Boaz Brown (22 page)

We talked about Quinn the whole way over. Or shall I say,
she
talked about Quinn. I just listened. It reminded me of old times, when she’d lost her mind over Raphael. The sun rose and set on Raphael back in the day. Yet I knew that Peaches wasn’t the same person she had been nine years ago. She had grown, blossomed, gotten wiser in the Word of God right alongside me. I loved her, and I was happy for her.

“I’m sorry,” she said after some time. “I’m just going on and on about Quinn. What’s up with you, girl?”

“Oh, nothing.” I smiled. I wanted to tell her about Stelson—about how we’d gone to Abuelita’s and talked a few times on the phone since then. About how he and I had gotten off to a rough start but were actually getting to know each other now. But I wasn’t ready to talk about his being white, so I kept my mouth shut because his name alone would probably cause her to suspect something.

Quinn’s cousin, Mark, was surprisingly handsome. Peaches and I did a double-take when he walked from what appeared to be the main hallway into Quinn’s living area.

Dang!
Mark was tall and had deep ebony skin and a head that was perfect for shaving bald—no dents, no cuts. Just smooth, black man. Old boy was looking good, dressed in FUBU from top to bottom except for the matching red Nikes that completed his outfit. A little more hip-hop than I was used to, but he was definitely workable.

Quinn introduced us. “Mark, this is LaShondra, Peaches’ best friend. LaShondra, this is my cousin, Mark.” We shook hands, and I sat down again on the couch. Mark sat down next to me, still smiling.

“No time for that now,” Quinn said, “the movie starts in twenty minutes.”

I hated to see Mark put on the coordinating knit cap before we left, but it was quite chilly outside. Christmas was just around the corner, and the weather happened to match the season.

“Are you enjoying Dallas?” I asked Mark during the short walk to Quinn’s Lincoln LS.
“I’m enjoying it a whole lot more now,” he said.

Well, we all know how this double-date thing works. Especially when one of the dates is a blind one. The primary couple sits in the front, making goo-goo eyes. The secondary couple sits in the back restlessly, trying to make small talk and not ruin the evening for the primaries.

I took my rightful place at the back door on the passenger’s side and waited for the doors to be unlocked. Mark took his place on the other side of the car. Quinn came to my side as well, to unlock and open the door for Peaches. He gave Mark the eye, like “come around here and open the door for this lady,” and Mark gave him the eye like “man, please get a life.”

Peaches slid into the front seat, probably unaware of the silent exchange that I’d been forced to witness. Mark got in the car and shut the door, so Quinn went ahead and opened the door for me.

Now, I have to admit: wrong or right, I’ve never been one of those women who expect a man to open the door for them. It was nice when it happened, but I wasn’t going to hold my breath about it. But the way Mark looked at Quinn was uncalled for.
I’m not gonna trip.

“You look very nice,” he complimented me in the backseat of Quinn’s car.

“Thank you,” I said.

“I don’t usually go out on blind dates—I mean, I’m pretty sure that the woman is going to be pleased with me, but sometimes I end up with an African booty-scratcher.” He laughed at his own joke.

“So, how are you enjoying the city?” I asked him again, since he never really answered the first time.

“Oh, it’s cool. Cuz is showing me around the new city hot spots. Well, actually, he ain’t down like he used to be— all sanctified now. He had me in church the other night. But it was cool—lots of people to see. Probably the same people I’d see up in the club. Maybe the two of us could get out and see the city,” he suggested.

“I don’t know if you want to paint the town with me. I’m not really with the club scene,” I informed him.

“Oh, all right then. Well, maybe we could do some one- on-one touring,” he hinted, looking me up and down.

“Hmm…” I dismissed the idea.

We sat through the movie with very little conversation. Mark took it upon himself to put his arm on the back of my chair. It gradually eased down—first a finger, then a hand, until finally his whole arm draped my shoulders.

Is he crazy?
I kindly removed his unwelcomed limb from its newfound resting place and crossed my arms on my chest, hoping he got the message.

After the movie, we went to dinner at a trendy grill. We waited outside for nearly half an hour before our table was ready. Peaches and Quinn were all snuggled up while Mark and I were still trying to make small talk.

“So, what do you do?” he asked me.

“I’m a vice principal at a middle school.”

He nodded, the corners of his lips turned down in a condescending expression. I knew that common courtesy called for me to reciprocate his question, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of going on and on about whatever it was he did.

When it was clear I wasn’t going to ask him, he spoke up for himself. “I’m a computer programmer.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” I congratulated him.

“Yeah, it pays good.
Real
good,” he announced like somebody from one of those career advertisements on television in the middle of the day. “I make, what, probably two or three times what the average man makes.”

“Oh. So what dragged you away from your computer?”

“Just took some time off—you know, vacation. Could have gone anywhere in the world, but I haven’t seen my cuz in a while. Got some other family here, too.” He sniffed and swiped at the bridge of his nose with his thumb.

I excused myself to go to the restroom, and Peaches followed. We met at the center mirror. “So, what do you think?”

“You
owe
me
one after tonight.”

“Whatever! You haven’t seen anything
that
chocolate,
that
fine in a long time. Girl, Mark would give Morris Chestnut a run for his money.” Peaches smiled.

“Mark is real throwed-off, okay.”

“Throwed-off like what? Crazy? Nerdy?”

