by Zuri Day
“No, Willie Carter ensured that that wouldn’t happen from a very young age.”
“That’s your dad?”
“Or drill sergeant, or slave master, depending on the day.”
“He couldn’t have been that bad.”
“He was how he needed to be with all that testosterone in the house who not only taught us how we should treat women, but showed us in the way he treats our mom.”
“You were lucky to grow up in a two-parent family.”
“I know.”
“With such a happy home life, you probably want a family?”
“Some days I do, some days I don’t, depending on how my niece, nephew, and cousins behave. What about you?”
“I think so. I used to say no, just wanted to focus on my career. But seeing Crystal and Brent with their brood shows me the good side of having a family. So maybe one day.”
“There is something I want for sure,” he said once the waiter had brought out their plates and left.
“As soon as we handle this food, I want to go do what it takes to make a baby, how ’bout that?”
Jan took a second to enjoy her bite. “That sounds as good as this chicken tastes.”
“Oh, it’s going to be finger-lickin’ good.”
27
The next evening, Doug and Jan arrived early at the club. She went backstage to get dressed. He messed around on his cell phone. Periodically, he watched the door. A little before nine he saw Pat and a younger-looking version of her walk into the club. He stood to get their attention and waved them over.
“How are you, Pat?” He pulled out her chair, then turned to pull out the other woman’s chair.
“I’m good,” she replied. They sat. “Doug, this is my daughter, Lauren. Lauren, this is Doug Carter, the man I’d marry if I weren’t already wed and the one I’d make you marry if you were still single.”
They laughed. Lauren held out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Doug shook her hand. “Likewise.” He looked at Pat. “What are you ladies drinking?”
“Heck, this is the first time I’ve been in this club in over a decade. I’m going to celebrate by having a Long Island Iced Tea.”
“Mom, are you sure?”
“I said this is the first time I’ve been in a while, not my first time ever. Of course I’m sure.”
The waiter came over. Doug placed the order.
“What’s with the ginger ale?” Pat asked once the waitress left the table. “You don’t drink?”
Doug shook his head. “Me and alcohol don’t get along.”
“Is that code talk for you being a lightweight?”
“Pretty much.”
They continued sharing small talk. Their drinks arrived. Pat held hers up. “To Jan, and a great show.”
Lauren and Doug joined the toast. He took a sip of his ginger ale, frowned, and set it down.
“What? Too strong for you?” Pat teased.
“Not strong enough. Especially now.”
“Why, what’s the matter?”
“Trouble just walked in.”
Pat turned around to see Melissa and three other women headed their way.
“Well, hello!” Melissa stopped at the table and rested her hand on Doug’s shoulder. He shook it off. She laughed. “Why wasn’t I invited to join this office party?”
“Obviously because we didn’t want you here,” Pat replied, not missing a beat.
“Ooh, Pat, animosity doesn’t become you.”
“It sure doesn’t, but truth looks good.”
“What about you, Doug? Don’t want to share your girlfriend’s talent with her coworkers?”
“Looks like you got here without my help.”
“I live five minutes away; have been coming to this club for years. Can’t say that I ever saw you here, though, until now.”
“You’re right. I had no reason to come until I heard Jan sing here.”
“Uh-huh. I don’t know why she tries to act so innocent. I knew from the way she looked at you the first day that the two of you would hook up.”
“Why are you so interested in who Jan is and what she does or doesn’t do?”
“Please. I’m just making conversation. I could care less what she does with my leftovers.”
“Good. Then you and your friends can keep it moving. Have a good night.”
“If you wanted to have one, you’d join us. Bye, Pat.”
“Bye, Melissa.”
Doug laughed. Lauren shook her head. “She still acts like that? What is her problem?”
“Oh, that’s right. You’ve met Messy Mel.”
“Unfortunately.”
Doug looked at Pat. “Did you hear what she said to Jan the other day?”
