6. Ashari
“Why does this keep happening to me, God?” I ask while wiping my face from the wetness soaking my cheeks.
Because you’re hardheaded and you know it. Your car has been on its last leg, and you refuse to get something more trustworthy.
Unlike the tire incident not long ago, smoke is billowing from under the hood of my car as I stare helplessly. As if things can’t get any worse, the sky is becoming darker by the minute, alerting me of an impending storm. Thunder sounds, causing me to jump as I contemplate who to call to come to rescue me. Mom and Dad are out of town, so they’re out of the question, and calling Marquan isn’t possible unless I want to pay him back in pussy and ass claps. Despite the darker skies, I’m grateful it's not too late for someone with ill intentions to prey on me.
*doom*
The sound of a door closing has heat rising on my neck and my jitters invading my body.
All right, God, not too long ago, you called me victorious over the battles in my life. Please don’t let this be the time I question the truth in the words you spoke about me.
“Go get in my ride. My boy, Kyrie, is sending somebody to pick up your car,” a voice I shouldn’t be familiar with pierces my ear canal, causing me to turn and acknowledge the man it's attached to.
Damn. Did this nigga get hotter since the last time I saw him? Ooh, you’re a vengeful God. I told Papa Ren I would come. You didn’t have to send this nigga.
“Which part of my statements are you having trouble understanding?”
My neck snaps back as my mouth twists, and my hands gravitate to my waist at this nigga’s audacity.
“Excuse me.”
“Unless you enjoy dancing in the rain and shit, beat your feet,” he says aggressively as the sky opens up and a drop of water hits the top of my head.
Why are my damn nipples pebbling?
“Come on, man. This shit is about to get ugly.”
Huffing and rolling my eyes, I open my driver’s door, snatch my purse from the passenger seat, and do as I’m told while ignoring the purring of my pussy with each step I take.
“I don’t know who he thinks he is talking to like that,” I say after entering the passenger side of the vehicle as a masculine and oak scent permeates my nostrils deliciously.
Your ass, but forget that… Doesn’t this scent warm you like chili on a wintry evening?
Closing my eyes, I allow myself a few minutes to enjoy the scent of whatever cologne nerdy Hulk is wearing. Clenching my thighs, I fight the urge to rub against the seat to saturate my clothing, hoping it will last beyond my exit from this vehicle and his presence.
*doom*
“What the fuck are you doing in my seat?” I jump at hearing the door slam, knowing he’s caught me trying to acquaint myself with the fabric of his vehicle to capture the essence of his scent.
Slowly opening my eyes, I turn in his direction, and my heart stalls momentarily when I see the grin on his lips, completely transforming his countenance.
“Do you and my upholstery need another minute or two alone? I’m willing to take one for the team if you do.” He smirks.
Asshole.
“No,” I grumble.
“Kayshon Patton,” he says, extending his hand toward me as a panty-melting smile appears that has me clenching my thighs tighter.
“Rebecca,” I say, smirking as a deep and throaty chuckle bounces around the vehicle like it's being hit repeatedly by a snare drum.
“Quit bullshitting. Even in your past life, that name wouldn’t have suited you. What do you want me to call you?” His eyes flash with merriment before quickly transitioning to something that causes the air to evaporate, causing me to bite my bottom lip.
Damn, it's hot in here all of a sudden.
“While you assault your lip, can I tell you something?”
“Something about our interactions doesn’t feel foreign. I didn’t know why I came this way until I saw the smoke flowing from your car.”
*bzzz*
Ringing sounds through the speakers cause Kayshon to grimace when a name and number flash on his dashboard. “Excuse me for a second,” he says before hitting the button to answer the call. “What’s good?”
“Did you forget your ass is supposed to be here right now? I’m trying to give the twins a playmate,” a husky voice says.
“You ain’t right for trying to give Masani Irish twins,” Kayshon says.
“Don’t worry about my wife. Focus, nigga. Where are you?” The man’s voice deepens with aggression, causing me to shift in my seat, knowing I was the reason for Kayshon not being where he had been heading.
