Single black female, p.16
Single Black Female, page 16
She was calling to tell him that she was stranded at her dance studio. The whole thing was a lie, part of a carefully crafted plan Bree had devised to get his attention. She and Kingston had been texting each other more often. They were still in the friend zone. But he was beginning to open up to her more. He told her that he was planning to hang out with Mariah that afternoon, and Bree started thinking of a way to interrupt that.
Today, Rashid was supposed to pick Bree up from her dance class, but she had called and told him that her class was canceled.
“You don’t have to pick me up after all,” she had told her father.
Rashid, toiling on a worksite in Queens, had said okay and hadn’t questioned it further.
Satisfied, Bree had called Kingston instead. “I’m stuck here. My mother’s showing a property, and Dad’s on assignment,” she’d explained. “I can get an Uber if it’s too much trouble.”
But Bree was his homegirl. Kingston couldn’t leave her out there like that. So, he’d told her he was on his way, wrapped up his wonderful afternoon with Mariah, and was now headed to Bree’s dance school in New Dorp. He merged into traffic on the highway and thought back to a few nights ago at his house when Bree had met Mariah for the first time. As promised, she’d sized her up, offering Kingston her opinion of his love interest after their little party was over.
“She’s pretty,” Bree had said. “She just doesn’t have any depth.”
King had laughed it off. Bree was the same age he was, but she was definitely not as experienced. She didn’t smoke weed, didn’t drink. Still, despite her reputation as a good girl, there was something about Bree that had him seeing her in a different light lately.
He pulled up in front of the dance studio and found her standing outside talking to a Hispanic girl and a white lady. When Bree saw him pull up, she smiled. She said goodbye to her friend and the older woman, and walked toward the car, gripping a pink Nike duffle bag in her hand. She got in the car and greeted him with a fist bump.
“I would hug you like usual, but I smell kinda funky right now,” she said. “Miss Linda rode us hard today.”
“Pause.” He laughed as he put the car in drive and pulled off. “‘Rode us hard’? I bet your parents don’t know that’s the type of shit that’s going on at your dance school.”
She laughed so hard that her abs hurt even more than they already did. She winced, still laughing, and punched him playfully on the arm.
“You’re nasty. Get your mind out the gutter.” She shook her head and looked away so that he wouldn’t see how hard she was smiling. “What took you so long?”
He sucked his teeth and looked at her sidelong. “You’re lucky I came to get you at all. I was about to get the panties today. Mariah couldn’t keep her hands off me!” King looked out the window wistfully.
Bree’s eyes narrowed. “Mmm-hmm. Good thing I called you when I did.”
He looked at her, surprised. “What type of shit is that? Don’t be a hater.”
Bree shook her head. “You’re so stupid, King. What did I tell you about that girl? She has no depth. You gonna mess around and get some silly dumb girl pregnant. Messing up all that melanin in your bloodline with her pale ass.”
His reaction was priceless. King didn’t know whether to laugh or be pissed. The result was a frustrated flutter of his lips, followed by a smirk and then a frown. Bree had to resist the urge to giggle.
“First of all,” he said, “I’m tired of you talking about me getting somebody pregnant. Like I ain’t smart enough to put a condom on before I slide up in something. I ain’t stupid, Bree. Just ’cause I play sports don’t mean I’m dumb.”
She allowed him that and chose not to respond.
“Second of all,” he continued, “why you worried about it?”
She shrugged. “Hate to see you fuck up a good thing. That’s all. You’re going somewhere in life, with or without getting in Mariah’s panties. Just don’t let her get you trapped. You have way too much to lose.” Bree looked at him as she said it, daring him to disagree.
Again, he looked at her sidelong. “Okay. You have a point.”
Bree looked out the passenger window, done arguing for now.
“What’s up with you and your father?” he asked. “Rashid, I mean. How’s that going, getting to know him?”
