by Nicole Falls
“Sure, babe. Tell your coach to come over here so I can give him Dev’s address to drop you off. You’re gonna hang out with her while I go out to run some errands later, okay?”
“Ok, sure,” PJ said, running back over to where his coach and teammates were standing.
After giving the coach Dev’s address, she and I stopped off to grab a quick lunch at Sweet Tomatoes before I headed home. Dev and I parted ways quickly after lunch, but I still had quite a bit of time to kill before I had to start getting ready. I decided to watch a couple of the episodes of The Six that I’d missed this week due to working twelve and fourteen hour days trying to appease my clients and their every whim. I missed His and Hers on ESPN, but was excited to see what Michael and Jemele would be doing with the hour of Sportscenter that they’d now taken over.
As I sat there watching TV, my phone chimed. It was another text from Karim.
Dress casually and wear comfortable shoes. – Karim
We had been texting while Dev and I were at lunch. She and I were discussing what I should wear tonight and she suggested I text Karim to see what the plans were so I’d be dressed appropriately. He was cagey with details, barely wanting to tell me what were getting into. This text must’ve been the hint he promised me was forthcoming as I bugged him earlier.
So a six inch platform heel?
As long as you don’t mind being in them on your feet for hours, sure. –Karim
This would be easier if you just told me where we were going.
Where’s the fun in that? Besides, you gotta learn to trust me. – Karim
I rolled my eyes at this response.
So you keep saying…
We exchanged a few more messages back and forth before I gave up trying to figure out what Karim had planned for us tonight. I had wasted enough time trying to figure him out and catching up on my DVRed television shows that it was time for me to start getting ready for our date. Since all of his clues hinted at casual dress, I decided to go with a pair of black jeggings and an oversized black sweater, with gold accents at the collar and cuffs. I paired the outfit with my Royalty retro Jordans, going for the cute, yet comfortable look. While I was pulling my hair up into a puff, the doorbell sounded. I looked over at the clock on my vanity, it was almost seven, and so I expected to see Karim on the other side of the door when I opened it.
“You’re early.”
“I…didn’t know you’d be expecting me.”
It wasn’t Karim at my door. It was the last person I’d ever expected to be there. Jacob. I just stared blankly at him as he attempted to move past me to come inside. I moved defensively, blocking him from crossing the threshold of my front door.
“Where do you…what…why are you here?”
“We need to talk.”
My head reared back, as I looked at him with a look that surely said “are you ill?!”
“We don’t…you…you need to go.”
Jacob tried grabbing my hand, but I quickly pulled away, recoiling at the thought of being touched by him. Briefly, I noticed a pained expression cross his face before his schooled his features into an unreadable expression.
“I just wanted to explain…”
“You don’t owe me any explanations, Jacob. Not now, anyhow. I don’t care.”
“But…Celbaby…”
“Don’t call me that.”
He reached for me again, successfully grabbing my hand between the two of his. I tried snatching away, but he held firm. For a few moments we stood in silence, me looking down at our joined hands, him using the pad of the thumb of his left hand to stroke mine in soothing circles. I’d tensed up immediately at the contact, breathing quickly—trying to keep myself composed as I began to talk again.
“I need you to go. Please. Just leave me alone.”
“Baby, I just need you to hear me out. I miss you. I miss us…”
“There’s the word again…baby. Like the one that is currently in your wife’s uterus. The wife who was your girlfriend while I thought we were…” I trailed off.
I could feel the sensation brewing in my stomach letting me know that tears were eminent. I snatched my hand out of his grasp and stepped back from him. My head was lowered as I powered through a few short, shallow breaths. By the time I raised my eyes to his again, I knew the hurt was evident on my face. For a second, a flash of pain crossed his face before he reached out and embraced me. I was weak to do anything but fall into it. Letting the tears flow freely at this point, I sobbed softly into his shoulder.
“I wanted it to be you,” he whispered into my ear, just barely loud enough for me to hear it.
