by Desiree Day
“Not yet, I still need to work through some stuff on my own before I talk to anyone. And when I do, you’re going to be the first to know. I promise,” Stacie said.
“I’m here for you,” Tameeka said, then took a bite of her chicken. It had gotten a little cool. She picked up her plate, then stuck it in the microwave. “You want me to do yours?” she asked, reaching for Stacie’s plate.
“Please do.” Stacie laughed.
“What about Jackson?” Tameeka asked as she placed Stacie’s steaming plate in front of her. “Have you thought about moving in with him?”
Stacie shrugged. “He lives with his grandmother, whom I absolutely love. But I don’t want him taking care of me. I want to bring something to the table…other than my good looks,” she joked. “I know this might be too soon, but I think I might be falling in love with him,” she admitted.
“Miss Stacie falling in love, is it a full moon?” Tameeka laughed, and to her amusement Stacie blushed. “Oh girl, you got it bad.”
“I know.” Stacie grinned. “I really like Jackson. He sexes me—I mean makes crazy love to me like no man has before. Meek, he listens to me, he really listens, and he cares about what makes me happy. I see a future with him, something that I really didn’t see with the other guys I dated.”
“So how does he stack up against your list?” Tameeka asked; she just couldn’t resist.
“Oh hush.” Stacie laughed, sticking her tongue out. “You were right…I was wrong,” Stacie said. “I am really, really, really really gonna miss you. You were da bomb roommate—friend,” she gushed, then smiled crookedly at Tameeka.
Tameeka broke out in a laugh. “I’ma miss you too. But—this will be the last on the subject. There’s always a job at the store if you want it. I’m done with that subject.” She sealed her lips, then pretended to zip them shut.
The room was silent as they enjoyed their food.
“So when are you leaving?” Tameeka asked, and Stacie grinned sheepishly. “Stacie?”
Stacie ducked her head, then said, “The end of the month.”
“Oh no, that’s too soon!” Tameeka protested.
“I know. I decided sooner is better than later. And don’t you go and tell me that you need a month’s notice because you can’t afford the rent without me…that’s bull. You can probably afford to buy the whole building,” Stacie said. “I don’t know why you don’t buy a house. That’d give you and Tyrell more rooms to sex in,” Stacie said, winking, then frowning when Tameeka teared up. “I was only playing.”
“It’s not that,” Tameeka said. “I did something bad.”
Stacie’s eyes widened. “How bad?” she asked cautiously.
“Really, really bad. I did something that’d even shock you.”
“Oh shit! Meek, tell me,” Stacie begged, scared for her friend.
Tameeka breathed deeply, then spat it out. “I slept with Mo,” she tearfully admitted.
“What? Your ex-fuck buddy? When? Why?”
“It happened a couple of weeks ago at the store. Neither one of us—well, I can honestly say that I didn’t plan on it happening. I was mad at Tyrell.”
Stacie rounded the table to her friend and wrapped her arms around her and gave her a tight hug. “That’s not a good way to show it.”
“I know…I’ll die if Tyrell finds out. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Stacie pulled her chair next to Tameeka before sitting down. “If that’s the case, why did you do it? Why risk messing up something so good?” Stacie asked, perplexed. “Enlighten me, girl.”
“I think I like him,” Tameeka whispered, bowing her head.
“Of course you like Tyrell, silly, that’s why you’re scared. But why did you play the booty game with Mo?”
Tameeka slowly lifted her head and looked at Stacie with anguished-filled eyes. “It’s Mo, Stace. I think I like Mo. I think I want to be with him instead of Tyrell. What am I gonna do?” she wailed.
31
Single Father’s Guide to Dating Tip #33
Family and friends are like tight ends, use them to run interference when necessary.
It was Saturday morning and Jackson was mowing his lawn. He had already finished the front and now he was tackling the back. Thanks to Jackson, he and his grandmother had the best-looking yard on the block. A rainbow of roses, chrysanthemums, and geraniums colored the front. A vegetable garden filled with tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuce and green peppers graced the back. The yard was Ettie Mae’s pride and joy.
