7. Kayshon
The following week…
“Hey, Kayshon. How are things going?” Letitia asks with a pleasant smile upturning her lips.
“This session is extremely timely because I have an appointment tomorrow, and I have some hesitation for the first time since scheduling it.” Rubbing my beard, I stare at Letitia as my mind swirls with multiple thoughts.
Not being like him is why you made the decision, so there’s really no need to hesitate. What happens if she’s the one, though? You heard her declaration regarding what she wants in the future. Yeah, but what if she turns out not to be worth the trouble? Then you will be walking around here like a ticking time bomb. W ? —
“I can see the various thoughts rattling around in your eyes. Why don’t you tell me what appointment you’re referring to? Then we can sort it and what’s hovering in your mind out,” Letitia says, cutting into my wayward downward spiral, causing me to exhale and let her know what’s up.
“I’m getting a vasectomy,” I say, staring intently at her to gauge her reaction as her pencil stills and hovers over the notebook I’ve come to expect during these exchanges.
“Uh… I didn’t see that coming. You’re in your early thirties, correct?”
“Thirty-two. Why does that matter, though?”
My body temperature picks up as my mouth waters, and the hairs on my arm tingle while a frown slips into place. Age has nothing to do with my decision, so I’m unsure why she’s asking or confirming it right now.
“Most doctors have practices where they won’t perform such a procedure at your age, especially when you haven’t had any children yet.” Letitia’s eyes are unreadable, causing me to wonder about the thoughts she hasn’t shared.
“This dude had no problem scheduling a consultation with me, so it doesn’t seem like he cares about either of those things.”
“Okay. Tell me why you’re taking this step, and we can circle back to that piece of the puzzle.”
“About a week before my parents died, I missed days of school because my ass was too raw to sit on it comfortably, and my arms had deep gashes on them,” I say, looking at the tattoos covering both arms as the memory of why I needed a permanent shield enters my mind, causing me to shiver.
“You got in trouble, and one of your parents whupped you,” Letitia says as more of a statement than a question, causing my neck to snap back like she struck me.
“Man, I got my ass beat with an extension cord because my punk ass father got mad about tripping over my shoes on the stairs. The shoes on the stairs weren’t new, but his ass fell down two steps which caused his unruly temper to flare. The extension cord was the closest thing to him, so he grabbed it on his way up the stairs. I had just gotten out of the shower, and the nigga didn’t care. He started swinging that cord until my blood hit the dingy, cream-colored walls in my room. I cried loud enough to be heard on Mars, yet no one came to see about me. I—” My words get stuck in my throat as I clench my mouth to choke the sob rising from the pit of my belly.
“Jesus!” Letitia says.
“He wasn’t in my room that day nor my parents the next day when Dad beat Mom’s ass for complaining about the marks he left on me. What’s crazy is the nigga’s temper could go from zero to a thousand in a nanosecond. Instead of leaving the house after beating Mom’s ass bloody, the nigga came back in my room and punched me until my damn chest felt like it was caving, all while forcing Mom to watch. Her fucking left eye was barely open, but he didn’t care. My room held the combined cries of Mom and me that night.”
I stop talking when fury within my body suffocates me as red dots dance in front of my eyes. The image of that night is all I can see, and my body feels like I’m a chestnut roasting over a burning fire. My teeth sink into my bottom lip, and not even the metallic taste entering my throat can force me to let go. My neck is hot, my hands ball into fists, and my legs rock back and forth. I’m lost in the memory as the sight of Mom’s face hits me with an intensity I can’t stop or prevent.
“Kayshon! Kayshon!” A hand touches me, causing my left hand to dart forward out of reflex. “Shit! Kayshon! It’s me.”
My eyes blink rapidly as the fog vanishes, and I see Letitia no longer sitting in the chair across from me. A pensive shimmer in the shadow of her eyes causes me to release the fists my hands are in before my head hangs dejectedly.
