Too Close for Comfort (8 page)

Yaya wondered what else Lincoln felt the need to share with Fitz. “That's not true. Well, not exactly true.”

“Yeah, right.” He laughed.

She tried not to notice how attractive he was in his jeans and long white T-shirt. His dreads were hanging today, and he had on a pair of what looked to be brand-new white Nike's.

“Well, I just wanted to say congratulations.”

“Thank you, Fitz. Listen, hang out for a while, grab a plate, get a manicure. I can even hook those brows up if you want.”

“My brows?—I don't think so.” He touched them.

She stared into his strong grey eyes.

“But I will get a plate.”

“Enjoy. Here's a coupon in case you want that manicure, though.”

She passed him the small slip of paper, which entitled him to three dollars off.

He walked over to the buffet table and began talking with Quincy and Lincoln.

She felt someone staring at her and checked to see where it was coming from. Taryn and Monya both were smiling as if they had discovered some deep, dark secret she was hiding from them and there was nothing she could do about it.

“What? Get back to work,” she snapped at them, and they giggled.

For the hundredth time that day, Yaya looked around to see if Jason had slipped by her and she missed his coming through the door. She was again disappointed to see he wasn't there.

“Are you all booked for today?” someone asked. Two women were standing at the receptionist's area.

“I'm sorry. Yeah, we are.” Yaya looked down at the book and saw that they were almost booked for the next two weeks. Yaya was tickled to death.

“My girlfriend told me to get here early, but somebody held me up at the mall.” The woman elbowed the young-looking girl standing beside her.

“I said, ‘Sorry,'” the younger girl said. “You know I was filling out applications.”

Feeling sorry for the women, Yaya agreed to squeeze them in on Monday and even doubled their coupon.

“'Bout time you got here.” Paige walked over to them.

“They're booked up,” the woman said. “Camille here decided to fill out a million applications.”

“I figured since we were already at the mall, I would go ahead and apply for some jobs.” Camille shrugged.

“Yaya, this is my best friend Nina, and my sister-in-law, Camille,” Paige said, introducing them.

“Oh, okay. Welcome.” Yaya smiled. “Yeah, there's no way we can take anyone else today. But I promised to hook them up on Monday.”

“I know you will.” Paige smiled. She held up her perfectly manicured hands—“Check it out.”

“Niiiiiceeeeee.” Nina admired her nails. “And look at that. Can I get a serving of him?—super-size, please?”

“Girl, make mine a double,” Camille added. “I just wanna run my fingers through his dreads.”

Yaya looked to see they were talking about Fitzgerald.

“Camille, cut it out. Nina, stop encouraging her,” Paige hissed as they walked off.

Yaya laughed, amused by their reaction.

 

 

It was well after nine when the last customer left the salon. The girls were exhausted.

“It's over!” Monya said, locking the door.

“I can't believe we did it. We are officially in business.” Taryn collapsed on the sofa of the waiting area.

“I just wanna go home and get in my bed.” Monya fell into the matching chair next to Taryn.

“What about our plans to go have a drink?” Taryn asked.

“I'm too tired,” Monya told her.

“But I told Lincoln and Jarrod we were coming over to State Streets,” Taryn replied. “We've gotta go; I'm tired too. Come on.”

“Fine.” Monya sighed. “But just one drink.”

“I just don't want to stand them up. You ready, Ya? What's wrong?—You been quiet for a while now.”

Yaya shook her head. “Nothing. Just tired.” She stretched her arms.

Truth is, she was irritated. Today had come and gone, and Jason never showed up. He hadn't even called. The most important day of her life, and he wasn't there.

Monya sat up. “I guess we need to change before we go to the club, huh?”

“No doubt. You know we can't step in there with jeans and sneakers on . . . although the shirts would make great advertisement.” Taryn looked down at her shirt. “Like walking billboards.”

“How come your words look bigger than mine?” Monya looked at hers, pointing out the difference.

“It's not the size of the words, boo-boo, it's the size of the billboard.” Taryn laughed. “Oh, I almost forgot. I have something for you both.” She walked into the back and returned with two small, black gift bags and gave one to Yaya and Monya.

“What is this?” Yaya reached inside and took out a small black, velvet box. She slowly opened it and gasped as she saw the small diamond-clustered pendant with the words
After Effex
. Tears came to her eyes. “Oh,
T
, it's beautiful.”

