Chapter 3
“I can’t believe you’re mad that my brother-in-law is living his life. He gave you a chance, and you claimed not to be interested,” Nyomi said.
It was the Thursday after I’d seen that nasty ass text Knox received from Lorianna, and I was in my office talking to Nyomi on the phone while on my lunch break. We both worked for BEU. She was the director of library services, and I was the director of admissions.
“I’m not mad,” I denied.
“You sound mad.”
“If anything, I’m surprised he’s out there like that. When we went out, he put on a whole show as if he was ready to settle down, yet he has women sending him pussy pics.”
I was thoroughly impressed with Knox’s outdoor carpentry work but was completely disgusted when the pussy picture appeared at the top of his phone screen.
“Y’all went out damn near a year ago, Skye. Did you expect him to stop living his life?”
“Of course not. But getting nasty pictures from women you aren’t committed to is not the behavior of a man looking to settle down.”
“He can’t control what women send him, and who says he isn’t committed to her?” she asked.
“Because it wasn’t the same girl I saw him with at the bowling alley, and you haven’t mentioned meeting anyone.”
“I haven’t, but—”
“I rest my case. If she were someone important, he would’ve introduced her to you and Kilo by now.”
“Just because I haven’t met her doesn’t mean Kilo hasn’t. Why are we talking about him anyway, sis? Have you changed your mind about—”
“Absolutely not. Knox is for the streets, and I want no parts of him and his shenanigans.”
“Bestie, you know I’m with you when you’re right, but I will tell you when you’re wrong.”
“How am I wrong?”
“If you think Knox is for the streets, then you two are on the same page.”
“How so?”
“A few weeks ago, you said, and I quote, ‘Knox probably thinks I’m for the streets.’”
I gasped at the reminder of my words, and my mouth opened and closed a few times, but nothing came out.
“Yeah, you should be speechless,” Skye said.
“Are you saying I’m for the streets?”
“No, I’m just repeating what you said, but I mean . . .”
“Nyomi Gabrielle St. Patrick.”
“That’s me.”
“Are you calling your best friend of almost twenty years a ho?”
“A ho?”
“Yes, ho, a ho!”
“Do you think Knox is a ho . . . because y’all are essentially doing the same thing?”
“We aren’t—I’m not—he’s—you know what? I’ll call you later.”
I ended the call and tossed my phone on my desk. I wasn’t mad, but I was mad, and I knew that didn’t make any sense. I didn’t know what made me think Knox, with his fine ass, didn’t have pussy being thrown at him from every direction.
It didn’t mean he was catching it, but he probably kept a few women in the chamber, just as I kept a few men. If I thought he was a ho, then I was one as well.
“I’ll be damned.”
My phone vibrated, and I picked it up to see a text from Nyomi.
Bestie:
I love you, bestie!
Me:
Yeah, whatever.
Bestie:
You’d better call me later too.
Me:
I said I would. Love you too.
Nyomi and I were like sisters, and we were always honest with each other, even when we knew what we had to say might not be well received. Although I didn’t like being faced with reality sometimes, our conversation gave me something to think about.
I lied and didn’t call Nyomi that evening. Stokely was headed back to Prairie View tomorrow evening, and we had dinner plans that had slipped my mind. He wanted to go to Elm Street Blues, and once we were seated, we quietly perused the menu.
I was still thinking about my conversation with Nyomi about Knox, and I hadn’t been the best company. Once we ordered drinks and appetizers, Stokely finally inquired about my mood.
“What’s going on with you, Ma?” he asked.
“What do you mean? I’m trying to decide what I want to eat.”
He eyed me like he knew I was lying, then returned his attention to the menu. The server returned with our drinks and appetizer, then took our meal orders. When she walked away, my son stared at me.
“What, Stokely?”
“You aren’t the best company right now,” he said.
“There was a lot going on at work today. I’m just a little tired. Tell me what’s going on with you. Do you have any internship interviews lined up?”
“A few.”
“Good. Do you have a nice suit to wear to the interviews?”
“I got everything I need.”
“How’s the one girl you were dating when you came home for Christmas?”
“Chauntelle?” I nodded. “She’s good, but we ended things a few months ago. She wants to get married right out of college, and that’s the last thing I want to do.”
“I’m glad you let her know and didn’t lead her on.”
“I liked her a lot, but she was doing too much, too soon. What’s up with you and your roster?”
I almost choked on my wine when he said roster.
“Stokely, I don’t have a roster. Are you serious?”
“Ma, you date multiple men at once. I didn’t know what else to call them.”
“Are you trying to say your mama’s a ho?”