“My bad, Letitia. This shit is why I can’t afford to have any children. I can’t ever allow myself to lose it like that nigga Lance did. I can’t go out like that with something that came from me, man. I ain’t never been more afraid than I am at the thought of reproducing. Most men want children, and my ass has been avoiding it like it’s the Boogeyman, all because I lived the first nine years of my life with the living one.” My voice is low and raw as the tears I’m unable to contain fall freely down my face.
“Have you had enough today, Kayshon?” Letitia asks in a voice full of compassion and concern that warms my body, allowing the tightness within me to slowly ease up.
“Nah, you ain’t helped me with this situation, and I’ve got more to say.”
A small smile slips onto Letitia’s lips as she walks to the fridge I’ve never noticed beside her desk and grabs a bottle of water before returning to her seat, while extending the water toward me.
“This is cool, but I’m gonna have to bring you a bottle of Goose or Big Black Dick White Chocolate for my sessions,” I say, taking the water from her before a low chuckle leaves my mouth at seeing the wrinkles dancing on her forehead.
“I’m familiar with Grey Goose, but what is Big Black Dick White Chocolate?”
“Yeah, the shit had me looking crazy too. It’s a rum one of my employees brought me after vacationing in St. Thomas. The shit is smooth, and the white chocolate taste helps while it goes down easy. Several shots of it will make you feel nice.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
*ding, ding*
Frowning, I pull my phone from my pocket to see who’s texting me. A goofy smile falls into place when I see Ashari’s name on my screen. Getting her number after I dropped her off when she helped me babysit the twins had me ready to pop my collar.
Ashari P:
Hey. I hope you’re having a great day. Since you have yet to do so, I’m gonna take the lead…how about meeting me at Sipping Thangs Beverages for a drink date??
“This woman,” I say, shaking my head.
“Is she the reason you’re thinking about children?” Letitia asks, reminding me of where I am as I lock my phone and slip it back into my pocket.
“How can a nigga with the shit I’m carrying possibly plant my nut in her eggs? I’m too fucking damaged to allow her to carry my babies. She wants kids, which means plural, and I couldn’t say shit back because I know what I have with me.”
“Don’t you think you should discuss that with her to get her opinion?”
My head starts shaking before she can complete her question because inheriting Lance’s temper and causing Ashari pain that doesn’t reside in her pussy from my strokes would be unfair. From the first day I laid eyes on Ashari, I saw security, freedom, and stability with her. What would that life entail if Lance's corrupt DNA manifested within me?
“I saved this woman’s name in my phone with her first name and my last initial. Knowing that I want something with her that isn’t temporary, I confirmed my consultation before coming here when I got the reminder call. I can’t be the reason Ashari cries anything but happy tears. The shit with me is deeper than running full speed ahead into fatherhood.”
“Have you told anyone about this decision?”
“Nah. My brothers, while knowing my background, won’t understand. Hell, Kyce just got his happily ever after and is a new father. His ass is in the haze of baby vomit that makes niggas smile blissfully. Jawaan will find some way to make a joke because he’s unable to deal with reality. You and the medical staff at the clinic I’m going to will be the only people who know, and all of you are bound by some type of limitations that protects me.”
*ding, ding*
Another chime sounds from my phone as I retrieve it to see another message from Ashari that lightens the pressure in my chest as my smile returns.
Ashari P:
It’s extremely rude to read a message and not respond. If you’re unavailable, say that. If you’re not interested, then say that. You aren’t the solo in this race, nigga.
What’s crazy is that I can see and hear the snappy tone coming from Ashari, simply by reading her message.
“Do I take a chance exploring this woman knowing what I’m planning, or do I curve her knowing she could possibly be the reason my heart stops bleeding?” I ask, the message still open while searching Letitia’s eyes for my answers.
“Honestly, I’m intrigued by this woman because of the light shining bright in your eyes and the radiant smile her name brings to your lips. Explore her and see what happens. You never know,” Letitia says, shrugging.