“Awwww, I love it.” Monya lifted hers out of the box. “Now I feel bad because I didn't get you anything.”

“Don't worry, we'll have plenty of other occasions for you to buy me gifts,” Taryn said. “Besides, you know I bought myself one. It's just my way of saying, ‘I love you and know that we're all in this together.'”

“Well, I just want to say thank you to you both. Even though this is
your
salon because it was
your
idea, and
you
all put the money up. You both make my feel like I'm just as important,” Monya told her.

‘You are just as important, Monya.” Yaya walked over and hugged her. “It's not about the money; you worked just as hard as we did in making this happen.”

Taryn joined in. “Hell, you worked harder than Yaya.” She reached into Monya's hand, taking the necklace out the box and putting it around the girl's neck.

Monya did the same for Yaya, and Yaya for Taryn. It had been an emotional day for all of them, and there was no way to stop the tears from falling.

“Okay, if we don't get outta here, there's no way I'm gonna make it to the club.” Monya wiped her eyes. “You gonna scoop me up,
T
? You know my truck is on
E
.”

“Yeah, I know. Yaya, you want me to pick you up?”

“I can meet you there.” Yaya really didn't feel up to partying, but she didn't want to spoil the mood. “Let's say, an hour?”

“Cool. Call when you leave your house.” Taryn nodded. “Perk up, Yaya—you know if Lincoln is there, Fitzgerald probably will be there too.”

“I don't care.” Yaya looked at her like she was crazy.

“Maybe you need to, especially since Jason wasn't in your face today—Fitz was,” Monya told her. “I wonder if they have another brother for me? You know good things always come in threes.”

“Lincoln's never mentioned another brother.” Taryn shrugged.

“Who knows, they may have a cousin named
Washington
for you,” Yaya joked.

“That's not funny, Yaya,” Taryn snapped as they walked out of the building.

“Yes, it was.” Yaya locked the door behind them.

She didn't understand why they kept bringing up Fitzgerald, when they knew she had just gotten back with Jason. Never mind the fact that he was not her type
.

“Baby, do you know anything about the Benz for sale outside Titus' shop?” Paige asked Quincy as she set paper products on her picnic table.

It was a nice Saturday afternoon, and they'd decided to cook out in her backyard. They had invited her mother, along with Aunt Connie, Meeko and her family, Nina and Jade, and a few other family members, including her father.

“Yeah, it's nice, huh? That fool put it up for sale knowing he had to go out of town. Why?—you know somebody interested in it.” Quincy looked up from the grill.

“Maybe. You know how much he wants for it?”

“Depends on who's interested.”

“You act like you got some type of pull or something.” She walked over and wrapped her arms around his waist. She buried her head in his shoulder and inhaled his scent. She loved touching him. It was as if she was drawn to him. It was love, no doubt about it.

“I do. I mean, after all, the man is my best friend.”

“So what does a sister have to do to get you to talk to your best friend and get me a good deal?”

He turned around and kissed her. “I'm sure you can think of something.”

“Uh, not over the food, thanks.” Camille came out, carrying a tray of meat to put on the grill.

“Be quiet before I burn your steak, youngster,” Quincy warned.

“‘Steak? She doesn't get a steak,” Paige said; “only working people get steak.”

“That's not fair,” Camille said. “You know I've been looking for a job.”

“Yeah—at the mall.” Paige laughed. “You just want to work where you can meet men and get a discount.”

“I'm just trying to make the most of my place of employment. You can't blame me for being resourceful.”

Quincy nodded. “That's true.”

“You know what—I just had the bomb idea”—Camille snapped her fingers. “You should call Yaya and hook me up with a job at the salon. They are mad busy and look like they can use the help.”

Quincy turned the meat over. “Oh, really? Are you a nail tech?”

“No.”

“A make-up artist?”

“No.”

“Then why should they hire you?” He looked over at Paige to see her reaction.

She looked at Camille and waited for her answer.

“Because . . . I would make the bomb receptionist, that's why. I told you I'm the most resourceful person in the world, so I know how to make the most of their time. Not only that, but there's no one in the city that knows more about Carol's Daughter than me. They are sitting on a gold mine and don't even know it. They aren't even marketing that to the customers like they should. I worked at Foot Locker last summer, so I have retail experience and I know how to sell.”

