Masai leaned back on his haunches, standing guard over the bag, and looked at her expectantly, his tongue lolling out, his tail wagging furiously.
Out of nowhere, the guy tackled him with a resounding “Oomph!” Dog and captor tumbled over one another in a rolling mass. The dog slobbered all over the guy’s face. He was laughing, panting, and spitting all at once, but his hold wasn’t tight enough and the dog escaped once more.
“Masai!”
The dog stopped at the edge of Crystal’s yard and barked a friendly challenge. Then he took off again.
The young man—or boy, because on closer inspection, Crystal realized he wasn’t much older than she was even though he was big and muscular—came up on his knees and bellowed a half-hearted curse. “I’m gonna kill that stupid dog when I catch him. Masai!”
Masai danced back and forth, clearly enjoying this exciting game. Crystal picked up her book bag and Masai darted at her. She threw the bag down again.
The teenager scooped it up. “Here you go, boy, here you go,” he cajoled, shaking the bag.
“Hey!” protested Crystal, making a grab at the kid.
Masai took advantage of their temporary inattention to snatch the bag in a flying leap and drag it across the road. Cars coming from each direction squealed brakes and blared horns. Masai disappeared between two houses across the street.
“Masai!” The teenager was off again, waving an apology at both drivers.
“My book bag!” Crystal screeched and raced after him. More horns honked as she surprised the drivers who had thought all was clear. She kept going, intent on getting her bag back.
The dog led them on a crazy chase, through bushes, back and forth across the residential road, through several yard sprinklers, and into a small park. Soaked to the skin, winded and laughing hysterically, Crystal and the boy spread on opposite sides of the dog. The delighted animal raced back and forth between them. Gradually, they were able to close in so the dog’s master could capture him and, with her help, snap on a leash he took out of his jeans pocket. The panting dog wriggled and licked both their faces with contagious exuberance. Key introduced himself and then they backtracked in search of her bag, which the dog had dropped along the way. Crystal gazed in dismay at the torn, muddy bundle and realized that her own clothing was in similar shape.
Key looked rueful. He was sweaty and dirty too, but she was certain that it looked a lot better on him than it did on her. She tugged her jersey pullover over her hips and tried to smooth her hair down.
“Hey, the least I can do is invite you to our place to clean up,” Key said.
“Oh, no, “she protested. “I’ll go home. I live right down the street.” She pointed out the house.
Surprise flickered across his face. “You do? Did you just move there?”
“About four months ago,” she said dryly.
“Really? What school you go to?”
She told him.
“Then you know my sister, Shonté Emerson. Why don’t you come over and hang out after you change?”
She stared, contrasting his dark massive charisma to Shonté’s dainty golden beauty. “You’re Shonté Emerson’s brother?”
He nodded with a good-natured grimace. “I know, I know. We’re both adopted. So you gonna come over or what?”
“Well, I—”
“Come on. We’ve got video games, and my mom will fix snacks. You can see that Masai isn’t always such a monster.”
“Okay,” she said, giddy with the sudden impulse.
She reconsidered about a hundred times in the next half hour, but finally walked the two blocks to their house and rang the doorbell.
Key let her in and introduced her to Shonté. Shonté recognized her from one of their shared classes and in minutes they were comparing class notes. The three of them played video games, watched TV and talked.
When Mrs. Emerson asked if she wanted to stay for dinner, Crystal was surprised at how quickly the time had gone and how at ease she was in this house. She phoned her mother, who sounded startled and delighted. Before she could ask any embarrassing questions, Crystal hung up and said it was okay to stay.
She felt odd at the dinner table. All of them gathered around family style, making her think of the Huxtable family on TV. At her house, she usually ate in her room in front of the television. Crystal loved her mother and knew her mother loved her—in her own way. But sometimes Crystal wondered if her mother was from another planet, which would explain why they had so much trouble communicating. Alicia Taylor complained regularly about Crystal’s introverted nature, calling her clingy.
