by Tiya Rayne
“Yay! Let’s go play, Uncle Jackson.” Naya squeals placing her small hand in Jackson’s and dragging him towards the living room. “I told you he was her boyfriend.” Naya loudly whispers to her sister as they walk back to the living room.
I didn’t follow right away. I took a second to inhale. My heart was racing. I was taking large leaps out of my comfort zone today. First Jackson spending the night, and not like the other times but actually sleeping over in my bed. Then me calling him my boyfriend, even though it was just for my nieces. My world was moving too fast, but I wasn’t necessarily panicking like I thought I would.
“Hurry up and get dressed, Aunt Duck. Uncle Jackson is going to take us to a lake.” Kylie demanded as she came around the corner with a huge smile on her face.
“Alright, alright. I’m moving.” I headed upstairs to get dressed for our day.
SEVENTEEN
By the time we took the girls home that night, Jackson and I were exhausted. When Jackson’s truck pulled back up to my house I couldn’t even muster the energy to climb out.
“I never thought two people that small could have that much energy.”
I laughed tiredly, barely putting in the energy to make the sound come out.
“They had extra energy for Uncle Jackson.”
Jackson chuckled. “I was waiting on you to correct them on that.”
I started to a few times, but Naya just took to it so easily. Even Kylie eventually started saying it. I figured it was no need to stop them. Even when Jackson and I eventually call it off, it’s not like they will meet anymore men in my life to call uncle so I should give them this one time.
I shrugged. “Didn’t feel the need.”
The truck was quiet after my statement.
I looked back at lady in the back seat and even she was exhausted. I had to hand it to the dog, she’d been hugged and kissed within an inch of her life today, but not once did she complain about it. She ran with the girls and did every trick that they asked her to do.
“Come on, I’ll walk you to the door.” Jackson said bringing me out of my thoughts.
He opened his door and stepped out before walking around to the passenger side to let me out.
“You’re not staying?” my questions caused Jackson and I to pause.
Where the hell did that come from? It just spilled from my lips without me thinking about it.
Jackson took my hand and helped me down.
“I’m going to be honest with you, Char. I want to stay another night with you. I promise I do, but I think I should go home.”
Was he kidding? We just had a long day, and I didn’t get my three more rounds like I wanted. Hell, even my butt wasn’t as sore as earlier.
“Jackson, aren’t we pass that stage in our relationship where you pretend to be a gentlemen.”
“No!”
“Come on, Jackson!”
He laughed at my whining.
“Relax, Char. A lot happened today. Things that I don’t think you’ve had time to register. Plus, what I said to you last night, about you being mine, was real. Before I come back to your bed, you have to be sure that’s what you are ready for.”
“And what is it I’m suppose to be ready for?”
Jackson watched me closely, those sexy eyes studying me.
“For us. For a real relationship. Which means no more of your bullshit rules. No more looking at this with an expiration date, and definitely no more men. I will be the only man that touches you. If you need something, anything, you call me. Also, no more pulling away when things get too deep.”
Damn! Jackson wanted a lot. I wasn’t sure I could give it to him. I was already feeling panicky and claustrophobic just hearing him talk about what he wanted from me.
Clearly he could see the panic on my face because Jackson sighed.
“Yeah, that’s exactly why I’m going home. Come on.”
He grabbed my hand and helped me down out of his truck. We walked side by side in complete silence to my front door. Jackson turned to me and placed a kiss on my cheek.
“Call me when you have an answer.”
He headed back to his truck. I watched him climb inside and shut the door before I walked into the house.
That night I slept fretfully. Twice I woke in a cold sweat, that feeling of being watched keeping me up all night.
***
The next day I showed up to family dinner tired and with a lot on my mind.
The thought of tying myself down to Jackson freaked me out. It didn’t matter that for the last month that’s exactly what I’d been doing. Other than that incident with Sean in my office, I hadn’t touched or thought about another man. In all honestly, I’d been in a relationship with Jackson all along. It was just the idea of making it official, and what all it entailed felt a lot like being tied down. And I couldn’t be tied down.
“So, Duck! How did your dinner turn out for your fella?” Papa asked drawing my attention out.
“I hope it was better than what you fed me and Pops.” I shoved Eli in the shoulder.
I wouldn’t dare admit that it was in fact not better at all.
“Wait! Duck cooked?”
“Don’t say it with that face, Devin. Yes, I cooked.”
Devin laughed.
“Well, it looked like he ate well when we saw him.”
I cut my eyes to Keisha and she winked at me.
“Hold on now,” Grams said and everyone turned to her. “Keisha got to meet him?”
“I did too, Grams, shirtless.” Keva just had to add.
“Well that settles it, if everybody else have met your boyfriend then it’s only right I get to meet him.”
“It’s not like I planned to introduce them, they just popped up at my house.”
The table went completely quiet as everyone stared back at me like I started speaking in Latin.
“What?”
“You didn’t deny him.”
“What are you talking about, Devin?”
