Chapter 5
T his Hennessy Sidecar is the highlight of my long ass day and this bartender has perfected the recipe. The smooth Cognac, mixed with Cointreau and fresh lemon is liquid heaven on my lips. I need this. Hell, I need this one, another one, and more than likely a third. The objective tonight is to drink until I feel better.
Checking my mom into a nursing home did something to me. The severity of her condition hit me like a ton of bricks and while I tried to hold it together for my dad and Daija, I started crumbling as her care team evaluated her with small physical tasks and cognitive skills tests. Her hands visibly trembled a lot and she did not do too well on spatial awareness, visual processing, and short-term recall. It broke my heart, all of it, and my mom was getting visibly anxious. They had to give her a mild sedative.
While she rested, Daija and I left my dad there with her. While Daija went to the house to unpack and settle in, I grabbed some of my mom’s must haves and took them back to her. Although her room at Golden Age looks more like a suite at The Metropolitan, I wanted to make sure she was comfortable so I grabbed her favorite quilt, a few of her crossword puzzle books, some of her Light My Flames plugins, and toiletries. My mom can’t live without her Vaseline with cocoa butter.
As if seeing my mother weak and watching her struggle through those tests wasn’t hard enough, I had to witness my dad get teary eyed when I had to practically drag him away from her. Golden Age has a strict policy on the medically-assisted side. Overnight guests are not allowed. So as soon as I took my dad home, I cried myself to sleep.
Today was even worse. As soon as visitation began at nine, my dad was at the facility. I showed up an hour after him with my latte and his coffee. Daija slept in and stayed at the house. I’m sure she was tired but I know yesterday was hard on her too. It was emotionally rough and draining for us all so I didn’t bother to call and wake her.
My dad and I met with her doctors and the two to three weeks of rehab is being extended to six to eight. Yesterday’s evaluations and her blood work warrants the additional time. When we heard the news, the look on my dad’s face broke my heart a little more. He looked as weak as my mom and I wanted to cry. However, for both of their sakes, I held my tears in until I left the facility.
I drove home, cried in my shower as the hot water tried to soothe my body. Once I dressed, I realized I couldn’t stay home. The walls of my condo were closing in on me. So I ordered an iDrive and got my ass here. My best friend, Monae, invited me over to her place but I declined because I wanted to be alone. Well, as alone as I could be at a crowded ass bar, but at least here, I could fade into the crowd and not talk about my mom.
I down my drink, too fast, then lift my head to motion for the bartender. That’s when I see him; good looking ass Rex is sliding onto the empty stool on my left. If I didn’t see him, I definitely would have smelled him. His scent is the perfect cocktail of woodsy, fruity, and freshness.
“I’m starting to think you’re following me,” I tease, truly surprised but glad to see him again. His presence is already adding brightness to my very dreary day.
“I’m not but I’m not above it either,” he says then smiles.
Damn! He’s sexy and that smile. I could get lost in his smile.
“That sounds stalkerish.”
“Never that,” he says. The bartender finally makes her way to us and he speaks before I can. “Another one of these for her and a Hennessy Paradis on the rocks please.”
“Sorry, we don’t have Paradis. We only have regular or Black.”
“Black is fine,” he says. Then he pushes on the back of his phone and removes a credit card. He hands it to her. “I’ll cover her tab and run a new one for the both of us.”
“Great. Would you like a cigar menu?” the bartender asks and he looks at me.
“Do you smoke?” he asks.
“No but if you do, I want to try it. I’ve never smoked anything actually but I’ve been curious about cigars. I’ve been to their other locations a few times and thought about trying one but never did. Do you smoke?”
“Yeah, but just not around my daughter,” he says, then turns back to the bartender. “I don’t need a menu. Two Ashton Classics and the setup, please.”
“Alright,” she says.
As soon as she walks off, he turns to face me, his knees touching the side of my thigh. “Since you are a virgin, the Ashton Classic is perfect. It’s a mild Dominican cigar with a lot of flavor and a little bit of sweetness. I think you will like it,” he says. Clearly, he knows his cigars.
“What’s the setup?”
“An ashtray, small lighter torch, cigar cutter, a punch, a poker, and a nubber. All the stuff needed for the smoking experience.”
The bartender returns with our drinks, and as she’s placing them in front of us, she tilts her head up then says, “Here.”
One of the servers slides a tray between Rex and me and places it on the bar. Just like the other servers, she’s dressed in all black. It’s clean and simple but makes it easy to identify each server. My team wears green Redmond’s T-shirts and typically black half aprons around their waists but no color is mandated for their bottoms. Every time I see the uniformity here it makes me want to change that. Even with the variations of tights, jeans, skirts, it looks crisp because it’s one color.
