The brief contact makes me miss her skin and the other parts of herself she showed me that I was never supposed to see—like her titties spilling over the cups of her bra. They’re a light caramel brown and smaller than the palms of my hands. Shit, Ieven miss that bruise that stretches across her side and makes me watch her harder just to make sure I was right about her rib not being broken.
She ain’t built like Rasheeda…or Red…or Beatrice…or any other woman that makes my eyes linger longer than they should. But Senior and Smitty always told me that ass and titties aren’t the end all be all, and I think I finally agree with them after watching the way Slim’s dress hugs her little body as she struts onto the porch’s bottom step with me.
Beatrice’s granddaughter, Tamryn, swats a fluttering moth from her face and scoots up in her seat beside Joe.
“Look, y’all—it’s Pup.” She tugs Joe’s cigarette from his trembling fingers, knocking it against the ashtray on the dusty card table next to her chair.
The sound of my name makes them lift their heads. They all call out for me in a low, gravelly chorus, except for Joe.
His cloudy grey eyes roam to the opposite end of the porch. “That’s you for sure, Pup?”
I climb one more step. “It’s Saturday, Joe. You know I come every Saturday.”
“Yeah, but I ain’t hear your voice. I gotta hear that voice, boy.”
Joe fought at Lucky’s for sixteen years before a nigga from the Southside hit him so hard that both of his retinas detached. Senior said it only took a few hours for him to lose his sight and they couldn’t do shit but watch his ole’ lady comfort him because Dr. Borrowitz was stuck in traffic that day.
“You late, huh?” Tamryn asks, leaning forward and resting her head in her hands.
She’s got honey-colored skin just like her mama. I could never remember her mama’s name, but I always remembered her round face and the way Beatrice glowed when she bragged about her finally enrolling in Lockwood to get her degree. I usedto call her “Honey” and neither her, Tamryn, or Beatrice ever corrected me.
“I had something I needed to take care of,” I reply, resting my foot on the top step.
Tamryn tilts her head to the side, looking behind me to get a glimpse at Slim. “Oh yeah? That’s a pretty something you had to take care of.”
She smirks, wiggling her fingers at Slim in a girlish wave.
I bite into my bottom lip, snorting as Slim’s raspy giggle floats from behind me. “Mhmm. You know they say, ‘the prettier the woman, the crazier she is.’ That’s what took me so long. Had to wrangle her crazy ass in.”
Tamryn giggles and Slim nudges me in my back with the cake box. “Hey!”
Tamryn’s giggle drifts into a snicker. “No offense, but you do got to be a lil’ crazy to wanna be friends with Pup.”
I glance over my shoulder, catching the sheepish smile on Slim’s face before she hides it.
I shrug. “You ain’t gotta worry. She don’t befriend people like me.”
“I never said that.” Slim huffs. “He said out of his own mouth he doesn’t have friends, and I’m starting to understand why with hisorneryass.”
“Yeah…Pup’s the only dog I know who don’t run in a pack, but I guess he don’t need one.” Tamryn laughs again, flinging her braids over her shoulder and sticking the cigarette back between Joe’s shaky fingers. “Alright, don’t forget, this your last one, Mr. Joe. My grandma says you gotta quit for good after today.”
He murmurs out a grunt that only she understands.
“I get it, but I don’t make the rules around here. That chart in there said, ‘October fifth—Mr. Joe’s last Newport.’ So I guess you better enjoy it.”
“Where your grandma at?” I ask.
“Inside cooking and waiting for you.”
“A’ight. I’mma go chop it up with her.”
“Mhmm. You do that.” Tamryn hums, wrinkling her eyebrows and looking out at their lawn. “She been looking for you all day—popping up on the porch every ten minutes, asking me if I seen your truck. I told her to just call you, but you know how she be acting with that dude roaming around here—can’t do too much because she scared of stepping on his toes.”
She snorts with a smirk. “What’s that you always saying, Pup? Men and their bitchass egos.”
My stomach doesn’t knot at Tamryn’s casual confession. When I was little, folks were always waiting for Senior to help them with one thing or another. He always said it was the price he paid for being the type of man he was. I never asked him what he meant by that, but now instead of waiting for him, they’re always waiting for me.
I wave Slim up the rest of the steps and she climbs them in dainty hops in her boots. She gives Tamryn one of those girlish waves and follows behind me as I push their heavy front door open.
