Changing Stiles

by Elaine Allen

  “Damn,” he huffs, still stroking that long dick and me into compliance. “You gon’ come one more time for me, ma?”

  Quaking into a million pieces, I just chuckle. I'm not entirely sure that I can handle another one after that.

  Carter lifts me from the counter and settles us on one of the pub chairs. “What you say earlier about that cake… cake… cake?” he asks, palming both of my cheeks, jiggling them until I giggle. He bites my bottom lip and pulls me into a deep kiss.

  “Me and my big ole mouth,” I mumble into his as I proceed to put it on him. I ride his dick like champion jockey until he comes, his toes curls, and he forgets his muthafuckin’ name.

  Thirty-Four

  Thursday

  Alieas

  I’ve never learned proper text etiquette. Sue me. I'm an ‘80s baby, and we’re still navigating the how, the why, and the when.

  Tiff: It would have been fun to see the city. But we ain't get the memo or an invite with your shady ass self.

  Nesha: SMH… Carter probably waxing that ass all over her condo.

  Rolling, my eyes I type, Resting up for round five. The Brinkmans let Jermaine in and he left some shit there. Carter looked like he was about to trip and then dicked me down. Choking was involved.

  Tiff: Last time Tim choked me, I blacked out. You can keep that kinky, unconscious shit.

  Nesha: LMBO. Every time Gray touches me, I end up pregnant. I’m still fighting to get the last baby out of the bed. So y’all go ahead and get choked and waxed for me.

  Tiff: Tell that old nigga to learn how to pull out.

  Nesha: Whoa. Pump it, heffa. CTFU. But you need to get that Jermaine shit straight. ASAP. And I like Cart for you.

  I text quickly, catching Carter’s eyes. There’s the how, when, and the who. Yes, ma’am. Well, we out on the town. Double date with Lon and her boo. It’s rude to be texting you hoes, sooooo.

  Tiff: Nite then. Tell Cart, I said wassup!

  Nesha: Holla. I’m bout to hunt Gray down and do him in the basement while the kids sleep.

  Alright now.

  Putting the phone in my purse, Carter offers me a sip of his drink and asks, “Who was that?”

  Sticking my tongue out, I say, “Jermaine.”

  He raises his brows. “Yea, aight.”

  Lon laughs into her cup, sipping on her virgin pina colada, “You better stop playing with Carter, Lieas,” she warns.

  Carter's facial expression says the same thing. “Babe, I’m only playing. He been blocked before this. Lon, let’s go get a drink.”

  Lon looks over at boyfriend Jason. “You want something?”

  “Nawl.” He squeezes her hands as she gets up.

  The lingering look that passes between them is intimate. Years of observation tell me it’s something more. “Look at y’all, all lovey-dovey,” I tease as we walk over to the bar.

  The music is pumping, and I feel good, so the hips are swaying. “Us? Look at you. I told you. Didn’t I tell you second chances are possible?” She was beaming. Her smile could brighten the entire darkened club.

  Over the sound of Lorde’s voice, I narrow my eyes and I give her the once-over. “You’re extra happy and optimistic, even for you.”

  “Please. Your mean ass seems happy, given the circumstances.”

  Shaking my head, I glance back over at Carter. “That definitely made me happy. When I come home alone next week, I’ll wallow. But for now, he has made me extremely happy.” Nudging her shoulder, I add. “You're glowing, though.”

  I order Carter a Corona, and I get a sex on the beach. When she orders another virgin drink, everything falls into place. I caught her throwing up last week before I left. “Are you pregnant?”

  The smile widens and she nods. “Yes,” she nervously laughs. “Yes we are, and he asked me to marry him.”

  Squealing in delight, I lunge myself at her and gather her up into a bone-squeezing hug. “See? I told you he was gonna ask. When? And why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It just happened yesterday. And my period was due last week. When I told him about the baby, he already had the ring. He had been carrying it around for days. I didn’t want to tell you my exciting news because you were upset about your dad.”

  “Girl, where’s the damn ring?” I demand. It touches me that she'd consider my feelings. But I would’ve showed up with my ring on like, BOOM, diamonds just stepped in the room.

