4.
Diedra is on the phone with her legs spread across my couch like she lives here now.
I’m glad she’s here because last night was crazy, and I have to tell her about the ridiculousness that happened during my dinner with Kasim.
At the same time, I’m curious about how hers went.
Hopefully, one of us had a good time because while mine started out promising, it ended in disappointment.
Should I be surprised, though? That’s how it ended all those years ago, too.
After popping two bags of Pop Secret and dumping them into a big white bowl, I take the bowl to the living room, then return to the kitchen to grab the pitcher of hard lemonade and a couple of glasses. I move her legs out of the way and take a seat on my sofa that she thinks is all hers.
“Oh, my bad,” she says, texting like a pro. I’ve never seen anyone text as fast as this girl. She’s faster than most teenage girls with them twenty-nine-year-old thumbs.
“Who are you texting?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She flashes devious eyes my way, then continues typing.
I roll my eyes. “Diedra, put the phone down so you can tell me about your date.”
She thumbs a final message, then places her phone on the table. She says, “Okay, so guuurl,” she pops her lips like she’s got something juicy to tell me.
“What? Tell me.”
“Okay, so the man was foine, okay! I mean, I sat right there and stared into his smooth, dark chocolate face all evening. The conversation was fire. We vibed. Girl, it was everything. Oh, and get this—he even paid for the meal. I ain’t have to pull out my wallet for nothing.”
“That’s good,” I say, fisting a handful of popcorn and cramming it into my mouth. “Are you going to see him again or—?”
“Yep. We’re going out next weekend.”
“What’s his name?”
“Wade Jeffries. He’s forty years young.”
Ack!
I choke on popcorn. Coughing to clear my passageways, I say, “He’s forty?”
“Forty years young ,” she repeats and smiles like she’s reminiscing on their dinner date.
“Okay, stop saying that. Forty ain’t old, but it ain’t young either. Be real. That man is midlife. You’re in your twenties.”
“So.”
“So, run! Run right now, and don’t look back.”
“Why?”
“Diedra, do you know how much life that man done lived at forty? You’re twenty-nine. You already got a daddy.”
“Talk all you want, but there’s nothing wrong with an older man. They’re mature, seasoned, nurturing, and I can tell he’s all those things. I’m finna be one of those soft-life wives who lie out by the pool all day while getting my feet rubbed.”
I laugh at her foolishness and say, “I don’t see that for you. In my humble opinion, I feel like you need to be with someone you can grow and build with—not somebody who has already experienced life and can’t experience anything new with you.”
“I see what you’re saying, but I don’t think that will be enough to change my mind. I like him and I want to see where it goes.”
I pour us lemonade and take a sip of mine right away.
“Whew! I made that strong.”
Diedra drinks some. Her face scrunches, and she pulls her collar out and looks down her shirt.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Trying to see if there’s hair on my chest after drinking this so-called lemonade. Girl, this is straight vodka.”
Amused, I say, “No, it’s not. Perhaps I poured a little too much in.”
“Ya think?”
“After the dinner I had, I probably knew I needed it.”
“What happened?”
“Diedra, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
I take another sip, prompting my eyes to squint while my brows snap together, trying to steady myself.
The burn meandered down my throat while the taste on my tongue remained strong and potent.
I blink rapidly, shake my head, and wince.
Placing the glass on the table, I say, “Okay, enough of all that.”
I clear my throat, release a long, slow breath to preface what I’m about to say, then just decide to go for it. “I know him, Diedra.”
“What! How? Who is he? I have so many questions.”
“You remember me telling you about the friend I had when I was growing up—the one I was really close with?”
“Yeah—the boy who kissed you?”
“Yes. Him. His name is Kasim Noble. He was my…date.”
“Oh, my God. Aren’t you lucky? You were so in love with him back in the day, and boom—here is your chance to reconnect.”
“Stop it. I was not in love with him.”
“You were. Every time I turned around, it was Kase, Kase, Kase. You used to talk about him all the time when we were in high school. We were freshmans. Remember?
Of course I remember. Kasim was my world for a good six and a half years – that is, until his mother came into the picture and ruined everything. Actually, I can’t put all the blame on her. He was just as much at fault. It was his words that hurt the most.
She continues, “You compared every guy who tried to talk to you to him , and for some reason, they couldn’t hold a candle to Kasim.”
“You never did tell me what happened between y’all.”