Camille said it all in one breath. “So can you hook me up?”

“Wow! I'm impressed,” Quincy said.

“I trained her well.” Paige walked and put her arm around Camille. “So can you hook us up?”

“‘Us?” Camille asked.

“Shut up and let me handle this,” Paige hissed.

“I guess I can see what I can do for both of you.” He sighed.

“Thanks, baby.” Paige grinned and winked at Camille.

“Yeah, thanks, baby,” Camille mocked.

Before long, their guests arrived, and the cookout was in full swing. It was the first time in a long time that her family had gotten together without any tension, chaos, and more importantly, drama. Even her estranged mother and father were sitting back and seemed to be enjoying each other, which was unusual for them.

“I am having so much fun,” Meeko told Paige as she passed her the baby.

Paige's bedroom gave her the privacy she needed to feed Isaiah; a chance to cool off. “I'm glad you are. Seems like everyone is.” Paige cradled Isaiah into her arms. He was so tiny and adorable. It made her think of her own son, who passed away moments after being born. She stared at his small face and smiled. “You are so precious.”

“Don't play with me, Paige—you know my baby is not
Precious
!”

“I meant that in a good way!” Paige laughed.

“Isaiah is the most beautiful baby boy ever born—next to Myles, that is.”

“I'll take that.” Meeko smiled. “You know, we were so worried about your reaction to the baby. Now I feel stupid because we had nothing to worry about.”

“You're kidding, right?” Paige frowned. “How did you think I was going to react?”

“I don't know. Aunt Gayle said she wouldn't be surprised if you stopped hanging around me, and we would grow apart because maybe, in a sense, you would be jealous,” Meeko confessed. “I couldn't really see that happening, but I was concerned that Isaiah would make you think about Myles.”

“Meeko, I think about Myles every day. He was my son, and I miss him. But I would never begrudge you because you had a baby. That's crazy.” Paige couldn't believe her aunt would say such a thing about her. “Was I jealous when you got married?”

“No.”

“I was happy for you, the same way I am now. Now if Aunt Gayle wants to go there, then you should point out who did complain the entire time we planned your wedding. They didn't like the dresses, they didn't like the colors, they didn't like this, they didn't like that.”

“Now that was her and Celeste.” Meeko laughed.

“You're damn right, it was them.”

The baby began whining, and Paige placed the pacifier in his mouth.

“Where are they anyway?” Meeko asked. “Don't tell me you didn't invite them.”

Paige shot a knowing glance at her cousin. “You know I didn't want to, but Mama called and told them about it, saying they were family and still had to be a part of it. Celeste already had plans with a friend, thank God. And Aunt Gayle said she wasn't up to coming.”

“Out of town?” Meeko smirked. “That girl ain't nowhere, but riding that bus to see Cofie in the pen—she ain't got no friends.”

“‘Cofie?—I know she ain't still messing with that two-time loser, come on now,” Paige said.

Before she supposedly started her imaginary relationship with Quincy, Celeste's man was Cofie. She had met him while he was locked up—he'd accidentally called their house collect, and she accepted the charges. The two exchanged letters and phone calls for over a year, and by the time he made parole, Celeste swore she was in love, and they were engaged.

Cofie put the wedding on hold as soon as he got out, saying he wanted to save some money because he wanted a big wedding. The problem was that five months later, he was caught driving without a license and carrying a concealed weapon. He went back to jail, and according to Celeste, she rarely spoke to him.

“Still talks to him every day. Aunt Gayle called Mama to borrow money because they phone bill was over six hundred dollars last month and that mug was about to get cut off.”

“I know your mama ain't give it to her.”

“No. Mama told her, ‘Maybe it needed to be cut off, since Celeste didn't have sense enough to just say no when he called collect.'”

“That's ridiculous,” Paige said.

“Mom!” Myla screamed. “Come down here quick!”

From the tone of her voice, Paige knew something was wrong. She handed Meeko the baby and rushed down the steps.

“Myla, what's wrong?”

Myla was standing in front of the door, looking as if she had seen a ghost.

Paige moved her daughter to the side to see what had caused her to scream her name. Standing at the door was Celeste.