She sighed. “It’s weird, you know? It’s nice. We talk all the time. He texts me every morning, every night before bed, all through the day. He’s really trying to make up for lost time. And I love talking to him. He’s so cool, mad down to earth.”
Bree was smiling as she said all this. Then her smile slowly began to fade.
“He wants me to call him ‘Dad.’ I do when it’s just me and him. But I don’t know what to do or say in front of my parents. I don’t know how my mother feels about the situation, honestly. Since he came back, she walks around like she’s in some kinda fog. But my dad—Bobby—he raised me. Until a few weeks ago, he was the only father I knew. So, as happy as I am that I’m getting to know my biological father, I feel like I’m betraying the man who raised me.”
Kingston nodded. “All that shit sounds wild to me,” he admitted. “Both of our fathers have been locked up our whole lives. But your mother got married, and mine stayed single. Until now. All of a sudden, she’s dating again. I don’t like that shit at all.”
He shook his head, thinking of the mechanic he and Noah had unwittingly introduced her to.
Bree frowned. “Why don’t you like it? What’s wrong with Miss Ivy dating? She still looks good.”
Kingston scoffed. “She’s been riding it out with my dad all this time. Why stop now?”
“Because life is short,” Bree said. “She should be happy, too.”
“My dad was making her happy all this time. Shit don’t need to change now.”
Bree looked at him oddly. “Your mother is a grown woman. She can make her own decisions.”
“What if she makes the wrong one? We don’t know this man from Adam. He could be a serial killer for all I know.”
“He’s Black, ain’t he?” Bree scoffed, an outraged expression on her face. “Black people don’t do that.”
Kingston laughed.
“How did she meet him?”
He told her the story about meeting him at the mechanic shop the night of their impromptu party.
“He used to play ball at my school. Coach told me all about him,” Kingston said.
Bree threw up her arms. “So, he’s not a stranger at all. If your coach says he’s all right, you should trust him.”
Kingston shrugged. “I think I don’t like it because it makes me feel kinda the same way you feel. If she gets serious with a new nigga and I accept it, that’s like I’m betraying my father.”
She thought about it. “See? I knew you would understand. You’re the only one I can talk to about things like this. And the little silly girls you like can’t get this deep with you. So, you should stop wasting your time with them.”
He looked at her while they were stopped at a red light. Saw her with new eyes, really. She was pretty. He had always thought so. But this was his “little sis.” Wasn’t she? Beyoncé’s voice came on the airwaves singing about taking the top off a Maybach. Bree sang along, and he grinned, thinking maybe it was time to take shorty out of the friend zone.
The light turned green, and he drove on. He glanced at her again.
“You got a boyfriend at your little private school?”
Bree stopped singing and looked at him.
“Nope,” she said firmly. “I’m still waiting for your friend Kevin to ask me out.”
He sucked his teeth. “I told you, that shit ain’t happening.”
“Why not? It’s not like you’re gonna ask me out.”
Bree’s heart was beating so fast that she gripped the car door for strength.
King’s eyes were wide with surprise. “I’m wasting my time?”
They arrived at her house, and he almost wished she lived farther away. The conversation was just getting good.
“Okay, so, what’s up?” he said, smirking and licking his lips in his best mack daddy impersonation. “Shoot your shot, Bree.”
She laughed, thinking he was teasing her, and started to get out of the car. But he protested.
“Nah! Come on. It sounds like you got something to say. Let me hear it.”
She sighed, nervous energy coursing through every molecule in her body.
* * *
Bobby stood at the window and called Deja’s name. She joined him, and they peered through the glass, watching Bree sitting in the passenger seat of Noah’s BMW and talking to Kingston.
“What’s this about?” Bobby asked, looking at Deja like she held the answers. “I thought Rashid was picking her up.”
Deja shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know,” she said. “I thought so, too.”
“So, he’s already letting her down?” He walked away from the window, disgusted. “It’s his third time picking her up from dance class and he dropped the ball. Just like I told you he would.”
