by Zuri Day
“Hard to believe that just a few short years ago she had a regular job. I can’t even imagine that now.”
“Neither could she. Doug teases her by saying that if she hadn’t quit he’d eventually have had to fire her.”
“So she used to work a regular job, just like me.”
“That’s what I mean when I said they’re just people. Mama says celebrities are just regular people who caught a break. That’s the only difference between someone singing on TV and a hundred people who do it ten times better from choir stands and living rooms.”
“Dreams really can come true.”
“They can and do, baby girl. You’ll see it happen when a brand-new food truck is parked in my driveway.”
“What are you going to do, steal it from in front of Nana’s house?”
“Whatever, girl.”
“Because there can only be one contest winner and that will be me.”
“We’ll see.”
“What about the model?”
“Model?”
“The one who owns the house in Venice.”
“Oh, Cynthia.” Marvin chuckled. “She’d appreciate hearing you say that, and she could for sure rock a runway. But she’s not a model. She works for nonprofits. In fact, she heads up Jan’s foundation.”
“So how did Cynthia and . . .”
“Byron.”
“How’d they meet?”
“That’s a funny story.” Marvin told her about it, and also about how the famous personal trainer’s wife was best friends with Jan, which is why they’d been invited over. “Hollywood and that whole world is smaller than you might think,” he ended. “Everyone either knows the other person or knows someone who does. What about you? In one day you met almost half of my family, and instead of introducing me to your relatives I had my ass pushed under a bed!”
“You know why I had to do that.”
“I’m just teasing. Had it been my house and Mama, trust, I would have done the same thing. Only difference is she would have found you. Three older brothers have shown her all the right places to look.”
“Oh my God, that would be so embarrassing. I can’t imagine getting caught like that.”
“It may not have turned out as bad as you think. Depending on your actions, Mama would have cussed you out and then asked you to stay for dinner. My family is crazy like that. So what about you? It’s your grandmother, Nana, and who else?”
A loud grumble rose up between them.
“Dang, girl! Was that your stomach?”
“Yes. I guess my appetite finally came back.”
“You want to go grab something and bring it back here?”
“No.” Naomi climbed off the bed and retrieved her clothes from the bathroom. “I need to go have a talk with Nana. Things haven’t been right since I lied about you being there.”
“She knows?”
“Unfortunately.”
“How?”
“A neighbor saw you leave the house and push your car down the street.”
“Why can’t folks mind their business? So how did you explain it?”
“I didn’t, at least not at first.” Naomi had pulled on her pants and top and now sat on the bed with her shoes in her hand, reliving the unfortunate incident yet again as she told Marvin. “The subject didn’t come up until the next evening. I was tired after working all day and just wanted to grab a bite to eat and go to bed. That’s why the question caught me off guard. She asked if I’d had company the day before, and I said no. Only then did she tell me about Miss Josephine who lives across the street having seen you leave the house and push your car down the street.”
“Damn! Nosy neighbors.”
“Especially Miss J. She eats and sleeps by that window. I should have known she’d see you.”
“Sounds like Mama’s neighbor. I bet she’s old, huh?”
“She’s lived on the block for like a hundred years. A bird don’t fly down the street without her knowing about it.”
Naomi placed her sandals on the floor and worked her feet into them. “So after that, I told Nana that you came by but you didn’t stay, and that you were only there to get something related to the contest.”
“Did she believe you?”
“Hell, no.”
Marvin laughed.
“That’s not funny!”
“Yes, it is. You can’t fool those grandmas, man. Like Mama says, they’ve walked around the block once and run around it twice.”
“Exactly, which is why I rarely lie to Nana, and having done so doesn’t feel good. So I’m going to go home, fix dinner if she hasn’t already, and tell her you came over and fucked me in her house.”
“Naomi!”
It was Naomi’s turn to laugh. “I’m just kidding. I won’t say it quite like that.”
“Dang, your grandmother knows I sneaked into her house. I’ll never be able to show my face there, now.”
“Yes, you will. Nana meets all my friends.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t say anything yet. Because after I win the contest you might not want to remain my friend.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“For real though, we’re going to have to keep this on the low while we’re competing. I don’t want anybody to be able to use our friendship as a way to get us disqualified.”
“Why, is there something in the rules saying contestants can’t date?”
“No, but still. It can be viewed as a conflict. I know it will be hard, but try not to fall in love with me until after I get the truck.”
“Please, you’re the one who’d better watch it. My ass has you hypnotized.”
“Ha! You got me. I can’t even lie about that.”
They continued talking while getting dressed, speculating about what challenges the judges would cook up next and figuring out how soon the two could hook up again. That they wanted it to happen sooner rather than later was one thing on which the two could definitely agree. Naomi played it a little coy, but Marvin made it clear that he wanted more of her juicy loving. Truth be told, he liked being around her, in and out of bed, and wondered how that would play out once the contest was over. Driving home, Marvin wondered why he didn’t tell Naomi his main reason for wanting to keep their dating a secret for now. Because of Abbey’s warning, maybe even her offer, too. At first he felt it was a little bit shady, but by the time he reached the house he was convinced not telling Naomi was no big deal. What a woman didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, right? Time would tell.
