Sweet in the Middle

by TaugJaye Crawford

  ‘Cause Bucky had one more time to play with his bestie’s heart, and he was dragging that pillow princess too.

  Straight the fuck up.

  Emery, on the other hand, was fucking relieved that this Paris was a dick lover. She knew Bali had a man, but wasn’t all up in his business like that. Her life was so fucking busy, and she was always on the go that she never knew if she was coming or going.

  Nevertheless, a tiny twinge of jealousy did strike her when she peeped the way him and Eris had embraced. Seeing a nigga in your booth, all over your new bitch, looked just as bad as it sounded, but when Bali barged his way into the section, she calmed down. You couldn’t tell Paris was gay until he opened his mouth to speak. He consumed a heavy masculine aura, but then again, she’d never seen him in his full element either.

  On a more positive note, the DJ was hyping up the seamstress who was on stage doing her thing. She had twenty minutes to prepare an outfit for the crowd and had tunnel vision working that sewing machine. It wasn’t your ordinary fashion show. The event was also held to give designers the opportunity to display their talents via body art, the runway, and performed acts.

  The four of them kicked back, getting too damn litty to the music blasting in the air. Eris hadn’t had this much fun in a while. She was a homebody and only stepped out whenever or if ever she was up for it.

  Emery would’ve enjoyed herself even more had her phone quit ringing. It was ridiculous how many phone calls kept rolling in, and even when she silenced the damn thing, the text messages seemed to fucking double.

  Harlem: Bitch, answer the fucking phone!

  Harlem: Aw, so you call yo’ self ignoring me, Emery? You out there in St. Louis showing yo’ ass?!

  Harlem: Ma, I said I was sorry for putting my hands on you like that. Don’t do me like this.

  Harlem: Well, fuck it then, bitch! Be entertaining them hoes, and it’s like that when you get back!

  Harlem: Man, you know I love you, Em. Why the fuck you playing?

  Harlem: I just wanna eat yo’ pussy one last time. That’s it.

  Harlem: BITCH! ANSWER ME!

  Harlem: Please?

  Read, delete, delete, delete, and fucking DELETE.

  Matter fact, she deleted the whole fucking thread after blocking the number and powered the damn thing off. Emery didn’t have time for that shit. Harlem went through these psychotic ass episodes all the damn time and it was draining her. If breaking up was as easy as it sounded, then she’d be stress free. But when you were once exclusive with a controlling and bat-shit crazy ass bitch like Harlem, easy wasn’t shit but a word in the damn dictionary.

  And a worthless ass word at that.

  Emery’s trip to St. Louis came at the perfect timing. She needed to get away from her toxic ass ex, and permanently.

  In fact, there was still a handful of decisions she needed to make up her mind about when it came to her livelihood. But right now, the only thing that was important was having a good time with the fine ass chick who’d just ordered three rounds of tequila shots. She’d deal with Harlem whenever she felt like it. You couldn’t one hundred percent enjoy a good night if you weren’t living in the moment, and that’s what Emery planned on doing.

  *SITM*

  “Harlem, move! I don’t even know why I came over here! This is pointless! It’s like talking to a brick damn wall with you! I’m over this, I’m over us! I’ve already told you that shit! Now just move so I can go!”

  Slap!

  Emery closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She told herself if this bitch had ever put her hands on her again that they’d need a referee to break them up, and it was go time.

  One thing Harlem always seemed to forget was that Emery could very much hold her own. The so-called “love” that she’d always had for her is what kept Em from always fighting back. She hated that bullshit. Yeah, sometimes she might’ve felt like a punk ass bitch for backing down, but who in the hell had time for all of that childish ass, petty shit?

  No one!

  But trust and believe that she had an open fucking schedule to roust the bar with this bitch tonight.

  It made Harlem feel like she had one leg up whenever Emery cowered to physical abuse. It’s why she smacked her ass around ‘cause she knew Em wasn’t for it, but whenever she was?

  Aw, man.

  Emery started swinging on this bitch like she was a stranger off the streets.

