18. Isaac
18
Isaac
I looked around the busy parking lot, searching for Dunk’s Cadillac. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been to the mall, but this was where he’d insisted on meeting up.
I was giving him five more minutes before I dipped.
It was hot as fuck today, too. Springtime in Texas ain’t for the weak.
Finally, he pulled up on me in the big green machine, as he called it.
“You got me out here in this hot ass sun,” I scolded. “We could’ve met at my spot.”
“Nah, I don’t talk business inside.”
“So what’s good?”
His eyes scanned the parking lot. “If it’s a go, I’ll set the shit in motion. But you gotta commit to this shit, man.”
“I hear you.”
“You wanna think about it?”
“You know what? Yeah. Give me a day.”
He chucked a peace sign and pulled off.
I sat in my car and cranked the air up, sitting in place for a minute to think.
Dunk was willing to connect me with his people. That wasn’t something I could easily overlook. It ain’t easy money by any means, but it would be my own shit, and I would be able to set myself up for the future—a future I could actually see, instead of that dead-end number bullshit Taurus had me doing.
But once you’re in that shit, you’re in it. That was the downside, or one of them, at least.
And there was also the risk of jail. Again. Real, hard time, given my history. I told myself, and PJ, that I wouldn’t be back, but it’s real fucking easy to say that when you’re walking out the door, sighing in relief. Once reality hits you, it’s even easier to switch up on yourself.
But that’s the thing about gambling. If you win, you can win big. If you lose…you could fuck up your entire life.
I pulled off, still deep in thought, imagining how badly my mama would take it if I got locked up again for real. Or how hard rock bottom would be when I hit it.
And then there was Zay.
I hadn’t heard from her since I ate her pussy and sent her home. She was still on her bullshit, talking about I can’t do this while she had her legs spread wide open for us to do this. And I did that shit, I have to say. Ate her pussy off the bone, made her cum, and told her I understood. I should have edged her pretty ass a little bit, but I had mercy on her. She wanted to stick around and cuddle, but my dick wasn’t having that, so I walked her to her car and texted her later to make sure she made it home.
I fell asleep with my fingers right next to my face where I could inhale her scent all night. I don’t think she had any idea how much I wanted her. I could tell her all day, but she wouldn’t understand until she felt it for herself.
I wasn’t sure when that would be.
Me not being a relationship type, or me being ran through, as she put it, had made me an impatient man. Every woman I dealt with knew the deal going in. No love, no dates, just fucking. But Zay was different.
I could wait if I absolutely had to.
As soon as I settled at home, I called her up. I wasn’t surprised at all that the first thing out her mouth was some bullshit.
“I owe you an apology,” she announced.
“For what?”
“The other night.”
“What are you apologizing for, exactly? That I ate your pussy? That it felt good? That you came? What are we doing?”
“I can’t with you.”
“Seriously, what are you sorry for?”
She sighed. “For letting it get that far.”
“You wanted it to get that far.”
“Isaac…”
“It’s okay to like sex, Zay. We grown as fuck over here. We’re supposed to like it.”
“We did something sexual while I was working .” She paused. “Isaac, I don’t think you understand how bad this is. I could literally lose my job over this. I could even go to jail.”
“Whatever. Did you write that shit up yet? That’s what I called for. Not no apology.”
“I have the papers in front of me right now.”
“So, write your little signature on it real quick so we can do this.”
She sighed. “Well, that was gonna be my question. What is this , exactly?”
“I told you the other night. I wanna get to know you. I wanna date you.”
“Date, not just…?”
“Fuck? I mean, it’s high on the list, but you know that’s not all I want.”
Her silence went on and on, but I used my newfound patience to wait her out. This was her job. Her livelihood. Might not have meant much to me, but it meant everything to her.
“Okay,” she finally said. “I’ll write it up tonight.”
“How long will it take to go through?”
“Should be processed tomorrow. Friday at the latest.”
“Cool. Let me take you out tomorrow.”
“We should wait until everything is processed.”
“We’ll go to Langston. Nobody knows us there.”
