8. Drew
THREE DAYS LATER
I had just finished setting up my gym equipment when the doorbell rang. I cleaned my hands and jogged upstairs to answer the door. I was surprised to find Pretty standing on my porch with covered dishes.
“Hey. What’s this?” I asked with a smile as my stomach growled. The smells emanating from her dishes were delicious, and I realized I hadn’t eaten since breakfast almost ten hours earlier.
I spent most of my day unpacking and organizing my bedroom and gym the way that I wanted them. I would eventually get to the other rooms, but they would have to wait until after I tackled the kitchen—the next day.
“I’ve got lamb chops with a cognac Dijon cream sauce, garlic mashed potatoes, and green beans almondine.”
“The woman not only paints amazing pictures, but she cooks too. Are you even real?” I teased.
She smiled and replied, “I just wanted to prove that I could be a good neighbor too. Besides, I saw that you had more furniture delivered this morning. I figured you might be too busy to cook. Isn’t that what good neighbors do?”
I opened the door wider, and she stepped inside.
“You’re just going hard with this neighbor thing, huh?” I asked as she passed me and headed straight to the kitchen.
Pretty placed the food on the counter and turned to me. “That’s what we are.”
“Well, neighbor. Would you care to join me for a meal?”
She angled her head as though she was considering it. Just when I thought she might turn me down, she bobbed her head. “I’d love to,” she replied softly. I wondered where the hesitation stemmed from.
“Cool. Can you grab the plates from that cabinet over there? I’ve got some white wine that might pair well with this.” I pointed her to the cabinet in question, and I grabbed the wine, the wineglasses, and a corkscrew.
She plated our meals as I set our wine and wineglasses at the dining table. We returned to the kitchen and washed our hands before we sat down at the table. After she prayed over our meal, I immediately tucked into it to appease my growling stomach.
“Is this a French dish?” I asked after several seconds.
“It is.”
“How’d you learn how to cook like this?”
“My mom. She insisted that all her children learn how to cook. She learned early on how to cook French meals for my dad—and she passed that skill on to us.”
“She did an excellent job. This is restaurant quality.”
“Thank you,” she replied shyly.
“Thank you for being thoughtful enough to do this for me. I’d planned to order pizza again tonight. That’s mostly what I’ve been eating since I moved in. Well, that and wings, burgers, and fries.”
“Do you like eating like that?”
“Not really. It’s convenient; I’m a steak and potatoes man.”
“Typical guy.”
I chuckled. “Nah, I like other things.”
“Like?”
“Ribs, Thai food, shortbread cookies, and red velvet cake.”
She laughed. “I guess you have a little culture—throwing in Thai food like that. Boy, please.”
“What? I’m guessing your palate is more cultured.”
“Absolutely.”
“Well growing up with a French father and an English mother, I guess so.”
She chewed on the tines of her fork as she watched me thoughtfully.
“What?” I asked.
“Wondering if I can trust you with my truth.”
“Which is?”
“Promise not to laugh?”
“I promise.”
“Okay, so I love French, Caribbean, and Mexican foods—but my favorite meal is a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. My guilty pleasure is chocolate chip cookies.”
“Get outta here!”
“Seriously. No lie.”
“I don’t want your cultured ass teasing me anymore.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“PB and J isn’t even a meal. It’s a snack.”
“It has a fruit, a grain, and a protein—that’s a full meal. Jelly is the fruit, peanut butter is the protein, and the bread is the grain. There!” she explained triumphantly.
“You tried it.”
She snickered and I laughed. “On another note, I would like to invite you to an old-school R all credit goes to my dad for that. He loves R and B the most.”
“That’s wassup. My range goes from hip-hop to jazz and that’s about it.”
“So, no R and B concert, huh?”
I took note of the disappointed look on her face, and I vowed that I would never do that again.
She deserved to smile all the time. “That’s not what I’m saying.
I’m cool with the concert. I grew up on R and B because of my parents.
Hip-hop is my preference, and I learned to listen to jazz from one of my football coaches.
He used it as a medium when he tried to get me to calm my energy down and learn to meditate.
I struggled with ADHD early on, and that was a tool he thought would prove useful for me. ”
“And did it?”
“Yeah. I still use it for the same purpose, but sometimes, I just love listening to jazz. R and B brings back good memories from my childhood. So, who’s going to be at the concert?”
“Keith Washington, Freddie Jackson, Kenny Lattimore, Karyn White, Jody Watley, and Miki Howard.”
