8. Ashari
“Why did you kiss me like that, knowing I had to go back to work?” I ask, frowning as my lips tingle in recognition of what took place between Kayshon and me at the end of what he refused to acknowledge as a date of any kind.
A low chuckle sounds through my receiver, hitting me directly in my lower region, causing me to bite my lip while clenching my thighs.
“Although I disagreed with the reason for our link-up, I couldn’t allow your pretty ass to get away without experiencing the softness of your lips. Trust me, you didn’t make it easy for me to continue with my day, either.”
“Tell me about how you came to own a shoe company. That is so cool. I have wanted to go check out the inventory but haven’t had a chance yet.”
“I saw most kids come to school in the latest shoe fashions, and unlike them, I was impressed with the styles, colors, and structure of how they were made. My mother could only afford to buy me secondhand clothing and shoes that had been well past their expiration date. My love of shoes grew when Mom bought me a pair of Nike’s that were somewhat high top, but what stood out most was the yellow in the swoop and tongue and the border. I saw myself creating something just as fly but with other colors that would stand out more than the bumble bee yellow of those shoes.”
“Wow. The only thing my young ass did in elementary school was dodge Tommy Cranes, who thought it was funny to pull my pigtails and push me off the jungle gym.”
“You said, Tommy Cranes?” Kayshon asks as I hear clicking in his background, which causes me to inquire about what he’s doing.
“Mhm. What are you doing?”
“Looking the nigga up so I can beat his ass,” Kayshon says as I laugh as a giddy feeling enters my body.
“How are you gonna beat his ass so many years later, Kayshon? Make it make sense,” I say, smiling.
“His ass will catch these hands for the old and new you who hasn’t forgotten what the nigga did. Oh shit! According to this memorial page that pops up on Facebook, it looks like karma already got him. Damn. Justice should have been in the nickels that beat this nigga’s ugly face because bro got skipped when God started creating handsome men like me.”
Giggling, I shake my head at Kayshon while adjusting myself in bed, enjoying the lighthearted banter of our conversation.
“You ain’t right.”
“Oh, trust me, I know. Don’t worry, though. I’ll only push you when I need to deepen the back shots you’ll happily take.”
My pussy purrs while moistening as I mentally war with liking and disliking Kayshon’s statement and wondering if he can back up his words. Silence penetrates the line, giving me too much time to think and feel the thumping in my lower region.
I wonder if Kayshon fucks with his glasses on or if he sheds them like Steve Urkel after exiting the transformation chamber.
“Aye, Shari. Let's play truth or dare,” Kayshon says after several minutes. My heart stalls momentarily when I hear him shorten my name.
Well, look who’s getting comfortable in their self-proclaimed position.
“Ooh, this sounds fun. Do you want to start?” A grin forms after asking the question because of the reminder of his need to lead.
“Nah, you can ask me something… I’ll take a dare though.”
“I dare you to read a page of a book in a romantic style,” I say, giggling.
“Man. Y’all women be thinking of the craziest shit. Hold tight.”
Kayshon’s background gets silent, with only the sounds of continuous clicking and low grumbling coming through the line as I cover my mouth to prevent the giggles in my mouth from coming forth. While reading is one of my favorite pastimes, I doubt that Kayshon even knows where to begin with finding something to read from a romance book, no less.
“Hm,” Kayshon says.
“Do you need some help?”
“It wouldn’t be considered a dare if you do. Hold tight, Shari.”
Smirking, I pick up my remote and start channel surfing while waiting for Kayshon to fulfill the request.
“I lay on the couch massaging my temples, but this headache didn’t call for Excedrin. It had Esme’s name written on it. Seeing her at the game yesterday did something to me. It made me realize I wanted her in my future. Fuck yeah, Dro,” Kayshon says.
“Huh?” My brows wrinkle as I replay Kayshon’s words, trying to figure out what he’s talking about.
“That was my passage. Do you want me to reread it? That nigga Dro was speaking the same sentiments about his woman that I had when I saw you.”
Oh, wait… Shit just got real.