“She means, I just called him your boyfriend and you didn’t correct me.” From the smile on my Grandmother’s face you would have thought I told her I was getting married tomorrow.
“Is he your boyfriend, Duck?” Even Papa was caught up in the moment.
Everyone was staring at me expectantly. Did I really want to do this? Did I really want to commit to Jackson? It was one thing telling my god daughters. Not even admitting it to Jackson would be as official as admitting it to my family. If I weighed the options, I guess being with him with that label, was a lot more alluring than not having him at all. And from my understanding, those are my options.
“I guess,” I started squirming in my seat. “If you were going to give him a label that would be the most accurate.”
My Grams squealed in excitement while Devin hugged me at the table. Even Keisha cheered for me. Eli patted me on the back. There were a few faces around the table that didn’t share in my excitement. Aunt Vivica was looking at me like she smelled something rotten. Quincy looked pissed and Chante was still looking like she lost her best friend. I assumed the intervention didn’t go well yesterday since Chante hadn’t spoken to anyone in the house yet.
Once the excitement died down, everyone started asking questions about Jackson. What does he do? How did we meet? Are we going to get married? I gave vague answers to most except that last one, that was a definite hell no. I drew the line at marriage.
When the conversation finally turned to something else I was relieved.
“The doctor said everything was going well, and I’ll find out next month if it’s a boy or another girl.” Devin announced rubbing her belly proudly.
I was just as excited an anxious to find out what my new god child would be.
“Well, it won’t be long before Duck will be bringing us some grandbabies too.”
I choked on my tea and the table laughed.
“Just what the world needs, more sell outs.” Quincy mumbled.
The table grew
quiet.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Can you repeat that?”
He watched me for a moment, looking like a jealous bitch. He leaned back in his seat placing a hand on the back of Chante’s chair.
“I just never took you for one of those people.”
“One of what people, Quincy?”
I knew what he was trying to say, I just wanted his punk ass to say it out loud.
He looked uncomfortable for a moment. He should. But he continued on. “A sell-out.”
Aunt Vivica hummed in agreement.
“With all the good hard working brothers out here you decide to settle down with a white man? I mean, most likely he’s going through a phase. It’s that slave master/ slave thing. He’s no different from his ancestors just wanting to sample our women. He’ll taint you and then toss you to the side like trash for one of his wholesome white women. And you fell for it.” He shrugged.
I watched him closely, deciding just how I wanted to tackle this. Should I mention how he’d been fucking his white paralegal for the last two years? Russel down in the mailroom of his law firm gave me that bit of info, and I didn’t even have to fuck him for it. Or maybe I should mention how riding the partners’ dicks at his law firm for a promotion made him just as much of a sell out? Then again, maybe I should just dismiss him all together because I didn’t have shit to prove to Quincy.
“Dating outside of your race doesn’t make you a sell-out, Quincy.” Devin argued.
Quincy shrugged and took a sip from his cup of tea with a smug grin.
“I beg to differ, baby sis.” He placed his cup down. “Duck has officially given up her blackness.”
I laughed and leaned back in my chair. “Tell me, Quincy, how does one lose their blackness? Because the last time I checked, I’m still as black as I was the day I was born.”
He kissed his teeth. “Your blackness has nothing to do with the color of your skin.” He argued.
This was something I wasn’t going to tolerate. I wasn’t blind to what was going on in the world. I knew that the moment I first agreed to coffee with Jackson that this type of conversation would come up. I couldn’t control how the world viewed us, but I could damn sure put a stop to it in my own family.
“My blackness isn’t something I get to remove or drop when I want to. It’s not a checklist of things I need to accomplish or prove in order to keep. I prove my blackness every day I walk my black ass out my house. I’m reminded of it every time I’m in a business meeting and the clients speak to my assistant instead of me like I’m not the President and CEO. It shows when I take my cars to get serviced and the mechanic ask me what my boyfriend does for a living. They watch with that smug smile on their face as if they just know he’s a drug dealer. My blackness is thrown in my face every time I walk into a boutique and someone second guesses me about if I really want to try on a fucking skirt, like I can’t read a price tag.
Having a black man on my arm does not define my blackness. Just like having a black woman on your arm doesn’t make you a good man. I prove my blackness every damn day of my life, so who I let lay beside me in my bed has nothing to do with who I am. It also does not stop me from giving back to my community. Every year I invest in black owned business, I donate to inner city schools, I help build playgrounds and fund libraries all right here in the community I grew up in. I donate to them just as much I donate to all the other large well known non-profits. And you know what, none of that’s going to change just because my man isn’t the same race as me.”
Again the table falls silent. I watched Quincy. He had nothing to say at this point. I could have called him out on few things. Maybe brought to life his affair, or the many times he have turned down people of color as clients. However, just as my actions didn’t prove my blackness, his didn’t either. Because regardless of who he’s with or how he acts, he was still a black man. So I didn’t expose him.
