BRUNCH #3
“I asked him to join me for lunch,” Twyla corrected, bouncing her eyes around the table.
“But then he kissed me, and fingered me under the table at the restaurant, and asked if he could take me out on a date and fuck me as a nightcap.” She rushed the rest of the words out, giddiness stealing her natural pauses.
“I know that’s right!” Sierra hooted, holding her hand in the air.
After slapping it loudly, Twyla laughed. “I almost can’t believe it,” she admitted. “I’ve been lusting after him for so long, I never thought something would ever happen between us.”
“Wait,” Vanessa said, holding up a hand. “Hasn’t it only been a few months?”
Pursing her lips, Twyla blinked owlishly at her friend.
“Yes, Nessa. But those few months have been pure torture. Staring at his round ass every morning, hearing the way my name rolls off of his tongue, smelling his cologne.” Twyla sighed dreamily, blinking her eyes rapidly. “Torture.”
Vanessa laughed. “It’s only been torture because your crazy ass been half in love with him this whole time.
Swiveling her head, Twyla raised her eyebrows. “Right. So you understand my dilemma?”
Laughter rang around the table before Seraph spoke up.
“Hold on. How are you half in love with this man when you’ve barely talked to him?”
Twyla pursed her lips. “Uh, excuse me. Barely is a gross understatement.”
“Chile,” Vanessa began, hardly able to contain her giggling. “The way to this girl’s heart is through her coochie. Once that thang get ‘ta jumping, she’s ready to meet them at the altar in her white dress.”
As if she understood completely, Seraph nodded. “So what I’m hearing is that it only takes a little bit of clitoral stimulation to activate the delulu chip. Got it.”
Twyla screamed. “Bitch! Anyway!”
Everyone burst into peals of laughter as Twyla went on to fill them in on what she expected that afternoon.
“Wait!” Vanessa called out incredulously, interrupting Twyla mid-sentence. “He’s picking you up? As in, coming to your house? The one you share with your opp—I mean, birth giver?”
Twyla was torn between laughing and groaning. “She’s not my opp—”
Sierra clicked her tongue. “Shit, if she were any more your opp she’d be fed.”
Vanessa held her hand up for a high five. “Hello!”
“Anyway,” Twyla continued, “she works all weekend. That’s the only reason I agreed when he asked to come get me.”
“Shout out to the hospital for the schedule!” Seraph pantomimed raising the roof. “It still blows my mind how that evil-ass lady is a damn nurse.”
“That tracks, if you ask me,” Sierra muttered, bringing her glass to her lips.
“She’s not evil, y’all.” Twyla’s words were flat even to her own ears.
Rolling her eyes, Sierra shooed the words away as if they were acrid smoke over the table. “The real question is, when are you moving out?”
Vanessa pointed a finger at Sierra. “That part.”
Seraph frowned. “What was the fake question?”
“It’s ‘When is she kicking that lady out?’ The lease is in her name so that’s the most logical step.”
“I can’t kick my mama out!” Twyla protested.
“You could,” Vanessa murmured.
“Yes, I’m aware.” Sierra responded, looking at Twyla. “That’s why it’s the fake question.”
Seraph patted Twyla’s arm. “We just want you to be happy and healthy, and there’s no way you can be mentally healthy when you live with her.”
Twyla sighed. “I know, and I appreciate y’all. I think I’m finally getting to a place where I can move out. The way she was asking about Arturo had me so annoyed.”
Eyes narrowed, Sierra tilted her head to the side. “Say more.”
Twyla spent the next few minutes recalling the conversation with her mother from a few nights previous. Her friends each echoed some variation of the icky feeling it gave her but their advice was all some variation of that one song from Hustle & Flow and that was a no go.
Hours later, brunch was over and she was back home preparing for her date. As she brushed on eyeshadow, she thought over Vanessa’s comment from earlier at the restaurant. She’d been joking but Twyla could admit there was some truth to it. She was already half in love with Arturo.
The crush she’d had on him from the first moment she noticed him had only grown as they began their morning routine and his interest in her became apparent as well.
Her feelings for him were the only reason she’d been able to let him do the things he did to her on their lunch date without remorse.
Twyla would never call herself a prude, but public sex wasn’t something she’d ever considered.
That hadn’t stopped her from grabbing his dick, and when Arturo’s hand had smoothed its way up her thigh, the only thing on her mind had been feeling his fingers brushing her most intimate spot.
The doorbell rang just as she was stuffing a handful of condoms into the zippered compartment of her shoulder bag.
If things went her way, every single one of them would be used and discarded before the night was over.
After giving herself a final once over in her floor-length mirror, she hurried into the living room and opened the door for her date.