Vonetta and Joe Emerson were completely the opposite. They seemed interested in everything about their children. The dinner table conversation was a laughing, chaotic, fascinating interplay. Afterwards, Key and Shonté walked her home in the dark and she said good night. Sad resignation was a rock in her stomach. She figured that would be the only time she’d ever spend with them.
To her surprise, Shonté did speak to her the next day at school. But she felt awkward and out of place with Shonté’s friends. Shonté didn’t press her to join them.
It was only the coincidence of both of them showing up in the bathroom at a certain moment in time later in the year that their paths had merged.
After that, nothing could keep Crystal away from her friends. They were her family now.
* * *
Crystal sighed. She was glad to be the one her friends relied on when they needed help. Right now Key needed her help. She still had to call Jalessa’s mother and then phone some of her contacts to get references to teen mother counselors. And Marcus was due here at any minute, too. Key had detailed a stern lecture for her to deliver to the boy about stepping up to his responsibilities and thinking about his future.
She sighed. Another long night.
She was beginning to feel as if she were trapped in a soap opera. Having a stranger in the house was unsettling enough, without her and Shonté still being on prickly terms. Shonté kept hinting about the mystery man in Crystal’s life, and tempers had flared when Crystal delivered Graham’s messages.
The next morning, Crystal took the day off from work. She drove Jalessa to school, then made phone calls to find a place where she could get counseling and shelter, too, if she needed it. After school, she picked Jalessa up and made the hour’s drive to Raleigh to a counseling center for unwed mothers where Mrs. Hines met them.
When Jalessa, her mother, and a counselor left Crystal in the waiting room, Crystal let her mind drift back to a long ago scenario that was uncomfortably similar but turned out much differently. I wish there’d been someone to help Shonté when she was fifteen and scared to death. If only….
Crystal shook her head, a physical response to her need to brush aside the memories. ‘If only’ didn’t pay the piper. All anyone could do was move forward.
The jangle of her cell phone was a welcome distraction.
“Hey, Shortcake. How’s it going?”
Her heart thudded and her mouth went dry. Fighting her sensitivity to this man’s voice, she managed to answer calmly.
“Hey, Emerson. Things are fine. How’s the player you went to check out?”
“He’s okay. But that’s not important at the moment. I wanted to see how things are going.”
“Pretty well. I got an appointment today at the counseling center I told you about. I’m here with Jalessa now. Her mother came, too. They’re in with the counselor right now.”
“Great. I really appreciate all your help, Crystal. I can always depend on you. I would have done it myself if I hadn’t had this scouting trip to South Carolina scheduled. I’ll be back tomorrow if there’s anything else I need to do.”
“No problem, Key.”
There was a long pause while she tried to think of something, anything, to say that didn’t have a connection with the other night.
“So,” he said at last. “I’ve been thinking about what happened the other night.”
“It was something all right, baby.” His voice thickened to an intimate rumble.
“Don’t call me that,” she ground out.
“What? ‘Baby’? I’ve always called you that.”
She shut her eyes, squeezing her thighs together. The heat and arousal there were unbearable. “No, you haven’t,” she said.
“Yeah. I have. It’s just that it feels different now because I’ve been inside you.”
“Key, don’t—”
“Don’t what, Crystal? Don’t remember? Don’t acknowledge something happened between us that rocked our worlds?”
Now her eyes flew open, but she didn’t see the hallway because her senses were engaged with the vision of Key’s rippling, sweaty stomach and the feel of his tightly-curled pubic hair on her cheek as she nuzzled against it—
“I don’t remember!” she lied in panicked self-defense.
Key sighed. “Geez, Crystal. I wish I could say that too. But I keep getting these little…flashes. And it’s tearing me up.”
“Key, please,” she begged, her voice low with torment. “This is why I don’t want to talk about it. How can we be friends if we’re always thinking about that one night?”
“One night,” he repeated, his voice dull now.