“No, and I don’t want to. It’s Friday night, I’m at the club, and I don’t want to bring the workplace in here. Let me head to Long Island and get this party started.”
“You know what, Pat? That sounds like a plan.”
By the time Jan took the stage Melissa’s craziness had been forgotten. It seemed everyone was having a great time, Jan most of all. She laughed and joked with the crowd, comfortable in the place she’d regularly performed for almost a year. After starting the party with fast numbers by Janelle Monáe and P!nk, she turned up her sexy with Toni Braxton. For this number she sat on a stool, showed a little thigh, and popped her fingers as she sang to the beat. The audience did, too, and bobbed their heads. For the instrumental bridge, the band was locked in the pocket, every note perfect. Jan’s eyes were closed, she was feeling the groove and thinking about her man when the mood was interrupted by a loud, sustained guffaw, followed by an equally loud comment. “Shut up. She’s trying to be sexy!”
This sent all four ladies at the front table howling.
Jan’s eyes had popped open with the first sound of laughter. Now they zeroed in on the source, Melissa and her gang. Another day, another time, this type of rudeness would have made her miserable. Tonight, after today, it only made her mad.
As the security guard went over to quiet them, she stood. “That’s all right, Mr. G,” she said in the same relaxed style she’d been singing the song, her fingers still popping, her mouth still smiling. “I got this. That’s right, fellas, keep that groove. While I take something real ugly and handle it real smooth.”
An appreciative mumble arose in the crowd. Melissa and her friends continued to smirk. The security guard stayed close.
“So this woman right here.” Jan pointed at her. Melissa’s smirk eased into a smile as people shifted to see her. “We work together during the day. She thinks I need to change my style, and tried to show me the way.”
This brought a strong reaction, especially from the women in the crowd. “She told me I was fat!”
“No!”
“That I needed to lose weight.”
“Oh no, she didn’t!”
“Told me superstars are skinny. As y’all can see . . . that will never ever be my fate.”
The audience laughed.
“She said instead of this wig, I needed to get a weave.” She motioned for the band to stop, walked to the very tip of the stage, and looked directly at Melissa. “Whatever your opinion, I don’t give a damn. You be you and let me be Jan.”
She then turned, switched her ample booty back to the stool, and calmly sat down.
The crowd went crazy! Doug’s shrill whistle could be heard over all. Those close to the foursome were jeering and motioning them toward the door. Still playing, Thump began a hip-hop chant. “She. Don’t. Give a damn. You be you. She’ll be Jan.”
Melissa stood, her face indignant. But before she could get a word out, everybody in the club started chanting with Thump.
She. Don’t. Give a damn. You be you. She’ll be Jan!
Who knew that the “You’re Makin’ Me HIgh” music would provide the perfect rhythm for a public dis? Jan had made it work! Finally, the four had no choice but to get up and make their exit. Once gone, the crowd
cheered Jan for a good two minutes as she effortlessly slid back into the original words and finished the song.
“Melissa really said all that?” Pat asked, wiping tears created from laughing too hard.
“I wasn’t back there when this went down,” Doug answered, smiling like a proud papa. “But according to Joey, she said even more.”
“Wow!” Lauren’s eyes were shining. “That had to be planned, right?”
Doug shook his head. “If you knew Jan, you’d know the answer is definitely not.”
“So she made up those words now, just like that?”
“I guess so.” Doug was still smiling, eyes only for Jan. “She told me she would handle it.”
Pat looked at Jan admirably. “Well, handle it she did.”
28
“Girl, you are gangster!”
It was thirty minutes after the club had closed. Pat and Lauren had left right after the last set, but not before Pat asked if she could get “Just Jan” for her iPod. Doug and Jan were walking to the parking lot.
“That’s not a song.” She said this, but her smile showed she wasn’t displeased with the title.
“It should be! I still can’t believe you called out Melissa like that? You shut her down!”
