by Nicole Falls
“I…what?”
“Think about it. All those years you thought Daddy worshipped Ma, right? He became the proto type of how you thought a man should treat a woman. That hero worship translated into how you navigate through your relationships now. And time after time you’ve dated the same man…all just like Daddy. Charismatic pretty boys who were emotionally or, in some cases, physically unavailable to you most of the time.”
She did have a point…all of the men I’d dated in the past were cut from the same cloth.
“So, I have a type…there’s nothing wrong with that, right?”
“Nothing wrong per se, but it isn’t right either? Are we both chasing the ghost of daddy? Trying to find the best parts of him in these men we meet? Or constantly looking for the worst parts in him to emerge in them as an ‘I told you so’. I just…”
“Whoa. Where is this all coming from, Patty Whack? What’s going on?”
“We’re having a conversation. That’s all.”
“Nah, you’re never without an agenda. This is a purposeful conversation, so what’s shaking? Is this about Darren?”
“Damon and no this isn’t about him. There isn’t even anything going on between he and I…anymore.”
“So there was something?”
“There could have been something, but I fucked it up, Cel. I really stepped in it.”
“So fix it.”
“It’s unfixable. And honestly, it was stupid of me to even…just forget it. I done let this wine get to my head. Enough about me…you ready to tell me more about this dude that drove you and my baby all around the town yet or nah?”
“Oh my god, I don’t know what’s worse…this deflection or your exaggeration. I’ma let you off the hook for now though, but we’ll get back to you.”
“Mmmhmmm, so what’s to this dude, sis?”
“He’s a…he’s a really nice guy. And we’re having fun. It’s cool so far. Really cool,” I said, unable to hold back a grin.
“He done turned my baby sister out. Look at you!” She changed the timbre of her voice to a higher pitch imitating me. “He’s a nice guy. We’re cool.”
“Oh shut up. He is!”
“So if he’s so nice, why are you hiding him?”
“I’m not hiding him!”
“So invite him to the game next week. Give me a chance to check him out.”
“I don’t…”
“Aw come on, at least let me vet him before you get in too deep. We could have avoided that pompous asshole JP if you’d let me in on the vetting process early.”
“I make no promises, but we’ll see…”
“I told my sister about you today,” I said to Karim as we sat in his living room, relaxing on his sofa.
On my way leaving Pat’s he had called and asked me to stop by for dessert. I eagerly accepted the invitation, not thinking that he meant literal dessert. Despite repeated dropped hints and pretty heavy make out sessions that I was sure left him in need of a cold shower, we hadn’t moved onto the real deal physically. He’d brought home another of his mom’s famous icebox pies, so we ate a couple slices and now sat cuddled up watching a SVU marathon.
“Oh yeah?” Karim replied.
“Yeah…she wants to meet you. Asked me to invite you to PJ’s soccer game next Sunday.”
“Well what a coinkydink, I was going to extend an invitation to you for friends and family day at church in two Sundays. Mama and Granny hemmed me up today. Which, I told you that as soon as old nosy ass Mrs. Barker saw us out it would get back to my folks.”
Recently, we’d stepped out to pick up some takeout from a local barbeque joint and literally ran into Karim’s childhood neighbor on our way out. As usual our fingers were intertwined, which the older woman commented on. Karim stammered through an explanation that left me quite amused as he used every manner of word except girlfriend to define our relationship. I wasn’t pressed, honestly. We were just coolin’ and had no need for labels quite yet. I didn’t think we were quite at the place of meeting each other’s families yet either. I mean, okay, yeah Karim had met PJ already, but that was a circumstance that couldn’t be helped, honestly.
“Are we…um…at the meeting the family stage?” I asked, trying to play nonchalant.
Despite my cool tone, something alerted Karim to the fact that I was a little on edge because he muted the TV and turned his entire body toward me. He raised a hand to rest at the back of my neck, tangling his fingers in my curls as he stared. As his fingers gently massaged my scalp, I began speaking again.