She was quiet. Thinking again. “What did you have in mind?”
“Let me worry about that. Be ready at seven.”
“What should I wear?”
“Whatever you want, sexy.”
Montrose and Associates, my brother’s company, was on the southwest side of Summerville. Him and his fiancée had only had their new office for a few months. Today was my first time stopping by.
I looked around me and nodded. “This shit is nice.”
Vic smiled and closed his office door behind me. “Better than T’s?”
“Nah. You ain’t there yet,” I joked as I seated myself. “I’m proud of you, man.”
“’Preciate that. You want something to drink?”
“I’m good. I actually need some advice.”
He took a seat behind his large mahogany desk. Looking like the president and shit. “What’s up?”
“I got a date tomorrow, and I don’t know what the fuck to do.”
“I’m confused. You stay with a new woman.”
“In my bed . This is different.”
His brow furrowed. “Who is it?”
“When I tell you, I don’t wanna hear shit. Alright?”
“Yeah. Who is it?”
“My PO.”
He leaned back in his chair and stared me down. “Yo, I need to see this chick, cuz she got you out here moving different.”
“Fuck outta here.”
“So y’all gon’ sneak around?”
“She’s transferring me to a new one, so like I said, I don’t wanna hear shit.”
“She’s still an officer of the law or the court or some shit, though, right? Which you stay on the wrong side of.”
“You gon’ help me out or not?”
“When’s the last time you been on a date?”
“I don’t even know.”
“I mean, shit ain’t really changed. Dinner. Movie. Pull out her chair. Kiss at the door. You know this shit, man.”
“If I did, would I be here asking you?”
He grinned. “So, you like her, then.”
“Obviously.”
“You in love?”
“How you get from a date to love?”
“Cuz you do more hit and runs than a drunk driver, nigga.”
I spread my hands. “I can’t change?”
“You know what? I really hope you do.”
“Me, too. I feel like if anybody could change me, it would probably be her.”
“Yeah, but…I kinda feel like changing for somebody else is temporary. You gotta change for you.”
“True. I guess I’ve never had a reason before.”
He frowned at that. “Your freedom ain’t reason enough?”
“Man, you sound like T.”
“I know you don’t wanna hear this, but just because he talks reckless don’t mean he’s wrong in what he’s saying.”
He was right. I didn’t wanna hear that shit. Me and Vic were always cliqued up together. We were closer. But lately, it hadn’t been feeling that way.
Maybe it was because they were both cliqued up with their women now.
“How’s E doing?”
“She’s good. We set a date.”
“Finally!”
“Oh, now you like weddings?”
“I like seeing my brother happy.”
He smiled, putting a hand on his chest as he looked at me with heart eyes. “You know I love you, right? And I want the same thing for you.”
“I know.”
“So, fall in love, nigga.”
“Whatever.” We shared a laugh at that. “Stay tuned.”
“Yeah. Seriously, good luck tomorrow.”
I was kinda surprised by how I felt when I left his office.
For the first time since I started getting girls, I was nervous. I felt like I needed luck.
Maybe Zay really did have me moving different.
Right after I knocked on her apartment door, I heard the sounds of some annoying ass, yappin’ ass dogs.
When Zay opened the door, I barely had a chance to look at her before they charged me, jumping all over my legs like they ain’t have no home training.
“Sorry!” she said breathlessly, shooing them away with her hands. “Pinky! Brownie! Sit!”
“It’s all good.”
I stepped inside, because I wasn’t about to let no puppies punk me. While she herded them off to another room, I took a look around the apartment.
Her whole place looked like her. Bright. Colorful. Cheery. Cozy. I walked over to her mantle to study the pictures on top. Her and her family, her on the beach, them raggedy ass dogs, her as a kid. In every picture, she was smiling big. Interesting. So, she’d always been happy.
“Ready! Sorry again,” she said breathlessly. “They’re always excited to meet people.”
I turned around, finally getting a good look at her. She wore a long yellow dress this time, with sandals and big gold earrings. Her hair was wild and free, all curly and fluffy like clouds haloing her pretty face.