“I don’t know. Just the way she was sitting there, all smug and rude and messing up my show. I just snapped.”
Doug wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into him. “I hope you never snap on me.” He kissed her temple.
“Then don’t make me angry.”
“My girl is a rapper!” He laughed loudly. “You didn’t tell me you had skills, girl!”
“I still can’t believe those words came out of me.”
“You didn’t even think about it, you were freestyling?”
“Is that what they call it?”
“Yes. You’ve got skills! See you’re so talented you can do stuff you don’t even know you can do.” They reached his SUV. Before opening the door, he gave her a hug.
She hugged him back and didn’t want to let go.
No need to worry. Doug moaned and pulled her closer, ran his hand down her back and over her butt.
Jan placed her hands beneath his jacket, began to rub his back, and abruptly stopped. “Doug.”
“Yes, baby?”’
“Am I feeling what I think I’m feeling?”
“You’re feeling how sexy I think you were on that stage tonight, and how turned on I am right now.” He nibbled her ear and made her shiver. “Can you think of anything we can do about it?”
“Yes.”
“What’s that?”
“Go to your house?”
“What if I can’t wait that long?”
She pulled back to look at him. “Then I can’t help you because nothing is going to happen in this parking lot!”
“Aw, woman, where is your sense of adventure?”
She reached between his legs and squeezed. “It’s right here.”
Doug broke the law and made it to his house in less than ten minutes. They got out of the car laughing, unsnapping, unbuttoning, and unzipping. While Doug unlocked his door, Jan pulled off her shoes. Just inside she shimmied out of her maxi dress and undid her bra. Doug slid off his shoes, ripped off his shirt, and kicked off his pants.
“Come here, girl, and give me some of that sugar. No, give me all of it.”
He dropped to his knees and pulled down her panties. She yelped as his strong tongue parted her love-slick lips, grabbed a hold of his shoulders to prevent falling down. He reached behind her and squeezed her cheeks, pushing his tongue deeper into her heat. He sucked her nub with relentless precision, took a finger and played on her anal key.
“Doug, wait. I can’t . . . I’m going to fall over.”
He sat back on his haunches. “Well, get on down here then and take care of business.”
Before Doug, Jan hadn’t thought she was too into oral. But she hit the floor and pounced on that curved cock like a rock singer pounced on a microphone. With everything she had.
“Damn, baby, hold up! You want this to be over before it gets started?”
“You told me to handle it.”
“Turn around,” he hoarsely commanded, lovingly rubbing her butt as she complied. “I’m about to handle you.”
The first orgasm came within five minutes. The second one when they moved from the floor to the couch. The last one when they entered the shower, and was so intense Jan probably woke the neighbors.
* * *
The next morning, Jan yawned, turned over, and jumped out of bed.
Doug opened an eye. “Babe! What’s wrong?”
“I overslept.”
“Jan, it’s Sunday.”
“I know. But Crystal and I are surprising the sisters and taking them to brunch.”
“What sisters?”
“Her and my mom are sisters.”
“Aw, that’s sweet. I wanted us to go to brunch, but Mom trumps that plan. There is an invitation I have for you, though, that you can’t turn down. Jan!”
“What? I’m getting in the shower!”
“I want your family to join mine for Thanksgiving.” The shower turned on. Doug rolled out of bed and soon his wow was brushing her pow and Jan knew the shower would take a bit longer than anticipated. “Did you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“So you’re coming?”
“I’ll have to ask Mom and Lionel. We usually go over to my aunt Brenda’s, Crystal’s mom.”
“Babe, I want you to meet my family.”
“I said I’d ask them.”
“I’m asking you.”
“Maybe we can do dinner at your house and dessert at my aunt’s.”
“No way.”
“Why not?”
“My brother Marvin, he’s a baker. When it comes to desserts, ain’t nobody better.” He ran a hand over her butt. “There might be something a little sweeter, though.”