“I mean…not that we’re not there, but like…are we though? It’s just been a few weeks and we’re taking it slow, right? You’re giving me time to adjust and not giving me any dick, so like I don’t even know how long you’ll truly be around once you actually do; so it’s crazy for us to even be thinking about bringing families into this and bonding and–”
“Celena,” Karim interrupted me, laughing.
I kept right on talking, “Let’s say I introduce you to Patty and PJ and he takes a liking to you because he’s in desperate need for a male influence in his life and then you finally give me the dick and it’s barely adequate and I have to find a way to let you down gently and explain to my nephew that his new friend won’t ever be around again because auntie needs somebody who’s compatible with her in every way and then he hates me for banishing you from our lives and–”
Karim interrupted my stream of crazy babbling by pulling me in closer and drawing me into a slow, lingering kiss. Instantly I melted into him, sliding closer until he pulled me into his lap, straddling him. Despite my frantic, insistent grinding into his ever-hardening dick, Karim continued to ply my mouth with slow, sweeping passes of his tongue against mine. When we finally parted to catch a breath, I groaned in frustration and lowered my head to his shoulder.
After a few minutes of silence, Karim finally spoke.
“You’re something else you know that, right?”
“Is that a good or bad thing?”
“Neither…just an observation. Not sure where I stand with it yet.”
“Damn.”
“What?”
“That doesn’t sound good. It sounds like you’re trying to decide if I’m worth the trouble of dealing with.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth. That wasn’t what I was getting at. You just…it’s never a dull moment with you, girl,” he said, biting his lip and shaking his head, “But to answer your question…from before the rant…we don’t have a choice but to be at the meeting the family stage. My mother’s invitation was less a request and more a demand. And you don’t just say no to Brenda Holt.”
“So we’re going to church?”
“We’re going to church.”
“You know I don’t really do church…”
“I understand and respect that, but…”
“You don’t say no to Brenda Holt.”
Which is how I ended up at Sweet Honey in the Rock by the Side of the Road Missionary Baptist Tabernacle Church of God in Christ. Okay…that wasn’t the real name of the church. It was actually named Rock of Ages Baptist Church. Since we decided to get meeting both families out of the way on the same day we were doing early service and brunch with Karim’s mama and grandma, then heading over to Indoor Sports to meet up with Pat and PJ.
I was so nervous the week leading up to us actually going to church. The last time I’d set foot in a sanctuary was under somber circumstances and I was in no rush to return to one any time soon. Besides, I felt a deeper connection with God slash The Universe slash Whatever Name People Chose to Call the Higher Being in Their Lives by simply speaking aloud when the spirit hit me. Patty called me a hippie when I tried expressing this after she started trying to get me to attend church with her and PJ. My sister wasn’t super religious, but began attending church once PJ came along because she wanted her kid to have a strong spiritual foundation. They attended a small Unitarian church on the outskirts of town whose service lasted b
arely forty-five minutes.
I worried Karim about every little detail regarding my appearance because I wanted to make a good impression. Every day I called him asking his mother’s opinion on natural hair, whether or not women could wear pants in her sanctuary, if I should go with a heel or flat shoe and after a while, I could tell he was getting annoyed, but he let me go full on Neurotic Nancy while assuaging my crazy fears of fire and brimstone greeting me as soon as I crossed the threshold of the church’s doors.
We barely made it to church on time this morning because I was freaking out about the length of my dress changing once I sat down. What appeared to be a modest, but flattering shift dress turned into “Peaches’ Night on the Town” ensemble as soon as made a motion to sit. I tried on several pairs of shoes, heels and flats, hoping that they would change where the dress fell when I was sitting, but it was no hope. The only way Karim got me out of the house finally was by providing his handkerchief as a modesty shawl for my unruly thighs.