“That’s all,” she said, ignoring the regret churning in her core. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore, Key. Never.”
There was a long silence. Finally he replied in a near-normal tone, “If that’s what you want. So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night when I get back in town?”
“Well…we’ll talk. Oh, I’ve gotta go now, here they come.”
She clicked off the phone and stared at the empty hallway. She wasn’t ready to see Key as a friend so soon. While her head was clear that a sexual relationship spelled disaster, her body throbbed to possess him. Apparently her hormones weren’t as easily controlled as her head, she realized as her breathing leveled out.
CHAPTER 7
After the session with the counselor, Crystal brought Jalessa back to her place for another night. Knowing Shonté would be home soon, Crystal proceeded to her regular monthly beauty shop appointment.
She’d considered rescheduling it, but felt in need of some rejuvenation. Crystal had used Dena’s shop since moving to the city. The front of the full-service salon was set up with tables and chairs for manicure and pedicure services, and in the back, technicians gave facials, body massages, and hot wax treatments. Hair styling stations lined both walls of the shop before full mirrors while gospel music drifted in from the speakers tucked away in the walls. Professional women of all ages filled the shop, getting looks that ranged from mildly trendy to traditional.
The receptionist recognized Crystal as soon as she walked through the door. “Miss Taylor! I tried to call you earlier to let you know Dena had to leave early today. Would you like to make another appointment?”
With a lot of gel, Crystal had managed to get her hair subdued this morning, but it needed something more. Her disappointment must have showed. The manager, Tanya, spoke up from her station behind the reception desk.
“I’ve got an opening. Why don’t I take care of you?”
With effusive thanks, Crystal hurried into the styling chair, letting Tanya drape a black plastic cape around her neck and shoulders.
Tanya ran her hands through Crystal’s mane of hair with efficient thoroughness.
“I see these roots need a touch-up. You want your usual relaxer and styling?”
The reflection Crystal caught in the mirror struck her speechless for a moment. Round face, hair in a conservative side-parted flip, minimal make-up. And the clothes under the cape? Staid and business-like. She looked old!
Last night Marcus and Jalessa had asked her how much older she was than Shonté. When she tried to give Jalessa one of her nightshirts to wear to bed, the girl had been barely able to suppress a shudder. Earlier she had been gushing over Shonté’s clothes, her eyes glowing with admiration for the petite, stylish young woman. Crystal couldn’t blame her—who wasn’t overwhelmed by Shonté’s beauty and cheerful nature? But listening to the other two females talk fashion had made her feel like a dowdy matron.
Resentment bubbled up inside her. She was tired of being taken for granted. Why couldn’t she be the bad girl once in a while?
Excitement curled prickles of tension inside her. Crystal Taylor was going to be adventurous tonight.
“I think I’d like something a little different today,” she said to Tanya.
Tanya gave her a quizzical smile. “Really? How different?”
Crystal waved her hands to indicate her openness. “Make me into a new woman.” She spotted the customer in the next chair. “Why don’t you give me twists like that lady over there?”
Tanya’s nose wrinkled up in a little laugh. “Extensions?”
“Yes. Why not?” said Crystal, slapping the arms of the chair.
“Why don’t you go for the works then? Manicure, brow wax, and facial.”
Crystal took a deep breath. “Okay, I will.”
Starting today, she’d be a sexy sistah, shake up her life. After all, she’d let loose with her wild sexual side. What was the big deal about a little change of style?
Tanya talked while she laid out her supplies. “So what brought this on? You got a new man?”
“Maybe I’m looking for one,” Crystal kidded with a laugh.
“Well, whatever the reason, it’s good to try something fresh now and then. Keeps us from getting old, doesn’t it?”
“Right,” said Crystal.
First, she had a facial and wax. Once the twisting began, she had her manicure and pedicure. The twisting went on seemingly forever, a process of sheer boredom for the person in the chair. Eventually Crystal drifted off into a doze.