A flush creeps across my cheeks as my chin dips low. I contemplate telling Kayshon that I’ll call someone else to come and help me out of my current predicament.
*boom… boom*
Thunder rocks not only the foundation of the ground, but me as well. I jump from the loud sound as warmth fills me when I feel a lone digit caressing my index finger, reminding me that Kayshon has yet to release my hand. Lifting my gaze from the floor, I see Kayshon’s penetrating, dark orbs assessing me with care and concern that settles within my extremities, calming me instantly.
“Bro, you good? Where are you?” The voice coming through the speaker has me disconnecting the eye contact between Kayshon and me.
“Have Jawaan come over until I can get there, big bro. I’m tied up at the moment and can’t leave until I take care of this business,” Kayshon says.
This business… hold up. Is he talking about me?
No, he’s talking about the clueless woman in his passenger seat.
I bite my inner cheek to keep from responding to the comeback from my conscience since I’m not alone and don’t want this man to think I’m touched.
“Hell nah. Ms. Aretha is here visiting Mycah and Kiara. I’ll just ask her to hang tight until you show up. The last time our little brother kept the girls, Masani threatened to withhold my pussy for a week.”
“Bet. I don’t mean to rush you, Kyce, but I gotta go. Remind me to ask for the details of this story later, though,” Kayshon says, hitting the button to end the call.
“My best friend’s name is Mycah. That is so cool,” I say, smiling.
“That’s cute or whatever, but fuck your friend. What’s your name?” Kayshon asks in a deep, throaty octave that hits me directly in my nether region.
“A-Ashari,” I say weakly.
“Sexy name for an even sexier woman. I’m kidnapping your ass for a few hours once we get this car situated,” Kayshon declares.
Uh… what?
“Oh my God! These are the cutest babies I’ve seen in a while,” I say, gushing over the adorable twin girls sleeping peacefully in the pack and play next to the gray sectional where an older woman is sitting.
I’m unsure how I let Kayshon convince me to accompany him to his brother’s house to babysit his nieces. However, seeing the sweet babies has me feeling anything but inconvenienced. Not to mention the jumping of my ovaries from the instantaneous baby fever I’m experiencing.
“Speaking of cute, aren’t you darling,” the older woman says, shifting my attention from the babies to her warm smile.
“Ashari, this is Ms. Aretha, and she’s my brother’s and my surrogate mother. Ms. Aretha, this is my lady friend, Ashari.” Kayshon interjects before I have a chance to respond, causing my pulse to rise when I hear his introduction about who I am to him.
“Well, God, thank you. It looks like you’re doing it again,” Ms. Aretha says, tapping her chest as her eyes glisten with sudden unshed tears.
“Uh. It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Aretha,” I say, looking from her to Kayshon before returning my focus to her.
“Same here, baby. I’m gonna get out of here since Kayshon has some help.” Standing, Ms. Aretha heads toward me before pulling me into her robust chest while whispering in my ear. “You were built for the storm that comes with my Kayshon. Don’t let him run you off.”
God is trying to tell you something. God is trying to tell you something.
The popular song from The Color Purple echoes in my mind after Ms. Aretha releases me and embraces Kayshon in a hug that doesn’t last as long as the one she gave me.
“Keep an eye on the girls for me. I’m gonna walk Ms. Aretha out,” Kayshon says as I nod wordlessly before planting my butt in the seat Ms. Aretha has vacated.
My mind is on overdrive, trying to process Ms. Aretha’s words while attempting to reconcile my psyche to what this moment could mean. Hearing the front door open and close, I sing what’s piercing my heart.
“God, I feel You now preparing me for my next move. My faith is being tested, but I know You will. You will come through. Just like You did for Abraham. God, I need You to show me a sign,” I sing, momentarily forgetting about the little people resting near me.
“I won’t stop believinggg… Jehovah Jireh,” a deep, velvet-edged voice sings, causing me to stop singing while looking toward the entrance and seeing an unknown man leaning against the wall. “You can’t hold a tune, but that’s one of my newest jams that Mama Lo introduced me to.”