The vibration of my cell in my pocket pulls me away from the cigar deliverer. When I pull it out, I see Monae has called and she’s texting now.
Monae: Where are you? I’m worried
Me: Don’t worry. I’m having a drink.
Monae: Where?? And you better not say Black Diamond cause I could’ve stayed at work.
Me: No. Flavor.
Monae: Which one? I’m coming.
Me: And have Just mad at me? NO! Stay with your hubby and the babies. I’m good. I promise.
I debate sending my next words but I don’t want her worrying or trying to bring her extra protective ass up here either. So after some thought, I send:
Me: Rex is here. I’m really good.
Monae: Rex? Mr. Fine Ass? Your favorite customer? Date?
Me: Damn! 20 questions. No date. I was here and he just came in. I’ll call you in the morning.
Monae: You better and have too much fun You deserve it. ily
Me: ily2
When I look up from my phone, his soul-penetrating eyes are steadied on me. Something about the intensity in them intrigues and intimidates me at the same damn time. I blink to keep from falling under the spell they seem to cast on me.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, just my friend checking on me.”
“I hope you told her you’re in good hands with me.”
“I did not,” I say, telling a whole ass lie. “She doesn’t need to know where I am.”
“Right because I got you.”
He raises his glass and takes a sip from his drink. I take several sips from mine, downing half the glass. Even though I’m no longer alone, my get-fucked-up plan is still in full effect. The second part of my plan, crashing alone in my bed, is what’s questionable. I have a feeling that fucking him will surely make me forget this day.
“I’m ready for my cigar,” I tell him and he grabs them off the tray.
After removing something from the end of both of them, he hands me one. “The first thing you want to do is smell it; savor the flavor,” he says.
When he lifts the cigar to his nose, I duplicate his action. Surprisingly, it has a very unique but sweet aroma. It’s kind of familiar, so I sniff it again, trying to distinguish the sweetness.
“I can smell something dessert-like in this. It kind of reminds me of caramelized sugar and cream. Is it going to taste like that when I smoke it?”
“You’ll taste sweet notes but the tobacco will be the strongest taste,” he points out and explains everything on the tray then grabs the cutter. After cutting the tip off both cigars, he takes the poker and punctures a hole in them. He lights his first and checks to make sure it’s fully and evenly lit. Then, I hold mine between my lips and he lights it. “Take it out and blow on it lightly. You want the whole end to flare red,” he says and I do. “Perfect. You’re ready now.”
“Am I going to get high?” I ask.
“Nah. Buzzed, a relaxing buzz because you don’t inhale cigars. This is not weed. Draw on it slowly then blow it out. Watch.” Honestly, I watch too damn hard, eyes glued to his lips. I’m still staring when he pulls the cigar from his lips. He nods for me to try but my focus hasn’t left his full, sexy lips. “You changed your mind?” he asks, snapping me away from his mouth.
“No,” I respond quickly, then take my first draw on the cigar. I can definitely taste the tobacco and the sweetness. I like it. So I take another draw then blow out the smoke. In my mind, I look like a sexy pro smoking my cigar but when I accidentally inhale, I cough lightly, and the image fades. “Ooh! I inhaled. I won’t do that again,” I say and we both grin.
After placing my cigar on the ashtray, I finish the rest of my drink. I’m ready for my third one. He draws on his cigar again before sipping more of his first drink. I get ready to motion the bartender over but thankfully, she reads my mind and walks over.
“Another round?” she asks.
“Definitely for me but make this one a double,” I say and her right eyebrow lifts in judgement. Any other night, I might care but I give zero fucks tonight. So I raise my empty glass and repeat, “A double.”
When I place the glass back on the bar counter, she looks at him. “What about you?”
“I’m straight,” he responds with a nod.
The moment she walks off, I pick up my cigar and hit it again, careful not to inhale. He studies me as I do then smiles like a proud teacher when I don’t cough.
“Did you eat at the restaurant tonight?” I ask.
“No. I didn’t stop by.”
“Somebody else cooked for you?” I try to ask casually but I don’t think it lands. Even I can hear the unexpected jealousy in my tone. I might as well have asked what I wanted… Did your woman cook for you instead?
“Yeah,” is all he offers before taking a sip from his cup.
And? Who? I question with my eyes but he doesn’t answer. His elusiveness, although a little sexy, pisses me off. I want answers. My curiosity has been piqued since he started coming into the restaurant. It’s always just him and his pretty little girl, no woman, and clearly no mother. He’s a fine ass man, obviously a great father, and has his shit together. Not only is he an ex-boxer but he’s also a business owner. Rex checks all the boxes. So who the hell cooked his food tonight?