It was only nine o’clock in the morning, but it was already eighty degrees and sweat poured off Jackson’s shirtless body. The soft whooshing of the lawn mower blades provided him with the perfect backdrop for working out his problems.
Michelle was coming today and he hadn’t even told Jameel yet. Why do I have to fuck up his life? Why can’t he…why can’t we keep things the way they are? Jackson balled his hand into a fist, he wanted—no needed—something to punch. Instead he dragged the mower to the tool shed and set it between a sickle and hoe.
He went into the house and took a quick shower, then went into the kitchen where Ettie Mae was at the table husking corn. Wisps of corn silk swirled around her feet like a mess of garden snakes.
“You’re not cooking for her, are you?” he asked, stubbornly jutting his chin out. In addition to the corn, there was chicken frying on the stove, a pot of greens simmering and he could smell candied yams in the oven.
Ettie Mae bit back a smile; he only did the thing with his chin when he was worried and didn’t want her to know. But she knew, she always knew. “Naw, baby, since when did you know me to cook for a fool? This is for my men. Gotta keep you strong. Never know when the devil’s gonna come at you.” They were both silent and Ettie Mae focused on cleaning the corn.
“Have you spoken with him yet?” Ettie Mae asked gently.
Jackson shook his head and meandered over to the refrigerator, more to get out of Ettie Mae’s line of vision than anything else, as he didn’t have an appetite.
“Don’t you think you should? After all, she is that boy’s mother. Regardless of what you feel about her. He has a right to know,” she said, wisdom ringing in every word.
Jackson knew she was right, but still…“Grammy,” he started, reverting to his childhood name for her. “Something in my heart doesn’t sit right about her. It’s telling me to run and hide.”
“I know, baby,” she replied. “Something in my heart isn’t feeling right about her either. And I’ve been praying for God to tell me what to do…I think I wore a hole in the rug.” She chuckled softly, then set down a half-husked ear of corn. “She might not have always made the best decisions, but she’s here and we need to deal with it. And Jam deserves the right to know his mother,” she added.
“But she’s a crackhead and a prostitute! I don’t want that around Jameel. Besides she had her chance, but she abandoned him.”
“Yep, she did that. But who did she leave him with? You. The girl ain’t that dumb. Don’t you think Jameel deserves a chance to at least know who his mother is?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jackson replied, giving the expected response, but his heart was telling him to snatch up Jameel and head west. He slowly pushed himself out of the chair; his legs were like Jell-O as he walked to the back door and called his son. “Yo! Jam, I need to talk to you.”
“Okay, Daddy, I’ll be right there,” he called, but he didn’t make a move to come into the house. Jackson glanced down at his wristwatch. Twenty-five minutes to go.
“Jameel. Bring your butt in here now!” he demanded. Jameel immediately dropped his toy car and raced across the yard to his father. Jackson felt bad for using that tone; it wasn’t Jameel’s fault. As soon as Jameel came in, Jackson drew him into his arms and gave him a big hug. He sat him down at the kitchen table.
“We’re having a visitor today…she’s a friend of mine,” Jackson said, tripping over his words. “You know, friends like you and Leila,”
Jackson hurriedly explained. “And she’s going to spend a lot of time with you,” Jackson finished and smiled weakly.
Wide eyed, Jameel absorbed the information. When his eight-year-old brain sucked up as much as it could, he asked, “Can I go over her house like I go over Leila’s?” He liked visiting Leila’s house, her grandmother let him eat all the chocolate chip cookies he wanted.
“No, you’re never, ever going to her house!” Jackson roared, and Jameel shrank back in his chair.
Ettie Mae silently watched the scene as she husked the corn. Jackson was Jameel’s father and she honored that. She rarely intervened, unless it was necessary, and it wasn’t necessary…yet.
“You two are never to leave this house by yourselves, do you hear me?” Jackson demanded. Jameel’s bottom lip began quivering and Jackson felt like kicking himself. This wasn’t going the way he wanted it to. “I’m sorry,” Jackson soothed. He bent down and pulled his son in his arms. Good going, he thought. Scare your son right into her arms. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you, Jam,” he said, then tickled Jameel in his ribs until he howled with laughter.