“You are so beautiful.”
She instantly looked down at the floor and smiled.
“That can’t be the first time you’ve heard that.”
She brought her eyes back to mine. “It’s my first time hearing it from you.”
“Won’t be the last.” I held out my hand. “Let’s go.”
I opened her door, buckled her in, and got us on the road. Might have been overkill, but this shit was new to me.
“What kind of music do you like?”
“R&B, mostly.” She took a deep breath and blew it out. “Sorry. I’m kind of nervous.”
“Why are you nervous?”
“It’s our first date,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Is that the only reason?”
“The transfer hasn’t been approved yet. I know it’s coming, but I wish it was done. It’s just hard to relax with it still hanging out there.”
“Listen. All that rah rah, optimistic shit you throw at me all the time? I’ma need some of that on this date.”
She laughed. “So now you want the false hope?”
“It ain’t false. Not when it comes to us.”
“Us,” she repeated.
“If I have my way, that’s what we’ll be.”
She didn’t answer that.
Which was fine. She still wasn’t sure about all this. I might not be a dating expert, but I do know a few simple truths about women. I was gonna have to show and prove myself to her if I was gonna have a real shot, and that transfer was gonna have to go through before she let herself relax enough to let me in.
Without a CD player, I was forced to put the radio on an R&B station and hope for the best. That shit never bothered me before, but at that moment, with Zay sitting in my car, I was feeling lowkey inadequate.
I brushed that feeling aside and used my peripheral to pay her as much attention as I could. Her mannerisms stood out to me…she was still nervous, circling her fingers around each other, pulling down the visor to check her face in the mirror, fidgeting with her dress. I wished there was a way to make her comfortable, but that, too, would come in time.
Patience.
We crossed over into Langston, the closest thing to an all-black town we had in southern Texas. After a few miles, I pulled into the parking lot and looked over at her to catch her smile when she saw the marquee.
She didn’t disappoint.
“Don’t worry,” I said as I cut the car off. “I’m not drinking.”
Her face fell. “I wasn’t gonna say anything.”
“You were thinking it.”
She tilted her head. “I’ll learn to turn it off at some point.”
“No worries, Zay. I’m a patient man when I wanna be.”
Inside Cork & Canvas, we settled at our table. The vibe was nice. Romantic. Soft music played. The lights were low. Every table was outfitted with candles.
Zay looked around. “Art and food,” she said. “I like this place already.”
“It’s couples’ night. Take that how you will.”
She laughed. “You’re so persistent.”
“I know what I want.”
Her eyes scanned the room again, but this time, her body tensed. “I keep thinking I’m gonna see somebody I know.”
“Well, until you do, let’s focus on this right here.”
She nodded.
Our waitress appeared with a smile for us. “Hi, guys. Have you been here before?”
We both shook our heads.
“I’m Shan, and you’re in for a treat. You can do dinner or art first. Drinks are continuous. An instructor will come by to check on you answer any questions.”
“Instructor?”
“Art instructor,” I said.
“Yes. Now, do you prefer paint, pencil, ink, charcoal, marker, wax, or pastel?”
Zay looked at me for help.
“She’ll take paint. For me, pencil. Yall got graphite?”
“Yes.”
“Cool. And she wants a drink.”
Zay thought for a minute. “Um…apple martini?”
“Of course. And you?”
“Club soda.”
Zay smiled. “Are you gonna order my food for me, too?”
“If you want me to.” I leaned over and locked eyes with her. “I want you to feel taken care of. If that’s not your thing, let me know.”
She smiled. “I like it.”
“I know.”
We decided to eat first. Once we ordered, it came pretty fast. I started in on my calamari, while Zay ate something that looked weird as fuck.
“What is that you have?”
She swallowed quickly. “Stuffed grape leaves.”
“What’s that sauce?”
“Tzatziki. You wanna taste?”
She dipped one and held it out to me. I bit into it and nodded as the flavors exploded on my tongue.
“Damn.”
“Good, right?”