When the judgmental bartender returns with my drink, I take a big gulp, allowing the double shot of Hennessy in my Sidecar to slide down my throat and penetrate my blood, then I vocalize what my eyes tried to.
“Who cooked for you?” I ask and he chuckles a little.
“My mother did. You wanna know what I ate too?” The smug look on his face can’t be missed and neither can my relief followed by a smirk.
“Yes, please,” I respond.
“Oxtail stew and mashed potatoes.”
“Mm. That sounds so good. Really good,” I admit then sigh, realizing I hadn’t eaten shit today. With everything going on, the last thing on my mind was food. All I had was that latte this morning and I didn’t eat yesterday either. “Hearing that made my stomach growl.”
“You hungry? We can go grab something if you want.”
“Starving actually but it’s late,” I note. The numbers on my cell screen revealed it’s after eleven. “The only thing open is Taco Express and that late night line is always ridiculous.”
“I’ll wait in the line for you,” he offers.
“Or…” I hesitate then quickly down the rest of my double Sidecar. It provides the spirited courage needed for my next words. “Or I can order delivery and by the time we get to my place it should be arriving. I didn’t drive and I’m hoping you did.”
“Taking you home wasn’t up for debate,” he asserts without no damn hesitation while nodding at my empty glass. “Order your food.”
He takes another draw on his cigar then snuffs it out. I do the same with mine then do as he says, start placing my order. “What do you want?” I ask.
“Nothing. I’m straight.”
“Watching your figure?” I tease.
“Nah. The only figure I enjoy watching is yours, Truce,” he says salaciously and gotdamn!
“Well, I’m ready then,” I reply after submitting my order for three birria tacos and a small elotes. “Let me go to the restroom first.” He stands at my words then steadies the back of the stool while I ease off. The minute my soles hit the floor, I realize how tipsy I am. My legs feel like jelly. “Damn! I think I sat down too long.”
His hand grips the side of my waist. “Can you walk?”
“Yeeeessss. I’m not that drunk. I’m good.” My hand lands on top of his, then I gently push it off me. When I turn back to face him, he’s so close I can’t resist myself. I lean up, peck his cheek, then smile. “I can walk. Settle the check and I’ll be ready.”
I turn to walk off and make sure to not turn around. I add a little sway to my ass and hips for his benefit. My legs are truly gelatinous and I find myself holding on to a few chairs and tables as I make my way to the restroom. As soon as I’m inside, I rush to the stall and perform a miracle as I balance and squat to pee on these unsteady ass legs. God is so good because all of the pee makes it into the toilet and not on my damn wobbly legs.
After finishing up and washing my hands, I study my face in the mirror. My body wave hair is still bodying and my face looks pretty good. My lip liner is still intact and thanks to my classic lash extensions, my eyes look good too despite the fact that I’ve been crying the past two days.
Before walking out of the restroom, I text Monae:
Me: You still up?
Monae: Yes, retwisting Just.
Me: Let the man go to April.
Monae: I don’t know her. Until Nyla comes back from maternity leave, I’m doing his hair. Are you okay though?
Me: Yes. I’m leaving Flavor with Rex.
Monae:
Me: That’s it. No lecture?
Monae: Nope. This/him I approve of. It’s better than you drunk texting Loc’s hoe-ass.
Me: LOL. I’m down but not that damn down, fuck Loc.
Monae: Fuck him till it’s backwards LOL and have too much fun with Rex frfr. Ily.
Me: I will. Ily2
I meant what I texted too. I’m truly in my feelings about my mom and dad but not so much in them to contact my ex, Loc. For lack of a better term, he’s a hoe. Faithful and monogamy are two words he’s severely allergic to. At his core, he’s a good dude but he let his celebrity barber title go to his head. We were together when he still owned his shop but once he sold it to his best barber, Nyla, things started changing. He started traveling more and his cheating became evident. When the first chick had the nerve to come into my family’s business and start shit, it was a wrap for us. I’m not about to argue over a cheating ass negro with any chick. She can have him.
When I walk out of the restroom, Rex is in the hall, leaned back on the wall. His legs are inched apart and his hands are clasped together in front of him. This simple pose is sexy as fuck and confirms my decision to allow him to take me home.
“Let’s go,” I say when I’m standing in front of him.
He straightens his pose, places one hand on the arch of my back and the other on my hip, then holds me as we walk out of Flavor.