29
For once Jan was glad for Lionel’s best friend, Bernard, being with them. Their arguing about which team would make the Super Bowl and why helped keep her mind off of how nervous she was to be meeting Doug’s family. The last true boyfriend she had was three years ago and because his family lived in the South, she’d only met one, his sister, when she came to California for her birthday. Questions crowded her mind and fought for dominance. Would his family accept her? Would his mother be judgmental and overprotective of her son? Was the outfit she’d chosen—burnt orange stretch pants, a brightly colored, baby-doll style sweater brushing her thigh, heeled brown suede ankle boots—too dressy? Not dressy enough? Even though he’d told her she shouldn’t bring anything, she’d fixed an appetizer.Would they like it?
They reached the Carter home in Inglewood.
“You can go on up, Jan,” Bernard said. “I’ve got Lionel.”
Jan looked at Lionel, who nodded his agreement. “Okay. Thanks, Bernard.”
She took a calming breath and walked up the sidewalk. The noise from inside smacked her upside the face. To her right was a doorbell. She pushed it and prayed it was loud enough for someone inside to here.
A young man opened the door. “Hey, there, cutie. You here for me?”
Before she could answer, two big paws snatched him away from the door. “Go sit down, fool, before I have to deck you!” Doug looked at a slightly amused, slightly terrified Jan. “Come on in, Jan. Don’t mind Barry. He’s the youngest, and was raised by wolves.”
“Mama!” Barry yelled. “Doug called you a dog!”
“Stop lying!”
“Yes, he did, Mama, I heard him!”
“Me too, Grandma!”
Jan watched a stout, apron-clad woman with short, curly hair come around the corner. The scene looked like the Red Sea parting as children and adults scampered out of her way. A formidable-looking woman wearing colorful stretch pants, a bright yellow top, and an apron touting Betty Boop came around the corner. She stopped when she saw Jan, looked her up and do
wn. “Are you the one causing this ruckus?” She wore a fierce scowl, but her eyes were dancing.
Jan was too nervous to notice. She looked at Doug and then back at Liz. “Me, ma’am?”
“Aren’t you the one I’m looking at or am I cross-eyed?”
Doug put an arm around Jan. “Mama . . .”
“You’re about to get put out of my house,” Liz said, advancing toward Doug with a pointed finger. “Calling your mama a bitch, and in front of company!”
Jan gasped.
“Mama!” Doug exclaimed, shock on his face.
“I’m a woman. If you called me a dog, then you called me a bitch.” She looked at Jan. “Is this the kind of man you want to raise your children?”
The doorbell rang. Jan saw it was Bernard, having gotten Lionel out of the car and into his wheelchair. As relieved as she was to have some family backup, she was just as tempted to run out the door.
“I’m just messing with you, baby,” Liz said. “Teasing . . . that’s what we Carters do. I’m Doug’s mama, Liz. You’re Jan, right?”
Jan’s relief almost made her swoon. “Yes, Jan Baker. It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too, honey.” Liz looked behind her. “Who’s that?”
“That’s my brother, Lionel, and his friend, Bernard.” Introductions were made all around. While Bernard and Lionel fell right into the football conversation taking place in the living room, Liz pulled Jan aside.
“What do you have there?”
“Just some appetizers. They’re called soul rolls filled with smoked turkey, cabbage, carrots and spices, and some dipping sauces.”
“Did you make them?”
“Yes, I was going to bake a cake, but I heard there’s a professional baker in the family.”
“Yes, I am, but I have a son named Marvin who thinks that’s his title.”
Jan laughed and relaxed a bit more. It was clear that Doug was Liz Carter’s son.
“Come on back while I take a look at these. Soul rolls, huh?”
“Yes, made just like spring rolls but with soul food ingredients.”
Liz reached the kitchen and set the container on the counter. She removed the lid and took a whiff. “Ooh, these smell good. So you can cook, huh? Never mind, one look at that Carter catcher and I know you can throw down.”