Chapter 9 #2
Thumbnail went between my teeth.
I couldn’t control myself.
“What up doe?” he spoke, walking into the living room.
I looked over at him. “Hey.”
Instantly, I sized him up. Not because I wanted to but because I couldn’t help myself.
Exodus was the type of man you looked at.
I mean, truly. Fully. Completely. He was alluring.
Drawing. Magnetic. His aura heavy. Big just like him.
In such a powerful way that despite how much I didn’t want to stare, I did anyway.
He looked down at himself. “What you be lookin at, bro? Something wrong with what I got on?”
“You don’t own an iron?” I asked, pretending there was something wrong.
When in fact, there was absolutely nothing wrong with Exodus.
I wasn’t a dick rider. I didn’t drool over men.
Sometimes I found myself absolutely loathing them.
But Exodus? My God, he was such a perfectly crafted specimen.
Deep, deep dark skin. Waves. Thick beard, nice connecting mustache.
Thin, piercing brown eyes. Full succulent lips.
High cheekbones. Muscles. So many muscles.
Big and tall. He was like a Greek God. No, fuck that.
Greek Gods didn’t come packaged like this.
Exodus was built like an African warrior.
Yes, gawd.
He sucked his teeth. “Put an iron across these bitches this morning. So, I know it’s cap if you sayin a nigga wrinkled.”
I turned my nose up and playfully rolled my eyes but said nothing. He caught me. I couldn’t think of anything else to say. “Whatever.”
“Sweet lady, sweet lady,” he said, addressing First Lady before dropping a kiss on the top of her head.
I thought that was the cutest. The way he spoke to her.
It was the same way every time. Sweet lady, sweet lady.
I could tell they had a close relationship at one point.
I could also tell that despite his tough, positive demeanor, First Lady’s condition bothered him.
Whatever her condition was. They didn’t know.
They as in the family and the doctors. It was just something she’d have to decide to snap out of.
That didn’t stop him from loving on her and treating her like his mother instead of just…
skin and bones. I thought it was beautiful.
That unconditional love. I hadn’t had it since the stuff with my parents.
Often, I wondered if I would ever experience it again.
A couple of times, I wondered if I’d experience unconditional romantic love.
But based off what I saw around me—with my parents especially—I knew that the chances of that ever happening were slim to none.
And that… it bothered me. Hardened my heart more than it already was, honestly.
“You ready?” Exodus asked, shifting those beautiful browns up at me.
Goosebumps covered my skin, sending a chill through my body. A chill that made me hug myself.
I nodded. “Yes, I’m ready.”
He looked away from me, looked at First Lady, and then back at me. This time with a smirk. A slight smile.
“She fly. I thought Genny was overexaggerating,” he said with a pause. “But nah. You got OG together.” His smiled widened. “I tell you how much I appreciate you?”
I joked. “Yes, you tell me every time you come over here and see her dressed up. I know, I know. I’m doing my big one.”
“Your biggest one, angel.”
“Angel?”
“I got a speech impediment I don’t know about?” He shot back, with a squint, scratching at the back of his ear.
I squinted, pursed my lips together and cocked my head to the side. “Okay A-hole. Don’t be calling me no angel.”
“Come on ma, we about to go to the store,” he said, extending his hand to First Lady, ignoring what I’d said.
I didn’t like it. Not for real. I mean… it wasn’t that big of an issue.
It just made me feel… a little… kinda… on a pedestal and I didn’t want to be on one.
I took care of First Lady the way I would have wanted my own mother to be taken care of.
I didn’t take this job lightly—at all. I did it to my fullest potential.
I came into it with zero experience. I literally had to do a good job.
Besides, First Lady… she deserved top notch care.
She was a great woman with confidence, notoriety, and grace—of course I treated her with the utmost respect.
* * *
“I just don’t eat it,” I said with a shrug.
Exodus extended his hand and moved it in a ‘come here’ motion. “Give it here.”
With dipped brows I looked down at it and then back up at him. “Give you what?”
“Your black card,” he said, steady moving his finger in a ‘hand it here’ motion.
I sucked my teeth and laughed. “You so corny.”
Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his shorts, he swaggered around the store, letting me have my way.
I’d only come for seafood pasta ingredients, but the cart was damn near filled to the rim with just about everything I gave a second look.
I was hesitant. Didn’t just… ‘throw it in the bag’.