“That was a long time ago, Diedra. There’s no need to rehash the past.”
“Okay, well, at least tell me about your date. I peeked over there at your table and saw you smiling frequently. I thought you were having a good time.”
“I mean, it was a good time. We talked a little about the past, about our parents—”
“Did you tell him you were obsessed with him and that’s why you don’t have a man to this day?”
With an eyeroll, I answer, “I don’t have a man because I don’t want one. I don’t have room in my life for one. They say you attract what you put out there into the world. Right now, I’m a hot mess—”
“Timeout. Hot mess how? You’re doing pretty good to me.”
“I don’t like where I am right now in life. It’s like I’m stuck in a rut and there’s no way out of it. I for certain ain’t about to attract no more mess to my mess. Now, if you would be quiet for two minutes, I can tell you about the rest of the date.”
“Fine.” She grabs a handful of popcorn, stuffs it into her mouth and garbles, “Okay, go.”
I suppose she’s using the popcorn to prevent herself from talking. Whatever works.
I say, “So, he paid for dinner—same as your guy. He ordered a bottle of wine, an appetizer, and we had our individual entrees. Oh, by the way, the restaurant was expensive as crap. I don’t know who organized this event, but they need to do better.
We can’t be out here raising money for charity and going flat broke at the same time. I mean, come on.”
“I agree. I guess they just wanted to create an upscale experience, but they should probably find a restaurant with reasonable prices.”
Diedra attempts her drink again.
I say, “So, we were talking, you know…catching up, and then somehow, the conversation turned to money. I tried to change the subject, but he didn’t want to.”
“What was the money conversation about?”
“Money!” I say, then chuckle.
She says, “I know that. Be more specific.”
“Okay, so he was asking me about my job. I told him straight up that I was at a job I didn’t like, and I had financial obligations, which is why I stayed.
He didn’t like that I was doing something I wasn’t passionate about.
Said he remembered how passionate I was back then.
Sometime after that, he offered me a million dollars to marry him. ”
Diedra’s face goes blank. “Stop playing with me, Giada.”
“I lie to you not.”
She takes a sip of lemonade. The color is still drained from her face when she says, “He offered you a million dollars to marry him? What in the world?”
“He said he can’t get access to his inheritance unless he’s married.”
“Wayment…that don’t-een sound legal.”
“It is if that’s how your parents wrote up their will.”
“A million flippin’ dollars…” she says, mulling over my words, trying to make sense of this.
“Yes. That was the offer.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him he was crazy.”
“Girl, is you crazy? A million dollars? Shoot, for a million, I’d do more than marry him. I’d—”
“Hush, Diedra. I don’t want to hear what you would do for a million dollars. I, on the other hand, am not desperate for money.”
“After all them bills you pay for your mama, you should be!”
“Wait—are you saying I should consider it?”
“When do you think you’re going to get another offer like that? I mean, you just have to marry the man.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s all I have to do— marry someone as if marriage isn’t a sacred union. Life is complicated enough as it is. I don’t think I can do that.”
“But he’s not asking anything else of you, is he? Just marriage?”
“That’s all he said.”
“Where’s your phone?”
“Why?”
“Because you calling him not right now, but right now!”
“No, I’m not, and the answer is no.”
“Giada, you’re not thinking rationally.”
“That’s what he said.”
“Think of what a milli would do to your life. You could buy a house, pay off your car, and your mama’s car. Shoot, you could buy your mom a house! And not to mention you’d be married to your childhood crush.”
“I’m good.”
“Giada, you’re breaking my heart,” she says, being all dramatic like she usually is.
“Well, you better go over there and grab that box of Kleenex.”
I feel my phone buzz in the pocket of these comfortable lounge pants I have on. I take it out and see that I have a new text message notification from a number that’s not saved in my contacts.
Giada, give me a call, please. This is Kasim.
A frown immediately comes to my face. How did he get my number?
“Girl, you look like you just saw a ghost. What’s wrong?”
“He just texted me.”
“Kasim?”
“Yeah. He wants me to call him, which ain’t going to happen. I don’t know how he got my number in the first place. What the heck is happening?”
“Girl, you can’t stop a persistent man, especially one with a bankroll. He probably knows where you live by now.”
“This is absurd. I’m finna put an end to it right now.”
I type a reply.
I don’t know how you got this number, but I told you ‘no’ to your proposal already. It was good to see you last night, but that’s where it ends. Goodbye, Kasim.