Chapter 4 #4
Ezekiel grinned. “Coincidence, I promise.”
“Why do I have a feeling your promises aren’t worth much?”
“They usually are.”
I was nice enough not to roll my eyes. That’s what they all swore. “So, how old are you?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“Old man,” I teased.
Ezekiel paused, studying me with worry. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-five, I’ll be twenty-six in October.”
He blew out a sigh of relief. “Had me worried for a minute there.”
I liked that he cared about that kind of thing.
Ezekiel stared at my chest and when I thought he was being lascivious, he took a sip of his wine and met my gaze. “So, which is it, the movie or the song?”
He was speaking about my Under the Cherry Moon tattoo. “Both? I’m a reluctant hopeless romantic, and I really like the idea of the song, about dying if you can’t live or love the right person.”
Ezekiel drank this in and bobbed his head. “And the movie?”
“Realistic.” When he popped an eyebrow at that, I went on. “Love doesn’t seem to work out most times in real life, so it felt fitting.”
“You never know.”
“You a romantic?” I questioned.
Ezekiel shook his head. “Nah, definitely not. My folks have been married for thirty years. My pops real loyal with it, he never stepped out, he remembers things about my mother, and makes her really happy. They the type that only have a love built for two, but when I came along they doted on me. As soon as I left the crib, though, shit resumed. I know it’s a lot of broken hearts out here, but I look at them and know that love and all that is possible. ”
“That’s sweet,” I said. My parents were practical and mechanical. It was hard to believe they’d ever been happy and fun like they claimed.
I took my phone out of my clutch and checked the time. It had only been a little over half an hour. Paisley would kill me if I told her I wanted to leave.
“Got somewhere to be?” Ezekiel asked.
I felt lame for admitting the truth. “I usually am a homebody. I’d rather stay in and watch TV and hang out with my cat. Judge away.”
Intrigue lit up Ezekiel’s face. “You have a cat?”
“Yeah,” I said defensively.
He raised a hand in a placating motion. “Nah, it’s cool. I have a cat, too.”
Okay, that was unexpected. “Really?”
Ezekiel laughed at my surprise. “Trust me, it was definitely spur of the moment.”
“That’s how it was for me and Scorsese. I noticed a nest of kittens by my house one day and that night it was storming really bad and I got scared. It turned out to be a blessing, though. He’s the best.” I gathered my phone to find a picture, and then I cringed at the action. “Oh God.”
“What?”
“Are we really at a club talking about cats right now?”
Ezekiel wasn’t fazed. “I’m sure stranger conversations have happened here.” To prove that he wasn’t bored by my turn of conversation, he grabbed his own phone and pulled up a picture of a beautiful tuxedo cat. “She just turned four. Her name Sadé.”
“She’s so pretty,” I admired. I showed him a photo of Scorsese. “Scor’s going to be four in September.”
Ezekiel took and studied my photo, smiling at my little pride and joy. “Scorsese, huh? Must be a big fan.”
“Oh yeah, I’m really into movies. I run a movie blog. He’s probably my favorite director of all time,” I said. “Are you a big Sade fan?”
Ezekiel appeared thoughtful, glancing up at the starry night sky beyond the string of lights.
“That’s the thing, I live in this condo alone and I used to want to get a dog.
One day I saw a commercial about adopting in Atlanta, and there was this cute little Border Collie puppy I saw.
I drove here to just browse and think about it, and I don’t know how, but somehow I saw a volunteer at the center holding a newborn kitten and it caught my eye. ”
He softened up at the mention of kittens and puppies, making me warm up to him more.
“I was still debating, but when I picked her up and held her in my arms Sade was on the radio. It just felt like kismet,” Ezekiel confessed. “Plus, she was a cute kitten.”
I could tell by the rhinestone collar around her neck that Ezekiel treated his cat like a princess. He said he lived alone, but that was four years ago.
“Do you have any kids?” I chanced asking.
“Besides Shah?” I loved that he called his cat his child. “Nope.”
Points for that. “Scorsese’s my only baby, too. I kinda want one more boy, though.”
“And to which director do we have the pleasure of honoring?” Ezekiel wondered.
I smiled. “Rodriguez.”
“Robert?”
“Yeah.”
“Grossly underrated. But, since you have Scorsese, why not Coppola?”
I shrunk, feeling exposed. “I still need to watch The Godfather trilogy.”
Ezekiel scrunched up his face and scooted away from me. “Never seen ’em?”
I hung my head in mock shame. “I know, I know, I’m missin’ out.”
“We gotta fix that. Can’t like Scorsese without Coppola.”
“So I’ve been told.” The Godfather trilogy had been on my To-Watch list for years, and I really needed to get to them.
“You ever seen Shawshank?” Ezekiel wondered.
