“It must’ve been on some intrinsic shit because outside of that face and body I can’t think of one thing you’ve mentioned that should have you smiling like that,” she says, still trying to figure things out just like I am.
When I think about our date from start to finish, I can’t pinpoint any one thing that stood out, but as a whole it was close to perfect. From the conversation and food at The Diner to the home tour that left me wanting more when I put my foot in my mouth. The only thing I don’t like about the whole thing is the thought of having to wait before we do it again.
Like last time, he hasn’t given me any indication of what we’ll be doing or how I should dress, no matter how many times I ask. What he has done is send me random pictures daily that usually start off a chain of text messages between us that often dive deeper than just surface shit. I don’t know what expression is on my face, but when I see Sheena standing by the door, she’s looking at me intently, nodding.
“Yeah, I don’t know what’s in the water at that diner, but I may need to go get me some. Then maybe I can find a man to make me smile like that. One with a little extra coin, of course,” she adds.
Even though her comment is harmless, I still find myself feeling some type of way.
“It doesn’t always have to be about money, Sheena,” I say defensively.
“I’m not saying that it does… for you. But as for me and my house, that box got to be checked, sis.”
Instead of having another moral debate with her, I decide to go back to picking through my closet for the perfect fit for my next date, settling on a pair of jeans, a green tank top, and an offthe shoulder knit top to wear in place of the maxi dress Sheena originally picked out.
“What do you think about this?”
I lay each piece on the bed, then pick out a few accessories to set it off, waiting for Sheena to put her two cents in.
“I mean, if you’re going to end up doing some more random shit, it’s alright, I guess. But I’d nix the green top. I thought you liked this man,” she says, confusing me.
“You’re the one who always says how good green looks on me, so why not this?”
“Because of the obvious. It may look good on you, but bad in the DP,” she says and I realize I don’t even know what this man’s gang affiliation is. Is Vaughn a member of DP? It hasn’t really come up outside of the cryptic answers he gave me about what he does for a living. I just assumed it’d be obvious if he was. But the more I think about it, the more ridiculous it sounds. Especially in my line of work, where I can think of at least two confirmed DP members Vaughn’s age who are just as low key. Then I think of the picture I took at Highland Park that shows the clear divide between Douglasville residents and their rivals from Bedford Homes. So, instead of dwelling on the unknown, I switch out my green top for a purple one and keep it moving.
“Wait… you’re not having any second thoughts or moral dilemmas from the fact that you may be dating a lowkey boss who took you to a diner?” Sheena asks with fake outrage while still bringing up The Diner. She still has a smile on her face while she watches me find all new accessories for the purple top then nods. “Yeah, you definitely like this one.”
Chapter 8
Vaughn
On our first date,I pulled the best of Diamond Falls idea outta nowhere once I became invested in making sure Cori had a good time. Now that there’s a second one, I gotta keep the shit up but I’m fresh out of ideas. The only thing I can think of is all the sexual shit I talked, alluding that I would make it happen our second time around. She seemed cool with it too and even questioned why it wasn’t happening then. That’s how I landed on running back the same experience from a different perspective.
We hit up the Fire Peaux Boyz food truck set up in Highland Park today and surprisingly she’s familiar with both. So I let her order the food this time around and we experience all of her favorites together as we watch Jay Roc run through conditioning drills with some of the DP Ballerz.
When we leave the park and she shows no interest in ending our date, I head in the direction of my complex, parking in my normal spot, and debate whether I should leave her in the truck or bring her in while I grab a few things. It’s a decision that has me in such a weird headspace that I don’t realize we’re just sitting with my truck idling until Cori gets my attention.
“Are we getting out?” she asks as she looks out the window, taking everything in. I wouldn’t expect anything else from someone like her. A woman who was probably raised in a solid middle-class lifestyle with enough curiosity to have her going from the gutter to golden gated neighborhoods if that’s where the story took her.
“I’m thinking about it,” I say truthfully because this is only our second date. Sure, she’s met my son and mother unofficially, but officially, inviting her in seems real premature. “My mom’s in there and I don’t want you tripping off the fact that you’re meeting her on the second date.”
I laugh off the statement and she rolls her eyes in response.
“Why are we here then?”
Good question.I don’t know the answer, but I do know now’s as good of time as any to broach the subject that’s a major sticking point for most women. Hell, gauging her reaction to what I have to say will save me a lot of time. If this part of my life bothers her, I can take her to The Drexel to fuck her like we both want and send her on her way… If it doesn’t, I’ll continue as planned for tonight and keep things open for more.
“Honestly, I don’t know why I brought you here. Even though you’ve already met Jay and seen my moms,” I say, easing my way into it before continuing. “This is the spot I share with my mom and Jay and I usually keep them separate from shit like this.” I study her face for a moment, waiting for that twinge of judgement I get when people find out I’ve moved back in with my mom, but it doesn’t come. What does come is a chuckle from her that may be even worse.
“A life so separate that you wanted to use said son as incentive for a date,” she says, calling me on my shit. I don’t even have a fucking good response as to why I just outed myself as playing both ways.
“Look, Jay is almost a grown ass man, and you were going to get an interview with him whether I had anything to do with it or not. My mom on the other hand…”
“Is a grown ass woman, but I get it,” Cori says, finishing my statement when I hesitate.
“Nah, you don’t. I was about to say, my mom doesn’t play that shit. So if I take you in there, you better be on your Ps and Qs. Even if she seems nice and doesn’t say shit tonight, she’s going to be filing everything you say away for later. The only reason I get a pass from her mouth half the time is because I pay for everything in that motherfucker, and even that doesn’t keep me safe most times.”
“So you’re a mama’s boy?” she asks out loud and I try my best not to respond negatively to an assumption people make all the time.