“That’s an impressive lineup. My folks would love that. Need to see if I can cop them some tickets to go too.”
“I can get them for you. You want to double date with your parents?” she teased.
“Look at you working your way up to becoming my woman.”
She choked on her food, and her eyes watered. “What?” she asked when she calmed down.
“I’m teasing, chill. It’s all about the whole bringing a girl home to meet your parents thing.
I like my parents well enough, but taking them with us would mean dozens of questions for you.
My mom is definitely gonna play matchmaker, and if you’re on this neighbor stuff, you might not want to take that risk. ”
“On second thought, I’ll get them separate tickets.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, I thought so.”
“I know from the weekend that we spent together that you like to travel, attend live sporting events, and reading, but what else do you like?”
“Watching action movies and sports, hanging out with family and friends, checking out things around town. I like to explore my town, even if I’ve lived there forever. I think experiences and encounters always reveal something you didn’t see before.”
“I like that, and I can see that. It teaches a deep appreciation for life, mankind, and community, as well as help us not take so much for granted. I used to love hanging with friends, but I’ve become a recluse in these last few years.
I’d say I like hanging with my family, fighting for causes that are close to my heart like keeping good art programs in schools, and having stimulating conversations like the ones you and I have. ”
“You don’t get to gloss over that.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied, overly focused on cutting her lamb chop.
“Why don’t you hang with your friends anymore? What happened? Broken relationships?”
“No. Nothing like that. I’ve just been through some things.”
The finality of her tone let me know that she didn’t want to discuss it. I wasn’t about to push her, but I hoped in time she would open up.
“I can understand that. They say what doesn’t break us builds us stronger; I’m not so sure that’s always true. What do you do when you’re not traveling, visiting art galleries, and reading?”
Her eyes lit up, and she smiled. “You remembered those things I told you.”
“Why do you sound surprised? You remembered what I told you.”
“I guess I didn’t realize that I made a deep impression on you the way you made on me.”
“You definitely left your impression on me, girl.”
She blushed but quickly returned the subject to my original statement.
“I’m a Lifetime Movie girl. Somewhere deep down, I love mystery, drama, and sappy romance, so I usually like cuddling with a warm, thick blanket, a soft pillow, light some candles, and a mug of tea to watch a good movie on the channel. ”
“That’s wassup. Now, because you’re working on becoming my woman, tell me what I need to do to make sure that I don’t get on your bad side.”
She giggled and pointed her fork at me. “You just don’t quit, do you?”
“You won’t let me,” I replied, winking.
“Mm. Okay, what I don’t like is when people place limitations on me.
Just because you restrict yourself with your limited beliefs and insecurities, don’t try to place me in your box I won’t fit.
I believe the sky’s the limit, and I know that my Almighty God placed me without limits, because there’s no limit what He can do through and for me. ”
“Preach, preacher!”
She smiled a warm smile that lit my heart and made me want to see it a thousand times over.
“I also don’t like broken promises. If you can’t come through, say I’ll try, or we’ll see, but don’t promise me things you can’t uphold.
If you promise, you’d better work your ass off to make sure you can complete it—excuses are unacceptable.
Anything dull or boring, you can count me out.
I won’t apologize. I’ll just extricate myself and find a better use of my time. ”
“Why is that?”
“Life is too short. I don’t live for the flesh, but I do want to make the most use of my time on Earth before it’s all over.
Life lived to the fullest—no regrets. That’s my mantra.
Also, I used to say that I didn’t like being lonely, but being alone the last few years has taught me so much about myself that I didn’t know before. I know what I will or won’t tolerate.”
“Yeah, I don’t like being alone. I guess because I’ve always been surrounded by large groups of people.
Sometimes, I’m cool with it so I can process my thoughts, but not for long.
I also don’t like being confined in small spaces.
It takes away my feeling of freedom. Kind of like how you feel about being bored, I don’t like repetition and routine.
I need to change things up from time to time, keep it interesting. ”
“Does that create a lack of discipline in your life?”
“Not at all. I hold myself accountable for all the things that I need to do, but I like being challenged. I think it’s important to know yourself. That way you know how to withstand the challenges and tests in life.”
“Sometimes those tests can break you. Over the last few years, I expected to be broken several times over, but I’ve survived.”
“And you’ll continue to survive. Stay strong and keep your head up, beautiful.”
She had mentioned again something that had changed in her life the last few years. It was hard, but again, I didn’t press her on the issue. I knew that in time, I would break her walls down and find out what hurt her so deeply, and I prayed that I could be the man to wash away her pain.