“Um. What’s the name of the book and who wrote it?” I ask.
“ The Apprentice by Torryn Santana. It took me a minute because I forgot to highlight the passage when I read the book a month ago.”
Record scratch. I know you’re fucking lying, Kayshon.
“When you read it last month… You read books, Kayshon?” I ask with my finger stuck in position over the up arrow on my remote control.
“Kayshon Tariq Patton and the soon-to-be love of your life. Why are you making it sound like a nigga is illiterate or some shit? Ms. Aretha challenged me to read some of the sappy books she read after I taunted her about it. The shit backfired when I enjoyed the book and started asking her for other recommendations. I don’t have much time to read, but only she knows that I enjoy it until you. Is your life insurance paid up?”
My brain stalls from the constant overload of unexpected information coming from Kayshon. It took me several minutes for his last question to register, causing my face to change as my eyes pinched together, coinciding with the wrinkles on my forehead.
“Uh, why are you asking about my life insurance?”
“So your parents won’t have to start a GoFundMe if you tell anyone my secret.”
I don’t know whether to laugh or redress to go to RPD for a restraining order, because what the hell.
“Um—” Words fail me, causing my mouth to open and close several times before I give up on replying.
“Chill, Shari. A nigga is messing with you. I might have some of Lance’s features, but I will never walk in his bitch ass shoes. Now, truth or dare?”
What the fuck? Who is Lance?
“Hey, Ashari,” Papa Ren says cheerfully.
Lord, you stay sending your mouthpiece on your behalf, huh? I’m still trying to process the last twenty minutes of my call with Kayshon, and here comes Lorenzo Reese.
“Hello. Are you there, Ashari?”
“I’m here. How are you, Papa Ren,” I say without inflection or fanfare as I stare blankly at my TV screen.
“What’s wrong? Talk to me because I can hear something in your tone.”
Of course, you can.
“I met somebody,” I say, chewing on my lip unconsciously.
“I know. Let me tell you what I just heard.”
Now God, if you sent Papa Ren to have me snotting and crying tonight, I’m not interested in popping Tylenol when all is said and done.
“Pa—”
“Hush, Ashari Jade, and hear what thus sayeth the Lord.”
Closing my mouth after being cut off has me rolling my eyes while crossing my arms over my chest like an irate four-year-old.
“Isaiah forty-three verse two says: When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee. While God understands your hesitation in continuing this new journey. He also wants you to remember that after the fire comes purification. It’s uncomfortable right now because this man is unlike any before him, but even in the differences, God is staying to you… keep walking. You can’t forfeit the work before obtaining the blessing. He also told me to remind you that if He made every man the same, you would never appreciate His craftmanship.”
Blinking excessively, I try to ignore the water dropping from the corners of my orbs as my chest tightens.
“Also, think it not strange that this man has seemingly found you in several situations because my bible tells me that whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing and obtaineth favor of the Lord. You have been seeking and picking spotted frogs unfit to be consumed by a barred owl. Therefore, God had to show that His will concerning your life won’t cause you to gravitate to baseless and temporary position fillers. I know you, so I’m also going to tell you to show whoever the young man is some patience while he sorts out some things.”
“What things? I ain’t got t?—”
“Remember that you are victorious when this battle is over. Now, tell me the young man’s name so I can personalize my prayers concerning him,” Papa Ren says deadpan, brokering no further pushback.
“Kayshon.”
“Be softer with him. You’ll benefit from the action.”
The next day…
“While I appreciate you being here late for me in your condition, you have me nervous,” I say, sitting in the chair at my nail tech’s station while giving her an inquisitive side-eye.
“Girl, I’m bigger than I should be because I have used this pregnancy to get my husband to feed me… everything.”
“Dreama Strickland! I’m telling,” I shout as the beginning of a smile tips the corners of my mouth before laughter comes from both of us.
Dreama Strickland owns and operates Dreama Styles and has been doing my nails since she got her license shortly after. Seeing her pregnant and expecting her first baby brings a smile because I know the backstory that led to her meeting and marrying her husband. Knowing that their unorthodox union hasn’t resulted in divorce excites me because they continue to build a framework that works for them.