I leaned in closer as she fed me the rest. When I got down to the end, I grabbed her hand and held it so that I could lick the sauce off her fingertips. After I swallowed, I licked her finger again, then put it in my mouth and sucked the tip. A little reminder of the other night and a preview of things to come. She breathed deep and squirmed in her seat, but she didn’t stop me, and she didn’t say a word.
“Wow.”
Zay’s head snapped to the right, where Shan now stood, but I kept my eyes on her, softly kissing her fingertips.
“Sorry,” she said breathlessly.
“Girl, no sorry necessary. Whew.” Shan fanned at her face. “I wanna bring y’all the check so you can get on home.”
I let her hand go, but my eyes stayed fixed. I couldn’t keep them off her, no matter how hard I tried.
I’d never been obsessed with a woman. Most, I could take or leave, and the ones I actually liked were always one orgasm away from being kicked to the curb. I didn’t know Zay well enough yet to say I was obsessed, but I know one thing: I ain’t never sucked on a woman’s finger in public before.
After Shan cleared the plates, she flicked on our lamp and brought our art supplies, complete with easels and smocks. Zay decided she didn’t need the art instructor, which was fine with me, then we started on our work.
“What are you painting?”
She smiled. “I’m not telling you.”
“Then I won’t tell you what I’m drawing.”
I decided to sketch her in black and white. I remembered from art class how the lack of color can convey timelessness, and I thought that fit her well. Her type of beauty, and kindness, and generous spirit was like something from another time. It wasn’t necessarily something I could put into words, but I could definitely express it on the page.
I didn’t need to stare at her while I sketched. I could close my eyes and see the curves in her face, the almond shape of her eyes, the thickness of her hair, the heart shape of her mouth. I didn’t lie to her that day in my office…I saw her face a lot when I was locked up, and especially the day I got home. She was the star of the films I created in my mind. Some were rated PG. Others were rated triple-X.
I enjoyed them all.
To my surprise, I wasn’t all that rusty. The sketch came out better than I expected.
“You ready to show me, Zay?”
Her brows were furrowed, her lip tucked between her teeth as she concentrated on her work. “I’m not quite done.”
“Hurry up. I wanna see your masterpiece.”
“You can’t rush art, Isaac.”
“True. God sure took his time with you.”
Her face relaxed as she shot me a soft, playful look. “You really need to stop that.”
“What, being honest?”
She shook her head and went back to her canvas. I watched her as she used the cutest, most improper form to paint. I liked watching her, though. Doing anything. Everything about her said peace and calm, which is something I hadn’t had a lot of in the last several years.
“Alright, I think I’m done,” she announced.
“Let’s see.”
“You first.”
I turned my easel around and watched as her eyes went wide and filled with tears. I instantly regretted making her cry, because it woke up something primal in me. And something traumatic. I watched my mama cry every day for a year, and it made an impact. I’m like Pavlov’s dog when it comes to a woman’s tears.
Women I care about, that is.
And unless we’re having sex.
“Isaac…this is…it’s…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “I can’t believe you did that. It’s so beautiful.”
“I drew you exactly as I see you.”
“Stop.”
“I’m not sweet-talking you, Zay. I only say what I mean.”
She pressed her fingers to the undersides of her eyes instead of wiping them. I smiled at that and waited for her to get herself together.
“Alright, well…” she gripped the edges of her canvas. “Mine isn’t quite as…detailed as yours. Or good. Or even recognizable. But I put my heart into it.”
“It’s all good. Let me see.”
She closed her eyes and turned it toward me. A laugh bubbled in my throat, but I swallowed it down and nodded.
“That’s…wow. Tell me about it.”
My art teacher, Mr. Tillman, always made it a point to never say, “What is it?”
That always stuck with me, for some reason.
“Well, this light brown thing is my dog, Pinkie. The chocolate shape is my dog, Brownie. They’re my babies.”
“Okay. I see the vision.”
“It’s horrible, you can say it.”
“I would never say that about anything related to you.”
She smiled. “And you really don’t think you’re sweet-talking me?”
She had no idea that every word out of my mouth was genuine. I’d make her see that eventually if she let me.