I bit my lip, prepared for battle. “I have.”
“Good, right?”
“Y-yes.”
“Why the hesitation?”
I sat up straight, facing him and squaring my shoulders to stand my ground. “The Shawshank Redemption is a good movie, but I honestly think Life is the better wrongful imprisonment film.”
Ezekiel blinked, his brows pushing together as his forehead adopted a crease. “Life? With Eddie Murphy and Martin Lawrence?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
He scratched at his neck. “You’re serious?”
“Shawshank has a good story, cast, and friendship, but Life is more poignant, especially when you see them start losin’ friends and the twist.”
“It’s…a comedy,” Ezekiel pointed out.
“I know, but it’s just deeper for me.”
“Shawshank has the message of hope, and shows the effects of long-term imprisonment, and what it’s like to be institutionalized,” he pushed further, practically pleading with me.
“I know. I know. But if I had to choose…”
For a moment Ezekiel just stared at me, quietly. And then he gathered his wineglass and lifted it eye level, perplexity masking his handsome features as he stared into the yellowish liquid.
“What? What are you thinking?” I asked.
Ezekiel peered back at me. Soon, he leaned over and snatched my beer. “I think you’re drunk.”
The gesture made me laugh, loudly and hard, and Ezekiel was quick to join in.
Warmth spread through me. For the first time, I felt relaxed and comfortable with a man.
With a smile on his face, exposing those adorable dimples, Ezekiel loosened up and nudged me as he returned my beer. “All right, what’s your favorite Scorsese movie?”
I didn’t have to think on that one. “Easy, Taxi Driver, yours?”
“Mean Streets.”
I couldn’t hide I was surprised he knew that one. “God, that De Niro and Scorsese duo can never be wrong. Robert was so good in that. Especially that dance he was doing.”
Ezekiel chuckled, smiling that handsome smile. “Yeah, but Keitel was amazing, too—he’s always amazing. Did you know one idea for the movie was to make it an all-Black film, since Blaxploitation was a big thing back then?”
I tried to imagine Mean Streets as a Black film about young men in a New York neighborhood. “I could see it, but I think it works as is, too.”
“Definitely. My second favorite Scorsese flick would be Casino.”
Another nod to the Scorsese and De Niro dream team. “I really loved all those suits Robert was wearing.”
Ezekiel bobbed his head. “Yeah, shit was clean. Pesci plays gangster well, but I like how Rob was just about his paper and trying to be legit.”
“Made me wish I was a hustler.”
“You are,” Ezekiel noted.
“Yeah?”
“Life’s a gamble, we’re all just hustlin’ to win.”
It was a thought-provoking take. One I couldn’t exactly disagree with. I’d gambled my future when I left school and I was just now making a comfortable lane for myself.
“So, is everything a game to you?” I wondered.
“Kind of,” Ezekiel said.
“When do you settle down?”
“I guess I just haven’t found the reason to stop playing.” He looked at me as I looked at him, and I wasn’t sure if this was a game or not to him.
So, I got back to Robert De Niro. “Anyway, Casino was good. At this point I like Robert so much it doesn’t matter if he’s playing a hero or villain, I’m rooting for him.”
Ezekiel chuckled. “Oh word, he’s playing a murderer? Nah, that’s okay, everybody don’t need to live anyway.”
I laughed, almost spilling my drink. “Exactly.” A couple of movies came to mind where even if his acting was incredible, his characters were still hard to root for. “He was amazing in Raging Bull, but I just hated the way he treated his wife.”
Ezekiel was quick to agree, a grave and serious expression on his face. “Oh yeah, Rob was great in that, but the way he and Pesci treated women was rough.”
“Yeah?” I prompted, curious to hear his opinion.
I could tell then he wasn’t putting on for me, the look on his face hadn’t dropped, but deepened.
He was disgusted by the domestic abuse. “Yeah. I mean, my pops never talks to my mom like he’s stupid—and I wouldn’t let him.
On principle, I don’t talk to women like I’m stupid or raise my hand to them, I wouldn’t let myself.
” He leaned over, rubbing a hand behind his neck.
“My pops could be tough as shit on me, but he was always a saint to my mom. He’s got her on a pedestal, and I learned from that, I really did. ”
My parents weren’t toxic, they’d argue here and there growing up, but my father never called my mother out of her name or hit her. He wasn’t a complete wuss when it came to her, and vice versa, either. Neither were afraid to point out a mistake the other had made.
They said girls often grew up wanting to marry men like their fathers, and in a way, I’d ventured far from that.
Corey wasn’t a thing like my father, in both good and bad ways.
He was mean and callous with me, when my father would never be to my mother, and he was expressive and fun, when it seemed like my father was too straitlaced.