17
Naomi did a lot of thinking on her way home, too. Thought about how not even a month ago she was single with no prospects and replacing batteries in a worn-out dildo, and less than twenty-four hours ago had enjoyed some of the best sex with a live penis that she’d ever had. She replayed the whole day in her mind—from the stars at Venice Beach to the heavenly humping that happened on the hotel bed—and even with the nerves and feelings of discomfort during part of the day’s adventures, hanging out with Marvin had been pretty much amazing. So much so that the thought of a casual romp or two that ended when the contest did seemed totally impossible. She wanted more of Marvin. The sex. Camaraderie. Competition. Food. Everything. But was that even possible? Naomi thought back to what he’d said as they parted, about keeping their dating a secret until the contest was over, and thought . . . maybe. Wasn’t that what the word “until” meant? That they’d secretly date until after the contest and then take their dating public? Meaning that Marvin saw what they had continuing, too? If so, that was even more of a reason to sit down with Nana and set the record straight. When it came to men, Nana could spot game faster than Bolt could run the hundred, could read a man’s face and forecast your future together without the guy having to open his mouth. It had caused more than one argument in Naomi’s teenage years, basically because Nana disapproved of every boy Naomi dated. That Naomi wasn’t with any of those jokers proved that her grandmother’s assessments had been right.
Nao
mi reached the house and was relieved to not see Nana’s car in the drive. She felt like cooking and knew that a difficult talk was better digested paired with a good Southern meal. She parked her car in front of the house and reached for her phone.
“Hey, Nana, it’s me. Where are you?” Shutting off the Bluetooth, she placed the phone under her ear, grabbed her purse and got out. “What program is happening over there? The pastor’s anniversary?” She shifted the phone and dug for her keys. “I know you’re going to enjoy that. You love his preaching. Who?” Opening the door, Naomi tossed her purse on the couch, tapped the speaker button and continued into the kitchen. “Miss Josephine. When did she start going to church?”
Probably after getting all up in my business when what she really needed to do was mind her own!
“What do you mean start? Josie’s been a Christian longer than you’ve been alive. Been attending church ever since we’ve been neighbors, and that’s been for over forty years. If you ever came to church with me, you’d know.”
“Dang, Nana, it hasn’t been that long.”
“When was the last time?”
“I don’t know.” She did, but it would prove Nana’s point.
“Well, I do. It was Easter. And the time before that was Christmas. You’re one of those twice-a-year holiday Christians, visiting only on the day Jesus was born and on the day He died.”
Nana proved the point herself.
“What are you doing right now? Service is just about to start and I can save you a seat.”
“That’s why I called, actually. I’m cooking dinner, so I hope when you get back home you’re ready to eat.”
“Well, since you’ve turned down the offer to fellowship I guess it’s good that you’re being of service. In fact, I’ll invite Josie and my other friends to join us. Since you won’t come to church, we’ll bring the church to you!”
Naomi swallowed a groan, but between ending the call and checking the fridge she decided to change her attitude. Nana was right. Naomi should go to church more often. Maybe if she did, more of her prayers might get answered, like the one she’d sent up while signing up for the contest, and the other one she’d hurriedly uttered before making those hash browns. Maybe a prayer would be what helped her win it all, even snag a man as a bonus. Naomi stopped right then, a frozen roast in hand, and whispered an appeal.
“God, please help me win the contest, and if he’s as good a dude as he seems to be, please let things work out with me and Marvin. Okay, that’s it. Thank you. Amen.”
Naomi decided to attend church with Nana in the very near future and in the rare moment of piety to forgive the nosy Miss J, too. She then sent a text, and seconds later received a reply that made her already sunny mood brighten even more. Marvin would join them for dinner. Knowing he’d be there, she paid the details of her stellar cooking even more attention. She pulled out seasonings and a cutting board and within thirty minutes placed a beautifully marinated piece of meat into the oven, surrounded by chopped vegetables and set to a temperature that would allow the dish to cook low and slow. Then, continuing to feel unusually happy, like she could burst out laughing for no reason, Naomi decided to turn the evening into a true dinner party by formally setting the table and buying something slightly alcoholic, something Nana’s friends might drink. Maybe they’d convince Nana to have a sip. She knew her confession would go down better with the pork roast, but thought a little inebriation couldn’t hurt either. After double-checking the oven temp, Naomi hopped into her car and headed to the 99 Cents Store near her house, where with her discount and ten dollars, she could get everything she needed for the evening and still have change left over. Almost two hours later, as she viewed her impromptu celebratory handiwork, Naomi second-guessed her decision to have a party. But after a series of text exchanges ten minutes later, she changed her mind again. Nana had criticized her paltry church attendance, but it seemed that maybe God, in His mercy, hadn’t yet given up on her and might even be willing to help her out a bit.
Naomi had just pulled a pan of homemade cookies out of the oven when she heard the front door open.
Nana called out just as Miss Josephine exclaimed, “Lord have mercy, it smells good in here!”
A voice Naomi didn’t recognize echoed the sentiment and added, “Well, now, if this isn’t fancy.”