“I think Duck has proved her point.” Papa said. “And if anyone don’t think so, they don’t have to sit at my table.” Papa turned to me letting it be known the matter was dropped. “Whenever you are ready, I want you to bring your young man to dinner. I would like to meet him.”
I smiled and nodded at Papa. Other conversation started to pick up around the table. I still wasn’t ready to bring Jackson to meet my family, and I doubt if I ever would be.
**
That night, while I lied in bed alone, I thought about Jackson. I thought about the way he made me feel and how much I enjoyed his company. It was a no brainer that my phone was in my hand.
ME: Ok!
Those were the only two letters I sent him, but I figured he knew what I meant. It only took a few seconds before he replied.
JACKSON: Dinner at my house tomorrow. Bring a change of clothes.
And just like that, I was officially in a relationship.
EIGHTEEN
“I’m feeling lucky right now. It’s hard to get time with you lately.” Devin said as she took a sip of her strawberry lemonade.
We were sitting outside at Beverly’s, an upscale bistro that served incredible soup.
“What are you talking about, I see you every Sunday at Gram’s house.” I placed the paper menu back down on the table and gave my cousin my full attention. I’d been to this restaurant a hundred times, I already knew what I wanted.
“Yeah, but you’re always the first out the door now. Gram’s said you don’t even take leftovers home. You must be eating somewhere,”
Devin raised an eyebrow at me with that familiar smirk on her face. I ignored her apparent fish for information. It’s been six weeks since Devin and my cousins met Jackson that Saturday morning. Since the announcement of Jackson being my boyfriend, the entire family had been trying to get more information on him. Sunday dinners had become the ask Duck a million questions time. Gram’s had even started to make comments about little mixed great grands. And I didn’t know how many different ways I could say that Jackson would not be coming to Sunday dinner.
Even though Jackson was my boyfriend—I was still getting used to using that word—we were not quite there in our relationship. He did have a spare toothbrush and clothing at my house. I did give him a spare key for convenience, but only because I didn’t always feel like getting up to open the door when he was coming over. And yes, in my spare time I was either at his place or he was at mine, but it’s required because we fuck a lot. Although I would admit, some of that time was our regular routine of a home cooked meal on Sunday nights as we cuddled up on his couch and watched television.
I guess, if you looked at all that, you would think we were ready to take the next step. However, the thought of introducing him to my family made me nauseas.
I lifted up my mimosa and poured the orange juice concoction down my throat,
Devin giggled. “Someone is in love.” She sung the last word.
I placed the glass back down and wiped my mouth with my napkin before shaking my head.
“Not love, Devin. I like Jackson. I also like spending time with him, but it isn’t love. It’s great sex. Eventually, I’ll grow tired of it and I’ll move on.”
My words came out assuredly, but I wasn’t as convinced. The sex was phenomenal. I’ve never been fucked so good in all my life. Jackson had stamina, size, and ability. I was calling out to God, Buddha, and any other religious deities that there were. He put in work. Yet, even on the days where we were just lying around doing nothing, were fine with me. He made me laugh just as much as he made me cum. I wasn’t so sure that I would get enough of Jackson any time soon, and for some reason, that made me uncomfortable.
“Forget about me,” I said waving off the topic of my relationship, “I want to hear this big news you have?”
A wide smile broke out over Devin’s face as she leaned up in the chair. “So, I’ve been thinking about going back to school and getting my license.”
My mouth opened so wide you could drive a truck through it. I squealed with excitement and clapped
like a circus seal.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes! I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I’m ready to do it. I just wanted to make sure your offer still stands?”
“Are you kidding me, of course it does. What made you change your mind?”
Devin sighed. “You! And the girls.” She rubbed her rounded belly. “Naya’s been talking about how much she wants to be just like you, and I’m happy. I would love for her to be like you, but I guess I want to be someone my kids can admire too.”
“Devin, the girls love you. They are proud of you.”
“Duck, I do hair out of the house I’m renting. I barely have a high school diploma. I’m not smart or sophisticated like you. I’m nothing to be proud of.” She laughed nervously.
I didn’t like this self-doubt. Devin may not have had a wall of degrees or living in a mansion, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t worth looking up to.
“First off, whoever is telling you you aren’t smart, is a fucking asshole. Despite not having your license or a building, you still successfully run a business. It doesn’t matter if it’s out of your house. You keep your own books, and maintain you inventory, alongside raising two incredible daughters. You’re a fucking superhero. Plus, you’re kind, giving, hardworking, talented, and you’re honest. Never allow anyone to belittle who you are. Not even yourself.”
Devin’s light brown eyes glistened before she looked down at her hands twisted in her lap.
“Thank you!” she said as she looked across the table at me.
I gave her an encouraging smile and a brief squeeze of the hand on top of the table.
“So, when do you start?” I changed the subject.
Devin wiped under her eyes to clear the tears that threatened to fall and chuckled.
“I haven’t even enrolled. I wanted to ask you first, but I plan to enroll this week.”
“Good. When will you tell Miles?” I knew this would be the real test. Devin did nothing without that fuck boy’s approval.