“Damn. How are you gonna insult me after joining in like I asked you to back me up?”
“I didn’t want my nieces to think Barney could defeat their Goliath. Do the three of us a favor and keep your solo contained to the shower. I’m Jawaan, by the way,” he says, lifting off the wall and walking toward me with his hand extended.
My lip curls as I take him in from head to toe and determine if I want to punch him while pondering if fighting Kayshon’s brother will have adverse effects between him and me.
What’s between you and Kayshon? Clearly, I missed something.
“It’s rude to leave a nigga hanging,” Jawaan says when I don’t connect our hands after he’s in front of me.
I thought the other brother said he wasn’t calling this dude.
“Nigga, what are you doing here? Kyce said you weren’t needed,” Kayshon says, reentering the room and preventing me from replying to Jawaan.
“Ain’t nothing coming out of there, little bit. How are you still hungry after drinking all that titty milk?” Kayshon asks softly as the baby in his arms squirms. Her head moves around his chest as if searching for something he’s incapable of providing her.
Ooh, he’s gonna make a great father for our babies.
“What the hell?” I say in an elevated tone that causes Kayshon’s gaze to shift to me.
“What’s wrong?”
Other than planning our fantom children… nothing.
Words fail me as I shake my head, and Kayshon’s eyes return to the baby, patting her lovingly on the back.
“There you go. I bet you feel better now, huh?” Kayshon asks cheerily when a burp pierces the otherwise quiet room.
After kicking Jawaan out twenty minutes ago, Kiara woke up feisty and demanding until Kayshon fed her a bottle that she inhaled like it had been a day since her last feeding.
“So, how many of these do you have hiding around Ribax?” I ask after Kayshon lays Kiara next to her sister, who hasn’t budged since our arrival.
“What about me gives you the impression that I not only am a deadbeat father but that I have a string of bastard children?” Kayshon asks, frowning deeply.
My stomach drops to the bottom of my shoes as a manifestation of dread fills me at the glower on Kayshon’s face.
“You’re very comfortable with her,” I say weakly from the lack of a better assessment or response to Kayshon’s quick rebuttal.
“My being a great uncle doesn’t lend way to you assuming that I’m a father. Hell, I could say your ample supply of titties indicate that you’ve provided nourishment for ten babies, but I didn’t. Don’t insult me, Ashari. While I don’t judge niggas who choose to forfeit their ability to be fathers, I also don’t subscribe to the narrative.” The chastisement in Kayshon’s voice has my bottom lip trembling as his gaze penetrates my soul.
The voices coming from the TV become static as silence stretches between Kayshon and me. I’m unsure how to correct my insult to Kayshon’s character and integrity, which causes me to stare blankly at what I’m unable to visually register on the screen.
“I’m sorry, Kayshon,” I say.
“Judge me based on what I show you versus who you think I am, and we’ll be straight. While my layers are complex, they’re anything but stereotypical.”
My brows hike, and my forehead wrinkles as I wait to see if Kayshon will say something to clarify his last statement.
“While we’re on the subject, do you want to have kids one day?” Kayshon asks.
Okay, I guess he’s not gonna add some substance to his last comment.
“I do,” I say, forging ahead while mentally shrugging off the last seconds of our exchange.
“Hm,” Kayshon says, nodding without uttering another word, leaving me hanging for the missing context he’s not providing me.
This just took a nasty left turn that I’m unsure how to navigate myself out of. I wonder if I have turned Kayshon off. Clearly, I need to spend more time asking God to soften my countenance before I find myself again settling for Marquan.
“I’m gonna have to love that hard shit outta your ass, Ashari. Helping you into your soft girl era is about to be my mission,” Kayshon says, grabbing my arm and pulling me closer to him.
I’m so glad that God still hears a sinner’s prayer.
My conscience starts singing the classic Deitrick Haddon song as the tension in the room dissipates the closer Kayshon and I get to each other. When Kayshon wraps his arm around my shoulder while lightly kissing my temple, the tightness in my shoulders evaporates as the atmosphere shifts.