“Uh-huh. You’re dating now?”
“Now? You’re assuming I haven’t dated before now?”
He looked stricken as he replied, “Nah…I mean, I’m just saying.”
“You’re just saying what, Ford?”
Squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin a bit, he asked, “Where was LaDarius?”
With a wrinkled brow, I returned, “Where was he when?”
“When you were on your…date?”
“Here. Where else would he be?”
“Alone? Just running around and shit?”
“No! In that expensive-ass cage with all the amenities any iguana could want!”
“How often you be leaving him alone like that? Do we need to discuss joint custody, because if you can’t care for him properly…”
“Are you for real right now?”
“Insanely for real. This dude been around my son? Does he smoke? You know LaDarius had that respiratory infection that time.”
Now I was up in his face, shorter than him in my bare feet. This whole scene reminded me of us as kids, always arguing over dumb shit. “All this because you saw me out on a date? What? You thought no one else would want me? Surprised someone does?”
He blinked, his eyes softening, his voice quiet as he said, “No, I never thought that. I thought and think the opposite. I think any man would want you, Chicken—I mean, Krystle. I just…I hoped…I…I gotta go.” He stood there staring into my eyes, at my lips, and I stared right back. How was it that something so right could end up going so wrong?
“Yeah, I should go. Uh…later,” he repeated, and then he left.
As per usual, I stood stuck to the floor for several minutes before I managed to move on with my day.
Seven
Ford
Then…
“Thank you so much, Miss Inez. I’m hoping I can come back and get her in the morning. I don’t know what’s going on with David. He never gets sick!” Krystle’s mom said. She was trying to whisper, but I could hear her from where I stood in my bedroom doorway. She looked upset, really upset, and her eyes were puffy like she’d been crying. David was the twins’ dad’s name. I wondered what was going on with him.
“I don’t even know where Blake is right now. He keeps sneaking out…” Mrs. Tyler continued. Now, she was crying. Krystle stood beside her, a sad look on her face as she pinned her eyes to the floor. They were in our living room, my mom in her robe rubbing Mrs. Tyler’s shoulder.
“Mama, why can’t I go with you?” Krystle whined, lifting her head to peer at her mom.
“Hush, girl! You know you can’t come with me, and no, you are not staying at home alone at night. Don’t matter that you’re thirteen.”
Krystle dropped her head and shoulders.
Seconds later, her mom was gone and mine was making Krystle a bed on our family room sofa. I was still standing in my doorway when my mom finally noticed me.
“Go back to bed, Bean,” she instructed.
I had a million questions in my mind but didn’t ask any of them, knowing how my parents were about kids being in grown folks’ business. Climbing back into bed, I lay in the darkness staring at nothing until the house grew silent, indicating that my mom had gone to bed. I was careful to be quiet as I eased out of my bed again and tipped into the family room.
“Krystle? You awake?” I whispered.
I could see her shift on the sofa. Her “Yeah,” was weak, shaky.
Moving closer to her, I asked, “You crying?”
After a couple sniffles, she whispered, “No.”
“What happened? Your pops sick? You worried about him?” I was on the floor now, sitting in front of the sofa, my eyes on the bundle of covers she was buried in.
“He’s really sick. My mama says if something happens to him, we won’t have nobody to take care of us. We might lose our house. I don’t wanna be homeless!” she sobbed.
Blinking hard, I said, “You won’t be homeless. I know my folks will let you stay here. You can even have my room. I don’t mind.”
She cried for a few more minutes before saying, “Thank you.”
That night, her father died. I’d later learn he had a heart attack.
Now…
I was fucking losing it.
I couldn’t believe I said all that shit to Krystle about her new nigga and LaDarius. I meant it, but I wasn’t supposed to say it. I just…fuck it! I loved her. I’d loved her for as long as I could remember, and the mere thought of her with someone else made my brain itch. It made my hands sweat and my ears pound. It also kept my dick from working, so being on this double date with Brandi, Rapp, and Yamille was futile, but it beat sitting up in my place thinking about something I’d never have again.
We were at a club—Plush—and the vibe was nice. The DJ was top tier, and Brandi was gorgeous with her glowing dark skin against a gold dress that looked to be made of chains. Her hair was in two thick cornrows, and her lips shimmered in the low light. I was wearing a Sires t-shirt and jeans while nursing a beer as she talked about…shit, I had no clue what she was saying, but she seemed excited about whatever it was, so I smiled and nodded.
About an hour into the date, the ladies excused themselves to the restroom, and as soon as they were out of sight, Rapp started in on me.
“The fuck is your problem, man? You still tripping over your ex-wife dating?” he asked.
I snapped my head from staring at nothing to face him, my eyes narrowed. “You knew she was dating?”
“Jones told me.”
I lowered my eyes. “Oh.”
“Yeah, so that is what’s going on. It’s written all over you.”
“Nah, I’m good. I mean, she’s single. I ain’t messed up about it. Plus, Brandi is a baddie.”
“Come on, man. Be real with me. You’re upset. You still love her, don’t you? You did say you shoulda stayed with Krystle.”
“I was drunk when I said that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? When aren’t you drunk?”
“I been doing better about drinking during the season, though. Plus, I really didn’t start drinking until…” Damn, I almost copped to some crazy shit.
“Until the divorce?” Rapp finished for me, but I couldn’t reply to, affirm, or deny his statement because I had shifted my gaze to the dance floor, my eyes colliding with a silhouette I was very familiar with—my wife’s. Krystle was there dancing with that motherfucker from the restaurant.
Eight
Ford
“Ford…Ford, where you going?” Rapp’s voice sounded distant as I found myself standing next to my chair, my eyes glued to that nigga’s hand on Krystle’s bare back.
“Huh?” I mumbled.
“Nigga, where are you going? Your ass hopped up in the middle of our conversation.”
Frowning, I said, “I did?”
“Yeah! And the ladies are on their way back to the table. You headed to the bar or something?”