  “WHAT. THE. FUCK. I. TELL. YOU. ABOUT. PUTTING. YO. GOT. DAMN. HANDS. ON. ME. HARLEM!!!”

  Her punches were coming around-the-clock, landing nothing but face shots. Harlem’s once, blemish-free, butterscotch skin was now stained with the blood that leaked from her nose and busted mouth. When Em tapped into the westside hood bitch that she used to be when she was running them St. Louis streets, oh, it was fucking over.

  Harlem stood no damn chance once the storm was weathered. She really couldn’t fight, so she got her fucking ass whooped until her best friend, Soul, walked through the door and pulled them apart.

  “Get the fuck out my shit, bitch, fo’ I bus’ these rounds at yo’ ass!” Harlem threatened through gritted teeth with her gun raised.

  She was embarrassed, and had Emery even flinched, she’d be liable to empty out the clip just off GP.

  “Fuck you, ho! You ain’t gon’ do shit! I ain’t never been scared of you, but I’m sick of holding my tongue to keep some temporary ass peace wit’ yo’ ass! I can’t believe I put up with this shit for this damn long! Fuck you, and fuck all of this shit too! Give it to yo’ next bitch! Except this!”

  Emery snatched the Chanel purse up off the ground that had a good twenty bands stashed away inside of it. She’d been sitting on it for a rainy day and would be damned if she left without it.

  It was the principle behind it. Not the money. Money wasn’t an issue for a woman like her.

  “Just gon’, ma,” Soul urged while holding Harlem back. “You know she crazy. Just leave.”

  “No, you think this bitch crazy, but her soft ass ain’t shit! Stay the fuck away from me or else I’mma knock all yo’ got damn teeth out, bitch!”

  And with that, Emery stormed off, stomping her feet, being sure to slam the front door behind her. She knew she ain’t have no business going over there in the first damn place. Head shouldn’t have been so fucking binding. It just shouldn’t. Emery went six months not letting Harlem’s excessive calling and text messaging get to her. She didn’t know what made her crack two nights ago.

  The night before her show to be exact.

  Her debut in St. Louis had been her main priority for months: measurements, fabrics, pins, and a sewing machine.

  It was her guilty pleasure.

  There she was, minding her own damn business while tryna finish up on the dress she planned on slaying at the show, but seeing unknown come across her phone fucked all of that up.

  Threw a whole monkey wrench in her operation.

  It was nothing but a test that she’d failed with flying colors.

  Something in her wanted to hear Harlem’s voice. Something in her heart was hoping that this attempt to fix them would/could possibly be different since half a year of separation stood between them…

  Tuh!

  Her dumb ass fell for that shit, and she’d regretted it ever since. It’d been nothing but pernicious suffering and good head once they crossed paths. Harlem might’ve been a crazy, sexy, cool ass bitch to kick it with, but other than that, they were like vinegar and oil. They never got along. Their views were on two totally opposite ends of the spectrum, but when the sex was good, a bomb ass orgasm ain’t do shit but leave you with a bunch of blurred lines, a closet full of shrouds, and emptiness.

  Not to mention the bitch was paid.

  You didn’t have to be dummy rich in order for Emery to fuck with you, but you couldn’t be a damn bum either.

  Studs weren’t even her type.

  Em loved thicker girls. Girly girls. Fems. Real cute ass bitches, but Harlem was a
light-bright ass devil that ensnared her within a vice grip when they met.

  Emery knew that bitch wouldn’t do shit but ruin her life, but she just had to eat the apple any damn way.

  For one, Harlem thought her tacky ass was fine as hell, straight looking like a local baby daddy at the nearest hood baby shower wearing a Burberry button-down, Balmain jeans, and some out of season ass red bottom sneakers on the night she stepped to her. I mean, sis should’ve known the bitch wasn’t shit.

  She was attractive though.

  Her long, waist-length, black, and curly hair that she always wore styled in eight plaits was a winning compliment amongst her face. The bitch had gold slugs, was tatted up, and her lining was tapered to perfection. But it was that’s girl’s God-forsaken voice that swayed her.