The doorbell rang; Jackson froze. She’s early.
32
Warning! Your Past Is Like a File on Your Hard Drive—It Can Be Recovered
Tameeka glanced over at Tyrell, and her lips turned up into a wide smile; she wanted to giggle, but she didn’t dare embarrass him. They were in Taste of Heaven, sitting on one of the couches. The store had long since closed and they had the place to themselves. Tameeka had lit dozens of candles and a Luther Vandross CD played softly in the background. This is heavenly…total bliss…eat your heart out, skinny ladies, she crowed silently. She was stretched out on the couch with her feet in Tyrell’s lap. Her eyes returned to Tyrell’s profile, and this time she did giggle, she couldn’t help it. Tyrell glanced up and his eyes met hers and he winked playfully at her, then went back to his activity.
Tyrell swiped the bright orange nail polish over Tameeka’s toenail, then leaned back and admired his handiwork. His full lips turned up into a smile; he had to admit it, he was getting better. The first two toes looked like a two-year-old had done them, but the last three he’d just finished were the shit! If someone would’ve told him that one day he’d be spending a Sunday afternoon painting a lady’s toenails, he would’ve punched them out.
“Hey babe, you rocking this color. Whaddya think?” he asked, giving her a look that begged for her to like the job he’d done.
Tameeka glanced down and wriggled her toes. She had to agree with him, the color looked good with her skin tone. “You know, you’ll never live it down if any of your boys catch you doing this. Your new name will be Tyra,” she joked, then sighed. It had been another perfect day. Tyrell had cooked her breakfast and served it to her in bed. Then he came to work with her and they worked side-by-side together. He had given her a foot rub and now he was polishing her toenails. Best of all, not once did he leer at a skinny lady. I can definitely get used to this. My life is perfect. She playfully rubbed her foot against his crotch.
“Hey, behave yourself,” he scolded. His brows were furrowed as he concentrated on polishing her nails. “If you keep it up, you’re not gonna get your other foot done,” he said, and Tameeka chuckled nastily.
Tameeka’s cell phone rang, and she automatically reached out for it, but froze midair at Tyrell’s warning look. “It might be my grandmother.”
Tyrell shook his head. “Your grandmother rarely calls you.” In all the time they’d been dating, she had only called Tameeka twice. “And if she does call, it’s on your home phone. Ignore it, baby, let’s just enjoy our time together.”
“You’re right.” Tameeka grinned, then settled back on the couch. Suddenly the side door swung open. Startled, Tameeka and Tyrell looked up to see Mohammad strutting through the door. He was halfway across the store before he saw them on the couch; he skidded to a stop.
“Hey!” all three said at the same time.
Mohammad quickly took in the scene and apologized. “I didn’t know you were still here. I needed some lip balm. If that’s okay with you,” he said to Tameeka.
“Sure, take whatever you need,” Tameeka offered, and Mohammad snatched up his balm and hurried out of the store.
“I thought you took the key from him,” Tyrell asked, as he suspiciously eyed Tameeka.
“I did,” Tameeka stammered, burning under his gaze. “But I guess he had a second copy that I didn’t know about.”
“This needs to stop; dude’s treating your store like it’s his personal Wal-Mart,” Tyrell fumed as he pushed himself up. “He needs to give up that key.”
“Wait!” A startled Tameeka pushed Tyrell back against the couch. “No! Don’t do that. I’ll get it from him tomorrow.”
“Why are you so scared?” Tyrell asked. “Afraid I’ll kick his ass?”
Tameeka gave a nervous laugh. “You know how much I hate violence. I can’t even watch boxing. Let it go. I’ll get it tomorrow. Okay?”
“He acts too damn comfortable in the store. I don’t like it,” Tyrell grumbled.
Tameeka sighed. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow. I promise,” she said, then leaned over and tenderly kissed him. “Are you gonna finish my nails?” she asked, wiggling her toes at him.
“You’d better handle your business tomorrow. If not, I’ll do it for you. Now give me your foot.” He grabbed her foot and began polishing her toenails.