  “I didn’t wear it. I’ll send you a picture later. I'm really excited,” she says and starts to fan her eyes. “I didn't think this was what I wanted. Now I can't imagine my life without it.”

  My friend could win an academy award for best actress. She is a very emotional person. “Aylonah James, you are crying happy tears in the middle of the club.” The music was pumping.

  She sniffles back tears and fans some more. “Shut up. I’m just so happy. But I'm sad for you too.”

  I pull her tightly and let her know, “It’s okay to be both.”

  I was so engrossed in having Carter with me that I wasn’t even remotely concerned with the things I no longer have.

  My father… A family of my own…

  And just because she tried to suppress her joy to spare my feelings, I smile through my own momentary pain to keep that million dollar smile on her face.

  First comes love…

  Then comes marriage…

  Lon is coming with a baby carriage…

  Grabbing my drinks, we head back to our table.

  Hands grip my waist from behind. “Whoa dere,” a familiar voice whispers in my ear. Frozen in place, frown lines appear as I turn around to greet Jermaine in person.

  “What?”

  “Waddup witchu?” he asks. His eyebrows draw close together, and he takes a swig of from his bottle.

  Lon sizes him up and sucks her teeth. “This clown. Come on, Lieas,” she says.

  In the span of a few short seconds, Jermaine’s mouth twists into a sneer. “Whatever, Lon. Take your bougie-ass ova there withcho nigga while I talk to my girl.”

  Lon returns the facial gesture, displaying pure disdain for the man. And before I can even utter a word, she steps to him. “What, nucca? I'ma send her man over here to check you.”

  “Get your girl,” Jermaine warns as she walks in the direction of our table. I can see Carter stand up, eyes directly on us.

  “You need to chill,” I let him know.

  “Nawl, you need to chill. Who’s this nigga you in here wit’?” He nods over to my table. It’s obvious now that Jermaine had been watching us and had to see me grinding all over Carter. It must have taken all of his restraint not to come over to our table and not make a scene.

  It’s uncharacteristic of him to be patient. I guess he was waiting for the opportune moment to get me alone, which is completely cool. Jermaine wanted a face-to-face, so here we go. “We're over since that bitch called me all fly and crazy, saying she wasn’t your cousin and that y'all fucking. I already told you; I'm not doing this shit. So, you can go back wherever you was at and enjoy your night.”.

  I flag him and turn around, bumping right into Carter's chest.

  Ooooh shit.

  “Is there a problem, my man?” he demands of Jermaine.

  Jermaine quickly sizes Carter up and realizes things won't end in his favor. Carter has a good two inches and about twenty pounds of muscle on Jermaine, but his rambunctious personality makes up for the deficit in stature.

  “Nawl, not at all, my nig. Was rapping to my girl for a moment.”

  Fierce brown eyes dissect Jermaine. Carter takes the beer from my hand and laces our fingers together. “Must be a problem, cuz this woman right here. This me, homey,” Carter informs him. “So, she cool on whatever you tryna offer.”

  My heart is beating so fast and my adrenaline is pumping. I know Carter is pissed. His face and body testify that he wants to ball Jermaine up and bounce his ass out the club.

  “Is that so? She must not know it, then, my nigga,” Je
rmaine challenges and pokes his chest out so he can appear larger.

  Carter laughs, a deep-throated, cocky rumble. He raises our joined hands and kisses mine. “Oh, she knows it. Come on, babe.”

  He pulls me into his body, tucks me under his arm, and we start to walk away when Jermaine adds, “Bitch was just bouncing on my dick last week.”

  I gasp, and I'm appalled that he'd try to trash me even though I definitely was fucking him about three weeks ago. Carter, already enraged, spins around and punches him square in the face. Blood, red and thick, gushes from his nose as Carter grabs him up by the front of his shirt. “Watch your muthafuckin' mouth and go ahead about your business.”

  Disgusted, Carter pushes Jermaine and then shakes his hands out. Jermaine stumbles backward.