  Baritone was a weakness for Emery.

  Because, baby, the voice box on Vin Diesel?

  The shit turned Emery to putty whenever she watched any of his films.

  Harlem spoke with such an alluring pitch herself, that it always made Em’s irises cross like Plank from Ed, Edd, & Eddy.

  Don’t judge my girl.

  We all liked what we liked, okay?

  Harlem ate pussy like it was nothing too.

  If that bitch couldn’t do anything right, bringing her to a climax with that sinful ass tongue was always done with perfection. I’m talking some, head so muthafucking fye that you daydreamed and instantaneously creamed just from venturing back to the moment.

  The deadly and coercing licks of that woman’s tongue had Em on her toes for a whole damn year until she decided that enough was enough. The way she said, I’m sorry with her mouth was unheard of…but it wasn’t worth the hurt and pain that Emery found herself drowning in whenever her pussy wasn’t contracting.

  “Shit!” she sobbed while banging her hand on the steering wheel.

  It seemed like Atlanta, Georgia had traffic twenty-four-fucking-seven. Emery was so fucking done with this city and everybody in it. It was overpopulated, and the dating pool sucked ass! She couldn’t take any more of this shit another day.

  “Emery Binx.”

  She flashed her mama a teary-eyed smile once their FaceTime connected.

  “Hey, mommy,” she sniffled with red eyes.

  “What’s wrong, baby?”

  Those three words took Emery the hell out. She broke down in a hysterical cry right in the middle of the stand-still traffic. Her dreadful sobs might’ve drowned out her confessions a tad bit, but for the most part, her mama had all of the facts about what was causing her daughter pain.

  “Baby, take a deep breath. It’s okay. You needed to get that out. Deep breaths, baby. You’re only human.”

  Emery loved her mama.

  Her amiable and consoling tone, the sweet smile she always wore, and the positive outlook on life that consumed her? It was a wave of optimism that she couldn’t live without. She’d never met another soul on this earth who mellowed her out or brought her peace like Janet Donatella did.

  It was such a blessing, and she thanked God for their bond.

  “Now, what the hell you mean that bitch put her damn hands on you? I know that’s not what you telling me, Emery Binx.”

  Binx was Em’s middle name. Her mama had been calling her that since her born day.

  However, Janet had zero-tolerance for abuse. Especially physical, so she was beyond upset to hear the things that her daughter had been silently battling.

  “I’m done, mama. Like, I’m just done. I wanna come home,” Emery sobbed while sweeping her tears away.

  Her face was so red from frustration.

  “You can always come home for a few days to clear your head, and you know that, baby.”

  “No, I wanna come back home for good. I’m sick of Atlanta. I wanna pack up my shit, let my assistant manager run my store, and move back. Clients will fly out to see me and vice-versa. Hell, at this point, I can open another location in St. Louis. It’s not like I don’t have options.”

  “Although that’s true, that’s still a big decision and move to be making all over a breakup, Emery. You’ve planted roots in Atlanta, so you just can’t up and leave.”

  “I know that too,” Emery sighed. This shit was just as stressful as it’d been since the day she realized that this city was sucking her dry. “I’ve been sitting on the thought for a while now. I’m so lonely. Don’t get me wrong; I thank God for all He’s done for me, but I’m not happy. Something is missing. Home is a part of it. You’re the biggest part of it. Mommy, please don’t try to shrink me. This is honestly how I feel.”

  “I’m not tryna shrink you, chile,” Janet smiled. “I’m just being a mama by making sure you weigh all of your options before you make such a drastic decision. That’s all. You’ve worked so hard to get where you are in life, and I don’t want you throwing that all away.”

  “I know.”

  Emery inhaled deeply. Traffic was starting to pick up, so hopefully, she’d be out of this shit soon.

  “You want your mama to come see you? I’m sorry I wasn’t there for your show. You know how these layovers be in the winter. Michigan is a mess right now. I’m not going to see your dad’s sister again until the spring.”