“Mmm, baby, what will this do to me?” she whispered seductively, and leaned over and ran her hand over his crotch. He was focusing so hard on her nails that he didn’t realize where her hand was and what it was doing. It wasn’t until she slipped her hand past his elastic waistband and into his boxer shorts that he took notice. “Ah, I think it’s up,” she said softly, and tenderly began stroking him.
“Come on now, I’m almost done,” Tyrell complained.
“You don’t want me?” Tameeka asked, and poked her lips out in a pout.
“Girl, puh-leeze, I don’t know how you can fix your mouth to say something like that. I want you morning, noon and night. But I wanna fix your nails. Don’t you want to have pretty feet?” he asked. He was grateful for the distraction of painting her nails; otherwise he’d be cheesing at her all day. Never did he imagine that he’d find his soul mate, things like that happened only in the movies.
“I guess. But I’d rather have you,” Tameeka answered sullenly, then she got an idea. She pulled her hand off Tyrell and began unbuttoning her top.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Tyrell asked. His eyes were narrowed suspiciously as he watched Tameeka open her blouse, exposing the tops of her soft breasts. She shrugged the blouse off and tossed it on the back of the couch. He felt the stirrings of a serious hard-on.
“Oh, nothing,” Tameeka answered as if it was totally normal to be shirtless while her boyfriend painted her toenails. “I want to be comfortable. That’s all.”
“Oh, cool,” Tyrell muttered, but he kept sneaking peeks up at Tameeka’s chest. “So this isn’t some type of ploy to get me to have sex with you?”
Tameeka shook her head. “Not at all. This is.” She reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, unleashing her melon-size breasts, and Tyrell’s mouth dropped open. “So is it working?” she asked unnecessarily—her hand was on his crotch and it felt like she was touching a brick.
Tyrell set the polish down and crawled on top of Tameeka. He leaned in to kiss her, but pulled away and looked down into her eyes. She was staring at him with an expectant look. “You know, if we do this, you’re gonna mess up all my hard work,” he said as his eyes roamed lovingly over her face.
“Nu-uh, not if we do it like this,” Tameeka said, and gently nudged Tyrell off her, then took off the rest of her clothes and Tyrell did the same. Then Tameeka got into position. “See, if I do this, nothing will get mussed.”
Tyrell slipped on a condom, then gripped her hips. A soft groan escaped his lips as he entered her softness.
“Tyrell,” Tameeka panted as she arched her back and pressed her behind against him. “Oh baby, do it slow for me.”
“You want it slow?” Tyrell asked, and Tameeka nodded. “Well, we both want things,” he said. “I want you to tell Mohammad to stay the fuck out of your life.”
33
Why There Should Be a Law Against Baby Momma and Daddy Drama
Innocent bystanders get hurt
Children’s well-being gets lost in the anger
Anger causes some parents to do some stupid things
Hey, baby. How’re you doing?” Stacie said into the phone. She knew that today was Michelle’s visitation day.
“Okay,” Jackson grumbled.
“How’s Jam doing?” she prodded.
“He’s okay, excited about meeting a new friend.”
“So he doesn’t know he’s meeting his mother?”
Jackson let out a frustrated breath: Now she’s questioning my decision. “Nope. I’ll drop that bomb when he’s ready for it. I think it’ll be a little bit too much for him to handle now.”
“I agree,” Stacie said, surprising him. “What time do you want me over?” she asked.
“You don’t have to be here,” Jackson protested. “She’s doing a drop-by. She’ll probably be gone by the time you get here.”
“That’s okay…I just want to be with you and your family.”
“That’s cool,” Jackson said, trying to fight the smile that threatened to spread over his face. “Well, get here when you can.”
“I’ll see you in a bit then,” Stacie said before clicking off the phone. She sauntered into her bedroom and began thumbing through her closet. “Is it possible to fall in love so fast?” She pulled out an outfit and dressed. “I need to check on Nevia and the babies.” She scooped up the phone and dialed Nevia. She picked up on the first ring. “Hey, girl, whatcha doing?”