  Suddenly aware that a circle has formed around us, I frown. “Let’s go, babe.” In the dark, I can see the lights of cellphone cameras recording. I can’t afford to be on nobody's website participating in reckless behavior.

  Angrily, Carter pulls me from the dance floor, barreling through the crowd of people in our way, Lon and Jay included. I can barely keep up with his strides as he pulls me past the coat check toward an isolated corner.

  “Who the fuck was that dude?!” Carter explodes. His face is flushed red, those beautiful amber eyes dark and dangerous.

  Take a deep breath and be sure to think before you speak. “Carter, calm down,” I attempt to soothe. I put my hands on his chest and look into his eyes. In my heels, we're almost eye level. “That was Jermaine.”

  “THAT NUTASS NIGGA IN SKINNY JEANS?!”

  “Can we just go?” I beg.

  Lon and Jay came out right after us. “You cool, Lieas? Carter?” Jason questions, uncertain if he had to step in between Carter and me.

  “We’re good. Lon, can you grab my coat from the coat check? We're going to go.” Jermaine probably already calling his felony ass family so some shit can jump off.

  “I’m sorry. Nigga straight disrespectful. The last time I wanted to rip a nigga head off was when I saw you with dude at your crib.”

  Justin. Shit. Now is not the time to tell him that Justin and I are still friends even if it’s in the purest sense of the word.

  “We can wait for Lon to bring the coat out in the car. It might not be safe to stay here,” I say instead.

  Thirty-Five

  Friday

  Alieas

  We made it back to the Philly without any more run-ins with Jermaine. Carter was decidedly confused at my attraction to Jermaine or the reasons I was even dating him, to begin with. I was embarrassed because Carter's impression of Jermaine reflected negatively on me. And to be honest and fair besides being a cheater, Jermaine is essentially harmless. As much as he spoke of his drug dealing family members running shit, he himself did not have a criminal record. He has a regular nine-to-five. I refrained from explaining any if that because Carter was not interested in hearing any of it.

  I eased it over by saying, we all make bad choices.

  “Girl, y'all lucky. Baltimore and D.C straight dudes be reckless. God protects babies and fools,” Bri says after I give them the rundown on what happened on last night at the club.

  “So, now I'm a fool?”.

  “You damn sure ain't a baby,” Nesha adds with a chuckle then shrugs. “Aside from that, did Gray let you know that he was letting Ms. Shelia come over a grab some items?”

  I haven't seen or heard from Ms. Shelia since the first day at Gray's. She’d come by to offer her input with the funeral arrangements. The rational part of me wants to respect what she'd been to my father, but the crazy part of me is… well, crazy. She has no control over Deidra any more than I do.

  I narrow my eyes at my friends. “You think it would be petty to ask her not to bring her lil' sister to the funeral?”

  Bri frowns. “Yes, heffa, it’s rude. Carter obviously wants to be with you, is with you, so what's the big deal?” She uncovers a photo of my father and Tyree from a stack of pictures in a book. “Look at Ty,” she laughs, flashing up with it.

  “Awww. Yo, my dad and mom would dress him and Gray up in matching outfits. My mom said Gray used to hate that shit.”

  “Guuuurl. Females are the only ones who like that boppsie crap,” Bri jokes.

  “Please, we have matching patterns every Eid. Gray loves it,” Nesha adds.

  “Girl, he loves that ass so, if you say matching anything, he giving it to you.”

  Nesha blushes. The fact that Gray does her bidding just to please her and bring joy to her face is all I need to be inspired. My heart flutters with hope.

  It’s the same with Bri. And Tiff, Trina, and Case.

  I'll have to field all my aunts’ and uncles’ questions regarding my prospects for marriage, if my ovaries work, and if I plan on moving back to Philly any time in the future.

  “Y'all better be around to save me from the aunts and the uncles tomorrow. And Janelle's stank ass. If I have to see how happy she and the rich husband are, I’ll be sick.”

  Bri looks up from rifling through the box of pictures. “She's not that bad. I think she just gives you a hard time because she’s jealous, even more so now that you're kind of a big-time publisher with a distribution deal.”