“Oh, what's up, Celeste?” Paige was still confused by her daughter's reaction to her cousin. “Myla, why did you call me like that? And why didn't you let her in?”

“I don't know what her problem is,” Celeste said nastily, rolling her eyes at the little girl. “I was about to feel unwelcome.”

Still confused, Paige started unlocking the screen door. “No, you can come in, Celeste.”

“Thanks. Oh and I hope you don't mind—I brought a guest.”

There was something in the way that Celeste said it that made Paige stop dead in her tracks. Her hand fell to her side, and the door remained shut.

“I think you know Kasey; she used to live down the street from you.”

“Hello, Paige.” Kasey stared at Paige.

“Celeste, you have lost your damn mind. Myla, go outside and stay—don't come back in here do you understand?”

“Yes.” Myla didn't hesitate running out the back door.

“Oh, hell naw.” Meeko got to the bottom of the steps and saw who was on the other side of the door. “Celeste, are you crazy? I know you didn't bring that girl to Paige's house.”

“Whatever, Meeko. Aunt Jackie called me last week and said I was invited to Paige's house for a cookout. I asked her, ‘Could I bring a friend?' and her words to me were, ‘The more, the merrier. ' So I'm here.” Celeste smirked.

Paige continued to stare at both women, whom she hated. The anger inside her was so great that she began sweating, even in the cold air that was blasting through the vent. Her heart began pounding, and she couldn't bring herself to blink for fear that in that split second, Celeste and Kasey may come to their senses and get the hell away from her doorstep, and she wouldn't get the chance to whup their asses.

“Uh, we're waiting.” Celeste shrugged.

“Leave, Celeste, now. You know this ain't right.” Meeko stepped beside Paige.

“And her dating Quincy is right, even though she knew I had feelings for him?” Celeste rolled her neck.

“Girl, please,” Kasey spat. “I keep telling you she ain't thinking about Quincy—she's too busy trying to get back with Marlon, knowing I'm his wife and having his baby!”

“I think you both need to leave,” Quincy's voice said.

Paige could feel him behind her, but she didn't move. She continued to stare at them.

“Well, well, well . . . if it isn't the man himself. What's up, Quincy?” Celeste had the nerve to smile.

“Celeste Denise Harper, I can't believe you,” Paige's mother said.

“Hey, Aunt Jackie. Paige won't let us in. I told her you said I could bring a friend.” Celeste tried to sound innocent.

“You're wrong, Celeste,” she said.

“So is your beloved daughter, Aunt Jackie, but I don't wanna go there. We just wanted to come through and get a plate.”

“Well, I wanna go there,” Kasey said. “Can you tell me why you're calling my husband's cell phone all times of the night?”

“What?” Meeko asked; Paige didn't have to.

“She's calling Marlon and talking to him on his cell phone every night, sometimes two or three times a night.”

“Kasey, shut the hell up and just leave. You know she don't want Marlon's triflin' ass. Sorry, Aunt Jackie,” Meeko said. “I don't mean any disrespect.”

“That's okay.”

“I don't have to lie—the proof is right here in black and white.” Kasey reached into her bag and pulled out a thick wad of folded papers—“Let's see, May 3rd, 11:18 p.m., 7394898, May 4th, 12:19 p.m., May 5th, 11:36 p.m—Isn't that your telephone number?”

“So what if it is?” Quincy shrugged. “That's her daughter's father. He may be talking to Myla.”

“Bullshit! You know at eleven o'clock at night Myla is in the bed. Don't be stupid, Quincy. She ain't calling you at eleven at night. She's calling Marlon, blowing his phone up.” Celeste smirked.

Paige still remained silent, not moving.

“Say something, Paige—Everyone thinks you're this perfect person who can do no wrong. I guess it's true what they say—what's done in the dark . . .” Kasey said. “At least be woman enough to admit you're trying to get back with Marlon.”

“She ain't thinking about Marlon,” Meeko said.

“Then why is she calling him?” Kasey yelled.

“She ain't calling him.” Quincy raised his voice.

“Then who is?” Kasey demanded.

“I am, bitch. He is my brother! Now please leave!”

Everyone except Paige turned to see Camille standing with her arms folded.

A smile spread across Paige's face. She took a step back and slammed the door and locked it.

“Anybody ready for dessert?”