A gentle tap on the shoulder awakened her. “All done, Miss Taylor. Want to take a look?”
Stretching her aching arms and legs, Crystal turned to the mirror. Her eyes popped wide open. “Who is that?”
Tanya had touched her hair up with streaks of cinnamon, giving it a rich vibrant color. With her complexion, the effect was unearthly, making her look like some autumn wood nymph. Dozens of narrow twists fell to her shoulders from a center part, giving her face a heart shape.
She wasn’t sure if that woman in the mirror was pretty or not, but she was certainly striking.
“It’s wonderful!” she said, turning her head from side to side to see different angles. The slender ropes of hair swung against her shoulders in a sensual motion.
As she stood up, still looking in the mirror, her brows puckered in uncertainty. Beneath the earth nymph head, a navy sweater and skirt set hung dowdily. She visualized her wardrobe at home and couldn’t think of a single outfit that would do justice to the new hairdo. Everything she owned was monotone, dark and baggy. She had to get it all together so that maybe her head would look like it belonged to the rest of her body. She needed help.
Quickly she settled her bill and then phoned Shonté’s cell phone.
“Girlfriend, listen. I need you.”
“What for?” Shonté sounded a little suspicious. Their parting this morning had not been friendly.
“I got a new hairdo at the beauty shop. Now I don’t look like myself. Nothing I own goes with this new hair style, and I don’t know what to buy. Help me!”
“Oh my God! Do you mean to tell me you actually decided to lose the Condoleezza Rice look?”
Crystal chuckled, pressing a hand to her cheek. “I did. But the trouble is my hair matched my Condoleezza Rice wardrobe. I don’t know what to do now.”
“Meet me at the mall food court in fifteen minutes.” Shonté hung up.
With trepidation, Crystal proceeded to the meeting point. In less than two hours, the stores would close. Her anxiety eased somewhat when she saw Shonté strolling the outskirts of the food court, scanning t
he crowd. Shonté might not be a whiz at business skills, but she was a grand master of shopping. Crystal rushed over and grabbed Shonté’s arm.
Shonté turned to her and let out a whoop.
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed. “Girl, I love it.”
“Do you really? It’s not too too?”
“Are you kidding? You look slick.” Shonté snapped her fingers, a wide grin stretching her cheeks. Her black eyes sparkled.
“It doesn’t really feel like me.” Crystal fingered the twists on her shoulder.
“It doesn’t look like you either, girl. How do you feel?”
“I don’t know. Different.”
“And?”
“Saucy, kind of.”
“And?”
“Fabulous,” Crystal admitted at last, laughing. “But it doesn’t go with my clothes, Shonté, and I have no idea what to buy.”
“Come on, let’s go.”
They swept the stores in a whirlwind, Crystal trailing in Shonté’s wake. She wasn’t even sure what she was buying. Shonté snatched articles off the rack, held them up, pushed them back or handed them to her to hold. She sent her to the dressing room a couple of times, took one glance at her and passed judgment. Then while Crystal put back on her own clothes, Shonté would close out at the cash register with Crystal’s debit card.
The pile of bags they ended up carrying to the car gave her a feeling of mild panic. Crystal’s last paycheck had reflected her promotion. While her budget was down the drain right now, she rationalized that she could indulge herself this one time.
When the mall closed, they each drove their car to a 24-hour superstore, where they finished off with accessories and cosmetics. Exhaustion crept up on Crystal, along with a little guilt about abandoning Jalessa. But she was also having a good time with Shonté. She cherished the return of sisterly closeness. Even while she felt impelled to rein in Shonté’s wildness at times, the girl had a way of getting the adrenaline rush, making Crystal anticipate what life was throwing her way. They were what Crystal’s textbooks called a balanced dialectic match, one of those partnerships of perfect yin and yang. Crystal kept Shonté grounded while Shonté inspired Crystal to dance.
Who's That Lady? Page 8