We arrived at church about fifteen minutes before service started. As soon as we walked into the sanctuary the nosey little old lady we’d run into at Oink accosted us. Before she could pull us too deep into conversation, I heard a strong contralto behind me say, “Well this must be the famous Celena.”
I immediately stiffened, which Karim felt because he squeezed my hand reassuringly as we turned to greet his mother and grandmother. The Holt genes were strong as hell because I was suddenly surrounded by three generations of the same face. All three of them – Karim, his mother and grandmother – were the same shade of burnished brown, with striking cheekbones and deep set, warm brown eyes. His mother reached out and pulled me into a hug immediately. I was a bit startled, but quickly recovered to give her a squeeze back.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you, sweetheart! Reem talks about you so much, I feel like I already know you. I told this boy he should have been brought you on over for Sunday dinner,” she said, squeezing my upper arms.
“It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Holt.”
“Oh girl…you don’t have to be so formal…call me Brenda. And this here is my mama, Adelaide everybody calls her Addie though.”
“Nice to meet you, Miss Addie,” I said, stooping to give her a quick hug.
“Come on y’all, I see Niecy Barker tryna ease her way into my favorite pew. We gotta get over there and spread out before she tries sitting there and doing all that hoopin’ and hollerin’ after the first amen falls outta Pastor’s mouth,” Karim’s mother said before quickly walking off on us.
Karim extended one elbow to his grandmother, then one to me and escorted us to Miss Brenda’s favorite pew. Once we were settled, Karim leaned over and whispered in my ear, “See, you were worried about nothing.”
I just smiled and retrieved the bible that I had found at the very top of my closet from my bag as service began. As I settled myself with Karim’s handkerchief draped over my thighs and the bible resting atop that, Miss Brenda leaned over toward Karim and I.
“See Reem…it ain’t just what young folks do. She has a real bible. This boy comes in here every week with that cellphone, sayin there’s a bible app on there, but for all I know he could be playing cookie crunch while he’s saying he’s flipping to The Word.”
I bit my lip to stifle a giggle as Karim let out a heavy sigh.
“Aw come on, ma!”
“I’m just saying. Maybe today you ought to share her bible. That way I know you’re truly receiving and meditating on The Gospel.”
“Here we go…” Karim muttered, “Lady hasn’t ever met you for more than fifteen minutes and you’ve already replaced me as her favorite.”
I quickly winked at him, and then turned to give my full attention to the front of the church as service began. The pastor’s sermon was quick and very easy to follow. The ease with which I flipped through the bible to find scriptures was kinda shocking to me, as I hadn’t opened one of these in quite some time.
After church we headed to Cluck for brunch. The girls and I usually hit up the restaurant for brunch around this time on Sundays to avoid the churchy crowd that inundated the place after noon. We were able to be seated and get through our meal fairly quickly since the restaurant’s crowd hadn’t picked up steam. Over brunch and coffee, we laughed, got to know each other a little better and genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. Miss Brenda fussed over Miss Addie all during brunch, much to the older woman’s chagrin. Karim had to jump in a couple times and redirect the attention when tensions rose slightly after Miss Brenda tried ordering for Miss Addie. Miss Addie was having no parts of that and her feisty spirit emerged before we knew it. Karim, with his effervescent charm, quickly deescalated the situation, making all of us laugh at some corny joke he heard from one of the guys at the shop’s kid.
We parted ways with Miss Brenda and Miss Addie, with a promise from me to come by for dinner one of these days. My fear about them hating me was unfounded and partly rooted in not exactly impressing the mothers of previous suitors. I was always just left of what they considered to be the perfect girl for their imperfect ass sons. This experience was, just like many of my experiences with Karim, very refreshing.
As soon as we got into Karim’s truck to head over to Indoor Sports he suddenly began laughing.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“You. How did we get from ‘your mama is gonna think I’m a ho coz my thigh meats are out’ to y’all setting up a date have dinner soon?”