He frowned. “No. Why would you ask that? Are you having sex with all these men?”
“First of all, don’t mind my sex life. Secondly, all what men? I’m seeing three men, that’s it.”
“You’re getting mighty defensive, Ma. What’s going on?”
Stokely and I talked about a lot and were pretty open with each other. Of course, we didn’t discuss every gritty detail, but we valued each other’s thoughts and opinions. I shared parts of my conversation with Nyomi, and he listened without interruption; however, his expression said a lot.
“Auntie Nyomi ain’t wrong, Ma. Knox let you know he was interested. You weren’t, so he moved on, and I don’t blame him.”
“Wow, Son.”
“What did you expect him to do?”
“I don’t know, but I imagined him sitting idly by, waiting for me to come around.”
He laughed until he noticed I wasn’t laughing with him.
“Oh, damn. You’re serious.”
“Not really, but kind of.”
“You’ve been living your best life, and you thought he wouldn’t be doing the same thing. Ma, how many degrees you got?”
“Are you trying to call me dumb without calling me dumb? I will knock you clean across this restaurant.”
“Chill, Ma. That’s not what I was doing . . . Well, not really.”
I lifted my hand and leaned toward him as if I was about to hit him. He flinched, but I put my hand down.
“I’m still your mama, boy. Don’t get too crazy.”
“My bad, Ma. You know I’d never disrespect you, but you gotta be for real. I don’t know why you can’t just admit that you like the man. Add him to your roster, and if you find that you don’t like him, give him the boot.”
“I keep telling your knucklehead ass I don’t have a roster, but if we start dating and it doesn’t work out, it could create some very uncomfortable moments considering he’s my best friend’s brother-in-law.”
He shrugged. “Ya’ll grown and should be able to handle it.”
“We should be able to, but I’m not sure if I can. Once I’m done with a man, I don’t want to see him anymore.”
“What if you get lucky like Auntie Nyomi? Y’all could get married, have a couple of kids, and ride off into the sunset.”
“Where’s our food, because you’re talking crazy now.”
“Am I?” I nodded. “I disagree, but hey, what do I—umm, guess who just walked in?”
Stokely and I were sitting at a small table near the wall, and we both had a good view of the entrance. I looked up and saw Knox with a woman I didn’t recognize, making this the third woman he’d been with in the last two weeks.
“If looks could kill, Knox and ole girl would be dead. You like him, Ma. Just admit it.”
Yeah, I like him, but so what? I thought.
“Look who the cat dragged in,” my father said before wrapping me in a hug.
He was a big man, over six feet and solid as hell. I always felt extra safe in his arms.
“Hey, Daddy,” I said, returning his embrace.
When we released each other, he kissed my forehead and looked me up and down.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because I haven’t seen you in a month of Sundays, and I’m trying to make sure you’re okay.”
“It hasn’t been that long.”
“It sure has,” my mother said as she entered the kitchen.
My parents, Germaine and Sadie Daniels, lived about thirty minutes outside of Black Elm, and I didn’t visit them as often as I used to.
We talked daily, but I knew that wasn’t the same.
These two were my world, and I never wanted them to feel I neglected them or didn’t want to spend time with them, so I needed to do better.
“Hey, Ma,” I greeted, wrapping her in my arms and kissing her cheek.
My mother was exactly five feet, thick as hell, and my father towered over her. He always talked about how much he loved her extra cushion, and to this day, he could hardly keep his hands off her.
“Hey, Skye. What brings you by?”
“Nothing much. It smells good, though, so I came at the right time. What’d you cook?”
“Nothing special, just barbecue chicken and a corn salad. There’s plenty if you’re staying for dinner,” Ma said.
“You don’t have to ask twice.”
A few minutes later, my parents and I were seated at the kitchen table, catching up.
They were both in their early sixties and still working.
My father was a bank manager, and my mother was the director of a nursing home.
I was an only child, and Stokely was their only grandchild.
Since we were both adults, they didn’t see the point of retiring because they enjoyed their jobs.
“How’s Nyomi and the family? I’m sure she’s still adjusting to marriage and motherhood again,” Ma said.
“They’re doing great, and she’s loving every minute of both.”
“Tell Kilo I’m looking forward to this season. I’m praying for at least a repeat of last season or better. I’ve never seen more exciting football,” my dad said.
“I’m sure that’s their goal,” I responded.
“So, what’s been going on with you?” Ma asked.
“Nothing much. Just working.”
“There’s more to life than working. Are you at least dating?” she pressed.
“I am.”
“Anyone serious?” she continued with the questions.
“Not really, but I’m not looking for anything serious.”