“Throwed-off like I’m surprised his neck has the strength to hold up his overblown head. He’s one of those brothers who has a good job and looks half decent. He knows he’s at a premium, so he thinks I should be throwing myself at him. Girl, please,” I smacked, “if he was all that, he wouldn’t be vacationing two hundred miles from home and staying with a family member. Just up here lyin’.”

“Shondra,” she said, applying a fresh coat of lipstick, “get off it. Mark is a decent brother. Give him a chance.”

“He already had his chance. It’s over.” I squashed her hopes.

“Do you think he might be a Boaz in disguise?” she asked.

“He’s a Boaz without the ‘Bo’,” I hinted. “Now, don’t make me get ugly.”

“All right, Shondra,” Peaches laughed.

“But don’t let that worry you. You and Quinn go right on having a good date. I’m having fun just watching how well he treats you. I think you snagged a good one this time.”

“Yeah, I did, didn’t I?” she agreed, pausing to smile at herself in the mirror.

“You go, girl.”

We rejoined the men at the table to dine in peace for the rest of the evening. I stayed my distance from Mark, and he stayed his distance from me. As I sat there pushing my green beans back and forth across the plate to ease my boredom, I thought about how different this dinner was from the dinner I had with Stelson. We’d talked. We’d laughed and shared a few things.

“What you over there grinning about?” Mark poked me on the shoulder.

“Oh, nothing.”

“Humph.” He looked at me out of the corner of his eye and placed the cherry from his margarita on the tip of his tongue. He swirled his tongue around the base of the cherry before plucking it from its stem and taking a sloppy bite into it. “That was for you.”

“Okay, I’m ready to go,” I announced, but Quinn and Peaches were too far into each other’s conversation to hear me.

“Don’t be scared.” Mark moved in closer to me and whispered, “Sex is the most natural thing in the world. I know you’re a church girl, but I can show you some things that will have you screaming my name in tongues.”

“First of all,” I whispered back to Mark while pushing him off me, “you don’t know me from the man in the moon. How dare you suggest that we have sex? I find that very disrespectful—church girl or not.”

“Might as well cut out all the games,” he said. “That way we can both get what we want. I’m only in town for a few more days anyway.”

“Second of all,” I continued, “your technique needs a little work.”

“What technique?”

“With the cherry.” I slowed my speech and lowered my voice to sexy bedroom whisper. “See, the way you chewed it up like a piece of bubble gum tells me that you don’t know how to savor a good moment. You don’t know how to turn a fleeting moment into a night of pleasure—you know, make it last? You’d be done before I got finished with you. Even if I had the notion to give you a chance— which I
do not—
it
wouldn’t have worked out, Mark. I know a selfish lover when I see one.”

Mark looked at me as if he didn’t know if I was a nut or a she-devil. “Oh, I guess you think you all that, huh?” He sucked his teeth.

“You’ll never know.”

“That’s what’s wrong with black women today,” he said as he moved back to his rightful spot two feet away from me. He chewed his food so hard I thought his teeth would fall out.

I gave Peaches “the look.” She in turn gave Quinn a nudge in the ribs, and we were out of there. Mark asked Quinn to drop him off at one of their other relatives’ homes to play dominoes and said that he probably wouldn’t be back at Quinn’s apartment until the next day.

When Mark stepped out of the car, he purposely waved at Peaches and Quinn—but not me. In a way, I was glad he didn’t. He was so mad, he might not have been holding up all five fingers.

“Well, what did you think?” Quinn asked as we drove back to his apartment.

“Don’t ask, Quinn.” I shook my head and looked out my window, trying not to laugh. “I don’t want to say something that I’ll have to repent for later.”

“Yeah,” Quinn laughed for me. “That Mark is something else. He begged me to set him up with somebody tonight.”

“I can’t tell,” I said. “No offense, Quinn, but Mark thinks he’s God’s gift to women.”

“Yeah.” Quinn looked at me in the rearview mirror. “I believe Mark rode the short bus to school.”

“You are so wrong!” I yelled.

“Baby, don’t talk about him like that.” Peaches caught her breath. “He is your cousin.”

Baby?

“Yeah, that’s my cuz. But I haven’t seen him in a while. Let me take it upon myself to apologize. I was hoping things had changed for him—you know, that maybe he’d stopped all that lying and perpetrating he used to do when we were young and immature.”

“I can assure you,” I said, “nothing has changed. Keep him on the prayer list.”

Taking the shortcut back to Quinn’s apartment, we passed directly in front of Abuelita’s Mexican restaurant. The parking lot was filled to capacity, and there was still a line out the door. I called Peaches’ attention to the restaurant by tapping on her window. “That place right there has the best Mexican food in the world. It is absolutely delicious.”

“Oh, really?” Peaches asked. “Looks packed. When did you go there?”

“Last weekend.”

“How come you didn’t tell me, girl? You know I’m down with Mexican food.”

“Um…” I hesitated, “I went with. . . It was kind of like a business-casual thing with . . . um, one of the presenters from the career fair.”

“Oh,” Peaches said softly.

The final Wednesday night tutoring session of the semester started on time, with ten students in need of some serious help before exams. Within the first fifteen minutes, I was swamped again. Brother Jenkins had already called to say that he wouldn’t be able to make it in. The kids were coming two at a time, and the only thing I could think to do was to send some back into the sanctuary until I got finished helping the first round of kids.