Bobby wanted Rashid gone. Wanted his life with Deja and Bree to go back to normal. He had always known, of course, that Bree’s father was a convict. He had never felt sympathy for those types. His own father had gone to jail, abandoning him and his brother as kids. It made him crave the stability and structure of a normal family. Made him develop a love for law and order. It had shaped him into the man Deja had fallen in love with, one who would protect her and provide for her and her child. Lately, though, it felt like Deja and Bree no longer needed him. He blamed Rashid for it. But the truth was, he had felt it all slipping from his grasp long ago.
Deja rolled her eyes. Rashid was all Bobby could talk about the past few days. He kept stressing how opposed he was to Rashid spending time alone with Bree, bringing her around his family. He was like a man obsessed.
“I’ll call Rashid and find out what happened,” she offered weakly.
Bobby leaned on the counter. “What about her hanging around with this kid?”
Deja frowned, glancing out the window to be sure she was understanding him right. “‘This kid’? You mean King?”
Bobby nodded.
“You act like you don’t know him. We watched King grow up. Ivy’s our friend. What’s the problem?”
Bobby scoffed. “You approve of Bree hanging out with him?”
Deja felt like she was in an alternate universe. “Bobby … why wouldn’t I approve? Kingston is a good kid.”
“Is he?” Bobby scoffed. “We just pulled up on him having a house party with a bunch of druggies and gang members the other night, and he’s a good kid?”
Deja laughed maniacally, sure now that her husband had lost his mind. “They’re kids! That’s normal teenage shit. You’re overreacting.”
He stared at Deja, disappointed by her passivity. “Kingston’s father is a drug dealer,” he said. “Doing time in prison for killing somebody. Kingston himself is hanging around with a questionable crowd. I don’t want Bree hanging out with him.”
Deja’s blood was boiling. She glared at him defiantly. “I don’t really care what you want. Leave Bree alone about it.”
“You’re starting to act real strange, Deja. All of a sudden, it’s like I don’t know you anymore.”
“What’s this really about, Bobby? You’ve been walking around here with an attitude ever since Rashid came back.”
Bobby’s instinct was to react defensively. His body language showed it when he looked away in disgust. Then, he thought about the tension in the house since Rashid had set foot in there days ago. Even after he’d left, his presence seemed to linger. Deja, Bobby, and Bree were walking on eggshells around one another. Even he had to admit it.
He looked at her. “I don’t like this shit,” he said truthfully. “None of it. I don’t like Rashid stepping back on the scene like he has a right to disrupt her life—our lives—without warning. I don’t like Bree spending time with this kid who seems like he’s headed down the same path as his father—same path as Rashid—while you sit by like nothing’s wrong with that shit.”
Deja breathed deeply as Bobby continued his rant.
“And I don’t like the way you seem distant since Rashid came back. Since before he came back, really. When’s the last time we had sex?”
She laughed. “Bobby, seriously. That’s what’s on your mind right now?”
“A lot of shit is on my mind. Mainly the fact that you’ve been distant lately. Like you’re starting to question every decision you made over the past sixteen years. Including being with me.”
She walked to the refrigerator and opened it, unable to face him. She pulled out a juice container, her hands trembling.
“I hear you,” was all she could manage.
“That’s it?”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.” She was weary. “I think you’re blowing this out of proportion. If I’ve been distant lately, it’s because I’m worried about Bree. Let’s just wait for her to come in the house and find out what happened. How’s that?”
“Not good enough,” he pressed her. “I want to know what’s going on with you, Deja. Speak up! I know you’ve been calling him. I get the phone logs. Ten minutes here. Thirty minutes there. The other day, you talked to him for an hour. I’m walking around here waiting for you to stop bullshitting. What the fuck is going on?”