Me:
Neither rude nor uninterested, just in a meeting. As far as the last thing…don’t fuck around and find out why I’ve never been a fan of track.
Ashari P:
Its okay to admit that you’re a sore loser. *laughing emoji*
“My bad, Letitia. One second and we can get back to it,” I say without the presence of my eyes as my fingers glide over the keyboard of my phone.
“No problem,” Letitia says.
Me:
Nah, repeatedly winning became exhausting and a waste of my time. Now, what day and time would you like to link up?
Ashari P:
How about the day after tomorrow at noon? It’ll serve as my lunch break.
Me:
Bet. See you then.
Ashari P:
Count on it. *winking emoji*
“All right. Where were we, Letitia?” I ask while locking my phone and putting it back where it was, ready to get through the rest of my session.
Two days later…
“What made you choose this spot for us?” I ask, looking around the beverage spot that gives me an intimate, cozier vibe than any Starbucks I’ve been to.
“First date can be a lot of pressure, and I wanted ours to be light and free-flowing,” Ashari says, sipping the peach mango tea she ordered with the quiche she claimed would tie her over until dinner.
My forehead wrinkles and a deep glower forms at hearing the bullshit coming from her lips because Ashari’s ass got me fucked up.
“This ain’t no fucking first date. What the hell are you talking about?” The aggression in my voice can’t be contained or expressed in a lighter tone, given Ashari’s outlandish statement.
“It is, because babysitting your sweet nieces, while enjoyable, doesn’t count.”
“Neither does this shit here. I’m not sure who you’ve been fucking around with in the past, but I’m a man who will never be comfortable with a woman clipping my wings. In this and our future, I will be the man leading who we are as a unit. Even in the simplicity of a beverage date, I will never have you emasculate the man I am.”
“I’m used to being the one to plan and initiate my dates,” Ashari says with a faraway look in her eyes that spikes my blood pressure at the lame-ass niggas she lets breathe her air while mishandling her space.
“Humph. Those days are over, which means this shit doesn’t count. I’ll let you know when to lock in the day for the first of many dates we’ll have. In the meantime, is anything off-limits?” I ask before I change my mind and do what men have done in this situation from the beginning of time. “You know what… never mind. Don’t answer that.”
“Why not?” Ashari asks, a puzzled expression covering her flawless features, causing me to momentarily take her in.
Ashari is beautiful, even with the ball sitting at the back of her head and sans makeup, with only a faint sheen of gloss on her lips. The urge to kiss her invades my body, making me grateful it's time to walk her to her vehicle. Ashari isn’t getting away from me until I know whether her lips are flavored or as pillowy soft as they appear.
“Before me, the lames in your path have allowed you too much confidence in shifting the dynamics of what pursuing a woman entails. Through trial and error, we’re gonna forge a new road that will lead us where trust won’t be the only thing you allow me to give you. Give me the reins, Ashari, and I can guarantee you’ll never regret letting go.”
“You’re talking big shit, Kayshon. Break this down in laymen’s terms so what’s understood will no longer need an explanation,” Ashari says with a hike of her right brow as if challenging me in a match she expects me to run from.
“You… my dear soul catcher, are off the single market, which means you need to prepare for our first date as a couple.”
“Mm. On that note, it's time for me to get back to work,” she says, smiling, causing her entire face to brighten as she pushes her chair back. Warmth spreads through my body as I follow suit.
“Yeah, I need to go check on my team to make sure shit is shaking like it’s supposed to,” I say, interlocking our hands as a zing of current surges through me from our connection.
Yeah, I’m definitely gonna marry Ashari’s ass.
“Your team? What do you do?” Ashari asks as we head toward the front entrance to leave the drink palace because this place is more than a coffee shop.
“I own a shoe company,” I say nonchalantly as Ashari stops suddenly with her eyes wide.
“Which one?”
“ K. Patt Kicks ,” I say, smirking as her mouth opens and closes several times before I tug her along while exiting the entrance of Sipping Thangs Beverages so we don’t block the women attempting to enter.