I wasn’t always afforded that luxury. So, I was still a little hesitant to get the things I wanted.
Sure, I had money. Sure, I could afford it but…
old habits. The struggle was in me, not on me.
After a while though, I felt like it would get up out of me. Adjusting would just take time.
“Can’t believe you don’t eat macaroni and cheese. Fuck you eat pasta but not macaroni?”
I shrugged my shoulder, stood at the shelf of pasta noodles and grabbed a box. “I don’t know. It’s the cheese. It’s all… thick… stringy and… I don’t know. It be bland too.”
“Thick? Stringy? Bland? You just ain’t had the right macaroni and cheese, baby,” he calmly said as if he hadn’t called me baby for the… fifth time today.
I kept track.
The first and second times he said it we were over the phone.
Every time he said it, I did this little squint I couldn’t control.
This time I squinted, glanced at him, and then back at the shelf of pasta, as if I hadn’t already grabbed a box.
I didn’t like what this crush on Exodus did to me.
On one hand, I was a spitfire, quick with my comebacks, boldly flirtatious with my eyes…
but then on the other hand, I was like this…
antsy, shy, doing shit I didn’t need to do.
“Hmm,” I said, finally dropping the elbow noodles into the cart.
“Hmm,” He mocked. “You haven’t though. I’m going to get you together.”
With twisted lips, I looked at him and sucked my teeth. “You can’t cook.”
He drew back, playfully offended. “Who can’t cook? Ma, tell this girl I can cook.”
We both looked to First Lady. She was in the middle of us.
She looked up at Exodus, at me, and then straight ahead, smile on her face, quietly humming a tune I couldn’t make out.
She was in good spirits. But then again, she always was.
However, today, walking around the store…
something about her spirit was lighter. Happier.
Fuller. At ease. The smile never left her face, as she looked around, likely taking in things she could remember. We had to do this more often.
“I know you saw the twinkle in her eye. The way her mouth moved a little,” Exodus kidded. “That was a yes.”
I giggled. “Yeah okay.”
“You’ll see,” he continued.
I shrugged my right shoulder. “I guess we will see.” Glancing at him, I said, “I thought you were lactose intolerant.”
He laughed. “I am. When it comes to mac, I don’t be givin’ a fuck tho’.”
We spent a good hour in the store. By the time I was done shopping, Exodus was pushing a second cart.
One filled with household items, and clothes for me.
Basic shit like t-shirts, socks, pajamas.
For some reason he got a kick out of me getting pajamas.
Initially, I got offended. Thought he was making fun of my Mickey Mouse and Winnie the Pooh sets, but he wasn’t.
When he noticed my mood switch he didn’t ask what was wrong.
Didn’t accuse me of being soft or anyting like that.
He just said he thought it was cool that I wore pajamas.
What was cool about me wearing pajamas? I was sure his bitch did.
But… I didn’t mention it. Just blushed like a little girl and placed my hair behind my ear.
When we made it back to the house, he helped me put everything away.
And when we were finished, I expected him to leave.
Especially since he’d gotten a ton of calls when we were out.
But he didn’t. Exodus helped me get First Lady ready for bed.
While he bathed her, I set her hair rollers out on the vanity, prepared some nighttime tea, and waited.
After about fifteen minutes, First Lady was clothed in a blush pink pajama set, joining me in the bedroom.
I stood up from the vanity and motioned for her to have a seat.
When she did, she delicately placed her hands in her lap and stared straight ahead at the mirror.
A soft smile graced her lips. Just for a second.
I glanced at Exodus, wondering if he’d caught it but he was watching me.
My eyebrows furrowed a bit and I looked away.
“What?” I asked, reaching over for a roller.
In the mirror, I watched as he sat in the big chair in the corner of the room, stretched out, thick thighs begging me to sit on them. “What, what?”
“You were looking at me.”
“I can’t look at you?”
“Not like that.”
“Not like what?”
“Like…” I glanced over at him again. My heart fluttered.
Skipped a beat. Could have been palpations, but something in me said it was him.
Exodus’s stare was pensive. Piercing. Magnetizing.
But… at the same time… soft. I didn’t feel intimidated.
I felt… desired. No, not desired. The look, it wasn’t sexy.
Didn’t have anything behind it but softness.
I felt… cared for. Like he gave a damn about me.
And that made me a little uncomfortable.