“Oh please, I wasn’t supposed to be nervous meeting your mama and grandmama? Boy bye.”
“I told you your fears were unfounded.”
“Okay…fine, you were right. Happy now?”
“Thrilled,” he replied smirking.
“You ready for Pat and PJ?”
“I don’t know. That PJ…”
I laughed, “Oh so who’s nervous now?”
“I’m not nervous…per se.”
“Admit it, a ten year old has you shook.”
I’d never admit that to her, but I was a lil shook. I knew that Patricia and PJ were the only real family she had living, so my impression on them meant a lot. Hell, it would probably be a very defining moment in our…situation. I hesitated on calling it a relationship just yet. We’d been spending all of our free time together, wrapped up in the newness of finding someone you gel with and wanting to be around them all the time. We were in the happy bubble, running the risk of the slightest hint of any potentially disruptive event bursting it and ruining the good. Not winning over her sister and nephew was definitely a threat to the safety of us remaining in the bubble.
We arrived at the sports complex about ten minutes before PJ’s soccer match was scheduled to begin. As soon as we walked in, he ran over to Celena from where he was doing drills. As they embraced and did a semi-complicated handshake in greeting, a woman I was certain had to be Patricia slowly approached. If I didn’t know they were four years apart, I would have sworn that they were twins. Both women were the same height, with the same sable toned skin. Celena wore her natural hair, large and curly where Patricia rolled with a closely cropped relaxed pixie cut that was reminiscent of Nia Long in nearly every film she was in at the beginning of this millennium.
When she got closer and caught the eye of Celena, she did that same fast blinking thing that Cadence did that first night we met. Celena blushed and muttered, “C’mon, Patty, please don’t.” Her sister just smirked and remained silent.
“PJ, you remember my friend Mr. Karim, right?”
“Tee…you can say boyfriend. I’m not a baby. I know things,” PJ quipped.
Caught off guard by his candor I bust up laughing. Celena looked scandalized.
“I said what I said, nephew…Karim is my friend.”
“Yeah, sure.” he said, running back over to where a man I assumed to be the coach was signaling him to return.
“Friend?” I asked.
“Don’t start.”
“Since my sister wants
to be rude and petty, hi Karim, I’m Pat. Nice to meet you,” Patricia said, extending a hand for a shake. As I shook her hand, she looked over at Celena, winking. “He’s got a good grip, sis. You would know all about that though, right?”
Celena looked absolutely mortified; whipping her head around to make sure no one overheard that comment. Before I could control it, another bark of laughter left my mouth. Celena just shook her head as we headed over to the seats to watch the game. Surprisingly, the game was pretty entertaining. I had to admit I didn’t have much faith in actually being into the game despite Celena’s bragging about her nephew’s athletic abilities. The kid was insane though, splitting through defenders that towered over him and dribbling the ball down the pitch so fluidly to eventually score a goal.
The game ended up being a blowout. PJ’s team, led by him and this other hella skilled kid, trounced their opponents scoring five goals to the other team’s zero. Once a month their post-game tradition was lunch and games at Main Event; so we headed out of the sports complex to make our way out there when this tall brother who looked straight out of a Tyler Perry movie stopped Celena’s sister.
“Ooooh shit,” Celena muttered under her breath.
“Hey Coach D,” PJ yelled, running up to the man, interrupting the conversation with his mother.
Pat took PJ’s approach and subsequent dragging of the man into a conversation about the All Star game from a few weeks ago as a way to escape whatever awkward situation was brewing there. I’d have to ask Celena about it later I thought, as I watched Pat stride through the front door of the sporting complex really quickly with Celena on her heels. I called out to PJ so he could end his conversation and we could continue on with our day. I gave the coach the brother man head nod as we walked out.
“Coach D is so cool. I wish he was my mom’s boyfriend like you’re Te-te Cel’s,” PJ said, wistfully, as we walked out to meet the ladies outside.