“Oh, he knows. Chile, Shaquille is so busy campaigning for another baby when this one hits six months that he’ll practically do anything I ask,” Dreama says with stars in her eyes.
“I love that for you, girl.”
“Ooh, Risha, when did you get this color?” a familiar female voice says, causing my nose to wrinkle, and a frown upturns my lips.
Turning to look across the way, I see the infamous cat lady whose wide-eyed gaze connects with mine as she rolls her eyes before returning her focus to her nail tech.
“Did I tell you about how Kayshon had me climbing the walls the other night, Risha?”
“No, you didn’t. Spill the tea, Honesty, girl. My man and I are on the outs, so I have to live vicariously through you for a minute.”
“Her momma had the audacity to name her something she’ll never live up to. Tuh,” I say, shifting my attention to Dreama, who’s smirking. “I’m surprised you still have Risha’s bird ass still working in here, boo.”
“Most days, she and I aren’t here together, so I’m able to ignore her foolishness. Although I have been thinking about giving her the boot due to the rachet clientele she’s started working with,” Dreama says.
“Girl… Kayshon’s dick be having me sounding like Ronnie and Trixi when he’s deep up in this monkey I got,” Honesty says loudly, causing me to roll my eyes at her need to elevate her voice so I can hear the conversation.
“I know you didn’t name those damn cats after the bitches from Players Club ,” Risha says, laughing while sounding like the hyena that taunts Scar in The Lion King .
“I sure did. You know I love that movie,” Honesty says, sounding like the birdbrain fool she is.
“Y’all are gonna have to either utilize your inside voices or leave. I ain’t trying to be tormented by this cringy story,” Dreama interjects before Risha or Honesty can say another word, causing me to smile and exhale simultaneously, grateful for the favor I hadn’t asked for.
“It's always funny to me how women will know they’ve lost their in with a man their pussy couldn’t keep interested in more than a nut,” I say as Dreama gets started on my nails after the shop chatter drops to a more professional tempo.
“Oh. Was that display of debauchery aimed at you?” Dreama asks.
“Mhm. The nigga who could only be bothered with cat woman is now trying to lock me down for something long-term. Clearly, little Ms. Dishonest got the memo and felt the need to perpetrate fraud. The sad thing is, we live in the same townhouse community with a grassy area and three doors separating us,” I inform Dreama.
“Ooh. This has the potential to get messy,” Dreama says.
“Not for me. I’m good. However, my hands don’t have a problem getting active in the event I need to cage a flighty bird.”
“What’s good, Shari? How was your day?” Kayshon’s voice is lower and deeper than usual, causing my lips to part slightly as a puff of air slips out.
Damn, Kayshon.
A flush fills my face as I start fanning from the sudden rise in temperature in my bedroom.
“It was all right until an hour or so ago,” I say, trying to regulate my breathing while attempting to contain the uptick in my body’s reaction to simple questions from him.
“What happened?” The question comes out demanding and authoritative as I run my tongue along my lips to moisten them.
“Nothing other than the fact that you need to do a better job keeping your strays in the house lest they find themselves being euthanized.”
“Dumb this shit down, Shari. I don’t speak woman,” Kayshon says with a low chuckle.
“Honesty. I?—”
“Oh. That shit is a wrap. I ain’t about to waste a second on that topic. As a matter of fact, let’s talk about you being on the clock because our first date is gonna be this Saturday,” Kayshon says dismissively.
“Are you asking or telling me?” I snap with a roll of my neck, but he’s unable to see unless he can see through the phone.
“My asking you happened after that sham of a drink exchange when I told you to start preparing for the real date I was planning.”
This man is gonna keep me on my damn toes.
“What time should I be ready?” At this point, there’s no need to go back and forth with Kayshon about details or anything else.
“Seven should work.”
“Okay.” A warm glow flows through me as I ponder his plan for our first date, but I refuse to ask because I would rather wait to see firsthand how he’s coming straight out the gate.