Naomi walked into the dining room just as her Nana called out again.
“Here I am, Nana.” She hugged her grandmother and turned to Miss J. “Hello, Miss Josephine.” And to the remaining two women, “Good evening.”
“What’s all this?” Nana asked.
“Since we’re having guests I decided to set a formal table.”
Naomi watched Nana take in the white tablecloth, yellow candles, glasses of lemon water, and sunflower placemats with matching napkins. She could almost hear her sharp granny’s wheels turning.
“Does this have something to do with that contest you’re in?”
“Maybe a little bit. Come on, ladies, have a seat. Help yourself to the pitcher of sangria. It has a little kick to it, but not too much. Nana, can I speak to you for a minute?”
Naomi grabbed her grandmother’s hand, led her past the kitchen and down the hall to the bathroom, where she pulled her inside and closed the door.
“Nana, I wasn’t totally honest with you the other day and feel really bad about it. My friend from the contest wasn’t over here to pick up a utensil. He came over to see me. His name is Marvin. I really like him, and invited him over for dinner.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I guess I wanted him to think that this was my house. I mean, I’d told him that you live here, but he forgot, and when I realized that, I didn’t correct him. So when you came home early I just . . . panicked . . . and didn’t tell you the truth. We didn’t . . .”
The rest of the sentence died as Nana’s eyes narrowed in disbelief or suspicion, Naomi wasn’t sure which.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m glad your conscience bothered you enough to tell me the truth. Not that I hadn’t figured it out within two seconds of stepping into your room.”
Naomi’s eyes widened in the same way Nana’s had narrowed. “You knew?”
“Kids always think they’re the smartest ones born, forgetting that those older than them were once kids, too. I knew that disheveled bed and cloud of perfume didn’t come from you being a dancing klutz. I thought whoever you had over was in the closet. So where was he?”
Naomi looked appropriately sheepish. “Under the bed.”
“That was my second thought, but I didn’t think a grown man could fit under there.”
“It wasn’t easy.”
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself.” Twinkling eyes softened the gruffness of Nana’s declaration.
“I am, that’s why I told you. Because Miss J saw his car.”
“I saw it, too. Heard the boards creak when he left.”
Naomi’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.
“Nadine! Where are you hiding? Do you need help?”
Both grandmother and granddaughter looked toward the door.
“Everything’s fine,” Nana said through the door. “That’s Josie, probably already tipsy. She always was a guzzler, never did learn how to sip. Let me go and attend to my guests.” Just before opening the bathroom door she turned to Naomi. “And just so you know, once upon a time I had a very similar conversation to this one with your mama. It happened about nine months before you were born.”
With a wink, Nana left the bathroom . . . and Naomi still speechless.
Within seconds she gathered herself enough to return to the kitchen and retrieve the salads, smiling as she listened to Nana’s friends comment on how the simple yet specific touches had added sophistication and charm to the room. She knew that not even the humble Nadine “Nana” Alberts Carson could ignore such glorified compliments. Placing the salad plates on a large plastic tray, Naomi reentered the dining room.
“This i
s a beet salad,” Naomi explained as she placed the appetizer in front of each guest. She took a seat and continued, becoming more comfortable as she talked. Cooking, discussing, and/or eating food were all in her comfort zones and what she enjoyed. “It’s made with beets, of course, goat cheese, almonds, and arugula, then tossed in a Dijon mustard and balsamic vinaigrette. I hope you’re hungry!”
“Didn’t you invite somebody?” Nana asked.
“Yes, but he knew you guys would get here first and asked that we start without him.”
Naomi took a few bites and then returned to the kitchen to check on the second course. While doing so, she listened to the critics’ voices as they ate her food.
“This is good, baby,” Nana called out.
“Thank you!”
“I like it, too.” Margaret said.
At sixty-five, Margaret was the youngest of the guests Nana had invited, and to Naomi sounded like the most adventurous. After returning the roast to the warm oven, she rejoined them at the table.
Sue Cartwright, a member of Nana’s Baptist congregation who’d just turned the big seven-0, sounded thoughtful as she spoke around a mouthful. “I’m only familiar with iceberg and romaine lettuce. This is different, but mixed with the dressing you made, I like it.”
“I like my greens cooked,” was Miss J’s truthful answer, as she set down her fork and wiped her mouth on a napkin. Naomi expected no less. Nor was she surprised at Miss J’s next question. “Who else is coming?” she asked, nodding at the empty chair next to Naomi, before looking at her directly.
Naomi swallowed a bite. “A friend.”
“Who, Kristy?”
The doorbell rang.
“No, not Tee, Miss J.” Naomi excused herself from the table. “I’ll be right back.”
Her heartbeat increased as she walked through the door and peeped through the hole, although she was already sure of who was on the other side.
She opened the door. “Hey, Marvin.” She stepped back so that he could enter, and then accepted his hug. “We just started on the appetizer. Come on in.”
The room that just seconds before had hummed with conversation and the clang of silverware on china was pin-drop quiet. Naomi dropped Marvin’s hand before entering, but was very aware of his presence behind her.