  “It’s okay. You be needing to get away and enjoy yourself. But, yes, I do. I would love that. You can help me get all of this stuff packed up too. I mean it, ma. I’m coming home. Even if it’s only for a year. I’ve gotta get out of here. Somedays I can’t even think. It’s just so much.”

  “Okay, baby. I’ll be there this weekend. Whatever you want. Whatever makes you happy. You know I got your back through whatever.”

  A tear sprang from both corners of her eyes and rolled down her cheeks when Emery smiled.

  “I wanna fall in love with a woman like you one day, Ms. Donatella. You so selfless with so much love to give. I need that in my life on a companion level.”

  “You will. As long as you believe in it and keep yo’ faith, God is gonna bless you with all your heart desires. Now, I’m not sure if she’ll love you like I love you, but second place ain’t that bad.”

  The ladies shared a laugh as Emery merged right to take her exit.

  “I wouldn’t know what to do without you, mommy. For real. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m not going nowhere, child. You know as long as I’m breathing, I’m moving mountains for my baby. Drink you some tea, run you a bath, and listen to a sermon when you get home. Relax yourself and clear your mind. Light them candles in the candle warmer I sent you. You’re gonna love it. I’ll see you this weekend, alright? Bright and early Friday morning. I just booked my flight.”

  “Okay.”

  “Somethin’ like my homie and a lover and my friend,”

  -Nipsey Hussle

  3

  “P, no. I’m done. I can’t go anymore,” Eris huffed.

  Baby girl was too out of breath. Her chest heaved up and down as she tried her best to replenish her lungs with air. Not to mention, she was soaked in perspiration. The Keisha Kaior waist eraser had her white tee drenched, and her knees were ye’ close to giving out on her.

  She hated gym days.

  “Come on, girl. We going to Greece in July, and I don’t give a fuck what you say. You not quitting this time. Five more and I’ll leave you alone.”

  She desperately wanted to smack him upside his bald ass head when he shoved the fifteen-pound dumbbells back in her hands.

  Against her wishes, Eris rolled her eyes and got these last five burpees out the way to shut his ass up. Flipping him the middle finger, she snatched up her things and stomped towards the women’s locker room.

  She’d never admit to him how energized she always felt succeeding their brutal workout sessions. P was an ass when he got into “personal trainer” mode, but the shit worked. It would’ve taken her seventy years to lose the forty pounds she’d dropped in the last two months, thanks to him.

  Paris stayed in the gym; he ate clean, he was vegan, and only drank
on occasion.

  Like hell, if Eris was giving up on meat. He could ride that wave all on his lonesome.

  She couldn’t lie though, when she said his high veggie intake was rubbing off on her. Eris found herself at the Soulard Market every week for fresh greens and spices like an addict.

  Kale one day, tacos the next, and workout sessions four days a week.

  Balance.

  After a ten minute detox in the sauna that also helped her relax and increase blood circulation, Eris grabbed her gym bag and met P in the waiting area. She couldn’t wait to get back to his place so she could shower and eat something.

  All shorty could think about was her salmon bowl with brown rice, fresh steamed veggies, and teriyaki sauce while she showered. They stopped at Crazy Bowls & Wraps on the way home.

  After thirty minutes of an intense body wash and exfoliating her skin, she layered herself in Almond Honey Shea Body Butter, slid into a salmon-colored footed onesie that clung to her frame, and headed to P’s kitchen.

  He was fresh out the shower himself, shirtless and donning Adidas skinny joggers. He was in the process of whipping them up a green juice to wash their dinner down with.

  “You still ain’t seen that new Tyler Perry movie on Netflix, have you, Er Bear?”

  Eris shook her head no as she trekked over to his midnight blue, velvet sectional with their food trays. As soon as P pressed play, they didn’t hesitate to dig into their food. All you heard besides the movie playing in the background was their forks scraping the glass plates and inevitable smacking.

  The food was bomb.

  “So, wassup with you and this Emery?”

  Eris couldn’t help but smile as she sipped on her room temperature Essential water. It was only a matter of time before her bestie jumped down her throat about the other night, and she was prepared.