  Enter the eye rolls from Nesha. “Please. Gray had to remind me that I was covered the last time we were in the same room. She so damn shady. I told you, Lieas, if she would've caught me a year before Ayesha's birth. Ooooh wooh, she would've got it.”

  Bri narrows her eyes at Nesha and considers what she said and laughs, recalling the moment in question. “Yeah, Nesh was ‘bout to be on that ass that day. She mentally took her overgarments off.”

  “These hands,” Nesha laughs, holding up her henna printed fists for display. “All over her ass. You hear me?” she finishes then balls up her fist and depicts the old time beat-beat to both eyes and the mouth.

  I start cracking up. “Maybe we can all throw shade her way,” I offer.

  “Why be shady? If just being you is enough to irritate the fuck out of her, just continue to do what you do best, boo,” Bri reasons.

  That doesn't sound half bad. I guess I can be the bigger person for the sake of the funeral. I can't make any promises, though. “If you insist. We all used to be rowdy as shit, though,” I remind them.

  “Used to be? Heffa, yooooou still outta pocket. But you have sooooo many people who love and try to keep you under control.”

  Rolling my neck, I say, “Whateva.”

  “Yo, bighead.” Tyree peeks inside the den. “Come here,” he commands.

  Both Nesha and Bri glance at me. “You the only one he call bighead. Take ya butt out there,” Bri instructs.

  It doesn't matter that I’m in my thirties, this negro will always be busting. “What?” I ask when I go out into the living room.

  Gray is lounging on the couch, his long legs stretched out. Tyree settles against the wall with an elbow resting on the mantle. Eyeing both of them cautiously, I shrug. “Wassup?”

  “Pops left these,” Gray starts to explain holding out three envelopes, “with instructions not to open until after the funeral.”

  “Okay. So, are we listening to the instructions or are we about to open them now?” I inquire with a speculative glance from Gray to Ty.

  Gray holds them out for both me and Ty to take. Ty grabs his and stuffs it in his back pocket. His eyes are dark and brooding. I can almost feel the wheels turning in his brain. Gray has always been much harder to read, but even his hazel eyes are unsure.

  “This is dramatic as hell. Even for Unc,” Ty chuckles, rubbing his hands over his dark head of waves. “He thought of everything. I'ma miss the shit of that man. We had our differences, but he taught me everything I know about being a man. Being responsible, having good credit…” Tyree lists, tracing under his eyelid as his eyes pool with tears that threaten to spill over.

  “Good credit, though?” I remark, taking mine, testing its weight in my hand.

  “
Personal and business credit? Yes. Fuck yea.”

  Gray clears his throat. “He made mistakes, but he was an alright dude. He bought out 2nd and Cambria for my twenty-fifth. And I had just got out of jail. That night was crazy.”

  “Remember he took all of us fishing? And he was gon' fuck Tommy up because he was straight wildin?” Ty asks with a reminiscent smile. “Shit. I could've been Tommy if wasn't for Unc.”

  “Sure could’ve, youngin’,” Gray agrees with Tyree. “He was a good dad to us. Strict as shit. I used to hate it. And Lieas was spoiled like a mutha. She never had to do nothing at the crib. Straight spoiled. Pop’s princess.”

  “Right?” Ty agrees.

  “Okay. That’s not how I recall it. After you moved out,” I point at Gray and then turn to Ty, “and you stopped coming around. He was always on my back.”

  “About keeping you focused, and you still got whatever you wanted. Even after you stopped speaking. Pops made sure your car note was paid and your account was right.”

  Guilt penetrates. “I let him. His prerogative. I really did love him. If I try to cut either of you from my life for any absurd reasons, please don’t let me.” Feeling sorry for myself, I slide down on the couch beside Gray. He feels sorry, too, and gathers me close.

  “He said to make sure she knows I love her. No matter what,” Gray reveals. “When he didn't know if he'd see you, he said, ‘Tell my Moo I love her.”

  I only shrug. “I don't know. I thought there would be more time. The last thing he asked of me was to stay for a while longer.” I hate hospitals and I was convinced that he'd be okay. “It was like I couldn't breathe. I had to get out of there.”