She lost it then. “You know what, Bobby? I’m calling Rashid and sneaking around and shit because I’m bored! With you, with my life, with all of this. And it has nothing to do with Rashid. Or maybe it does. Maybe I’m starting to feel like the fraud he keeps saying I am.”
Bobby was pissed. “You are a fraud! Wasting my time all these years pretending to be in love with me. All the while you just loved the stability I provided. Now you resent me for it. You’re bored. Get the fuck out of here.”
“It’s the reason I keep arguing with my sister. Criticizing her all the time. It’s because I’m jealous of her.”
“What are you talking about?”
“This person I’ve become … it’s not the real me. Nikki’s right.”
Bobby groaned. Not Nikki again.
“She been saying for years that I’ve been faking it. Living a lie. And she’s right. I’m not in love anymore. Not with you or with this house, this life. I need a break.”
She looked at her husband and saw the stunned look on his face.
“You asked why I’ve been in a funk lately. Well, that’s why.”
* * *
Bree shifted her weight in the passenger seat of the car and faced Kingston bravely.
“I like you, King,” she admitted. “You’re dope. So am I. It’s a no-brainer. You should be spending more time with me than with them silly girls you like.” She shrugged. “That’s me shooting my shot.”
He laughed, his mind reeling. This was all so unexpected, and he felt so flattered. His smile wide, he saw that Bree was staring back at him deadpanned.
He tried to get serious. “Okay,” he said, smiling. “You wanna pull up with me to my basketball team’s awards dinner in two weeks?”
Until this moment, he’d had every intention of asking Mariah to go with him. But there was something about the way the light was catching Bree as the sun set over their neighborhood, the way her lip gloss sparkled in that light and how her eyes twinkled when she smiled. Maybe she was right, and he had been missing out on a good thing right under his nose.
She smiled, wide and unashamed. She nodded. “Yeah. I’ll go with you. Text me the details.” She opened the car door and paused. “Thanks for picking me up. Good talk.”
She winked at him and climbed out of the car, her heart pounding like a racehorse’s hooves. She prayed that he didn’t notice her nervousness as she shut the car door.
Kingston watched her walk to her door and waved to her as she went into the house. She waved back, her heart pounding.
Beaming, Bree was immediately greeted by her stepdad.
Bobby was frowning. “What’s Kingston doing dropping you off? What happened to Rashid?”
Deja emerged from the kitchen, looking concerned.
Bree looked at both of her parents and shrugged. “He got stuck at work and couldn’t make it,” she lied. “So, I called King.”
Bobby’s frown deepened. “Why didn’t you call me? Or your mother?”
“I was going to,” Bree lied. “But then King called me and asked what I was doing. I told him where I was, and he came and got me.”
“Rashid was supposed to come and get you,” Bobby countered angrily.
“Bobby, calm down.”
Deja’s voice was low and steady. She looked at Bree, smiled weakly, then returned her attention to her husband. “Let her explain. She just got in the door.”
Bree sensed the tension in the air. “Like I said. He called and said that he was stuck at a construction site and he couldn’t make it in time to pick me up. So, I was about to call one of you. But then King called me. So, he picked me up instead. It was no big deal.”
“It’s a big deal because Rashid didn’t call to tell us that the plans changed. He shouldn’t be calling you directly.”
Deja scoffed. “Why not? He’s her father, Bobby!”
The words were out of her mouth before she had time to think about it. It hadn’t occurred to her that they would cut so deeply.
Bobby looked like he had been slapped.
Bree stood, helplessly, immediately regretting her decision to involve her parents in her lie. All she’d wanted was to get King’s attention. This was going too far.
“And what am I, Deja?”
“He has a right to talk to her. That’s all I’m saying.”
Deja walked away. She stepped down into their living room and sat on the couch. She wasn’t surprised when Bobby followed her, but she groaned anyway.
“Call him right now,” Bobby demanded. “I want to talk to him. He’s a grown-ass man. He should have called us like a grown man instead of calling a child to say that he couldn’t handle his responsibility.”
