Chapter 7 #2
“You’ve never heard of a sleepy girl mocktail?
A little cherry juice, some magnesium, sparkling water over ice, maybe a sprig of rosemary as garnish.
Chef’s kiss.” Danessa stared at me in silence, like I’d sprouted wings.
This was my MO of late, I was sour and then switched to sweet when I realized I’d fucked shit up. “Nessa?”
“No, no.” She wagged her finger at me. “I’ll transfer your file to Anika. You’ll be in good hands.”
“I think you’re blowing this out of proportion.”
“Don’t fucking try to gaslight me. If you’re so unhappy, get someone else to find your persnickety ass a house.” I knew she was pissed because she was pulling out SAT vocabulary words. She backed away, never lowering her silencing finger. Turning, she exited the shop leaving me alone.
Imploding my life was what I was good at.
When things were going well, I’d find a way to ruin it.
This move, a chance at a championship, and seeing Danessa again were all good things.
I think it was a form of survivor’s remorse.
Making it out of North Philadelphia wasn’t possible for everyone.
And now I was looking at houses in the millions of dollars.
I was grateful but questioned whether I was worthy.
“Excuse me, are you Aldridge Mosley?” Correction: I was semi alone with the exception of a fellow shopper.
“Yep.”
“Can I get a picture?”
I’d just had a fight with my realtor ex-girlfriend.
Who, as hard as I tried, no longer found me charming.
I was in a city with zero friends. I had a new job where everyone was calling me the great shining hope while secretly wishing I failed.
And my allergies still thought I was in Kansas City and had not recalibrated for the desert weather.
But let’s squeeze a selfie in. With a deep exhale, I agreed, “Sure.”
“What are you doing?” Nori asked.
She had a key card to my hotel suite and carte blanche to come and go as needed.
This wasn’t the case in Missouri because in Missouri I had a life and friends.
But now that I was in Vegas my phone was strangely dry.
And I had to live vicariously through my friends’ social media, witnessing all the fun times I was missing.
It was Sunday and if I was in Kansas City, I could be taking a quick run with Rhythm and Roots, the local all Black run club.
Instead, I was adding my sneakers to my gym bag so I could workout alone.
“Is that coffee for me?”
“No.”
I strolled up to her while she was still putting her bag down and stole the cup from her hand, taking a long sip. “Thanks, you’re the best assistant ever. Oh, by the way, the realtor you hired quit yesterday.”
Nori frowned. I don’t know if it was because of the theft of her coffee or the news of Danessa severing ties. “What did you do?”
“Me?” I pointed to my chest.
“She quit for a reason.”
“She quit because she’s not a good realtor.” Duh.
Nori eyed me suspiciously. “What’s the story with you two?”
“Excuse me?”
“It was clear at our first meeting with her that you two have history. Did you sleep with her and never call her back?”
“No. I mean yes but I called her back.” I’d gotten very little rest last night and might have sent some late-night texts to Danessa that were inappropriate and ignored by her. “We used to be a couple.”
“When was this? I know every woman you’ve ever dated.” She followed me to the living room, taking a seat.
“No you do not. I don’t tell you everything.”
She pursed her lips at my blatant lie.
Nori was like a big sister. There wasn’t much she wasn’t privy to. She’d witnessed me slowly spiraling downward. Nori suggested I get help and for months I ignored her until one day she found me passed out on the bathroom floor, face down in my own vomit. That was my rock bottom.
“When did you two date?”
“College. We met freshman year and started dating the year after. You know how college is. Everything feels more intense. It was my first time being away from home and living on my own. Danessa was beautiful and smart. She was prelaw and was so passionate about the political system, social injustice, and defending the little guy. Danessa taught me things I never really thought about. We had deep discussions. She loved to debate and present a controversial counterpoint. On the flip side, she was never the life of the party. But she was popular. People wanted to be close to Danessa, and all she wanted was to be next to me.”
Nori gasped. “She’s the one that got away?”
“What? No.” I pushed her words away with a wave.
“Aldridge, it’s all over your face.”
I couldn’t refute that so I pivoted. “This coffee sucks by the way.”
“That’s because it’s mine and not yours. So, why’d Danessa quit?”
“I don’t know. We were in a perfume shop—”
“What does that have to do with showing you houses?”
I snapped my fingers. “That’s exactly what I said. Next thing I know she’s upset and claims I’m not taking shit seriously and that we’re a bad fit.”
“As a couple or as a client?”
“As a client. This had nothing to do with our past.”
“Sounds like you fucked up.” Nori bit into my half-eaten granola bar on the coffee table.
“Excuse you. That’s the conclusion you draw after you hear she blew up at me for no reason?”
“With you there’s always a reason.”
“I resent that.” Grabbing my phone, I pulled up Danessa’s contact and prepared to send her another text message. “I’m going to text her.” As I typed, I spoke the words aloud so Nori could give feedback. “Danessa, this is Aldridge. Stop fucking playing with me and respond to my messages.”
Nori snatched the phone from my hand and deleted my unfinished text. “Have you lost your mind?”
“She’s ignoring me.”
“And I’m sure you deserve it.” Nori shook her head in disbelief. “What did you mean by messages? Have you been texting her?”
“No.” I sounded like the cat who ate the canary.
She scrolled up and read through the thread of unanswered text messages I’d sent in the early hours of the morning.
“You told her she was overreacting and she needed to calm down. A phrase women just love to hear. And then you claimed she was the worst realtor to ever realtor. Those were your exact words. Next, we get to the section when you trip down memory lane. I’ll spare you the details because it’s embarrassing for you.
And lastly you closed it all out by once again insulting her and stating her ears were too big for her head.
And I quote, ‘Proportionately it just doesn’t work.
’” Nori stared at me waiting for answers.
“I stand by the last statement. Because she always had big ears and I just thought eventually she’d grow into them. Adults keep growing well into their twenties but nope, they’re still very pronounced.”
“I’m convinced your frontal lobe hasn’t fully developed. In college I learned your frontal lobe should mature by age twenty-five, but in some cases, it can take longer, up until the age of thirty. So hopefully you make leaps and bounds in the next four years.”
“I will admit that maybe some of those messages were poorly thought out.”
“You called her the Mayor of Fartville.”
A smile crept over my face. “Listen, that’s a high honor.”
“Aldridge!” Nori screamed.
“I was vulnerable and scared. And my father never loved me.” I threw out buzz phrases in an attempt to excuse my behavior.
Nori planted her face into her palm. “So we need to find a new realtor.”
“No, I have a realtor, we just need her to change her mind.”
“Maybe she would’ve before but after your text tirade I’m not so sure.”
“Have you met me? I’m a—”
“Asshole?” Nori interrupted me.
“I was going to say charmer.”
“Your plan is to beg for forgiveness?”
“I’m going to apologize like it’s 2004 and I’m Ruben Studdard.”