That small whispered statement was enough to snap me out of whatever sentimental space I was in and redirected me right into anger. I pushed out of his arms, seething.
“You wanted it to be me? What kind of sh…are you out of your mind?”
“Celbaby, calm down.”
“One—I told you not to call me that already. Two—how in the fuck am I supposed to be calm when the man who shredded my heart shows up on my doorstep months later without any prior notice trying to run some weak game and work his way back into my life. Because that’s what you thought would happen hear right? Soft-hearted, weak, so lonely and desperate for companionship Celena would be swayed by your weak ass attempt at an apology and open her doors…and eventually legs to you once again right? You wanted it to be me? You wanted me to be the woman sitting at home with a gut full of human who probably thinks her husband ran out to grab ice cream and pickles or whatever strange foods are being craved right now? But instead he’s at his old work’s house trying to worm his way back in. You wished that was me? You wanted me to be oblivious and blind to your snake ass ways? Is that what you wanted?”
Jacob just stood there staring with a stupefied look on his face. I would have bet anything that rant wasn’t what he expected. I’d been soft with him—slow to anger and never raised my voice beyond an occasional high-pitched scream during more intimate moments. He opened his mouth to say something, but before a single word could cross his lips, I held up my hand.
“I need you to go. Please, just…”
I could hear the desperate tremor in my voice and apparently so did Jacob. That was enough to finally get him to give up and walk away. Before he was completely clear of my stoop he turned back again to say something, but seemed to think better of it. I closed the door sharply, resting my forehead against it as I took a few cleansing breaths. I thought that if I ever got the chance to tell him how I really felt after he went ghost it would be such a gratifying, soul cleansing moment. Instead I felt like I’d been through the spin cycle—dizzy, slightly disoriented, and completely drained. I pulled myself away from the door and collapsed on my couch into a heap of tears.
I didn’t even know why I was crying, but I did. I hadn’t been sitting around pining away for him, but a small piece of me still hoped that I was on Jacob’s mind. Did I want him back? Not at all, but I needed him to be longing for me in some way. I needed to know that what we shared wasn’t one-sided and…hell, I don’t know. I just needed to know that him being away from me hurt him in the same way him going ghost on me hurt me. Just admitting it sounded silly as hell.
After what seemed like just a couple minutes after I’d sat down on my couch trying to process that visit, my doorbell rang again. I quickly dashed to the half bath to wipe the tracks of my tears and rushed back to the door. This time I looked through the peephole, like I should have done the first time and saw it was Karim. I pasted a smile on my face and opened the door.
“Hey!” I said, sounding fake to my own ears.
Karim stared, seemingly searching for something in my face before responding with a more subdued greeting.
I turned away to walk back toward my room to grab my things, speaking over my shoulder, “I’m ready, I just need my bag and we can roll.”
Karim followed me inside, closing the door behind him. As I walked back to my room I could hear him c
alling out.
“Hey!”
I quickly grabbed my bag and hustled back out to the front room.
“What’s up?” I asked as I walked back into the room where he had made himself comfortable on my couch.
When I pulled up Celena’s place she was outside talking to some dude. Whoever buddy was she wasn’t interested in whatever he was saying. I was just about ready to step in when he finally gave up and walked away. After she closed the door, old dude sat there for a while at the end of her walkway looking like somebody stole his puppy. I was guessing that this was the ex. For some reason he looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him. He was probably somebody that came in for a repair at one time or another. At any rate I gave him a few minutes to clear out and to give her a few minutes to gather herself before I left my truck to ring the doorbell.
Celena answered the door with a plastic smile that barely reached her eyes. She hustled off to grab her stuff before I could get to the bottom of whatever the hell had just transpired, so I made the executive decision to change the location of our date. She looked in need of distraction and I knew just the place in which we could find plenty.
“Change of plans,” I called out as she was coming back into her living room, “Put on something you wouldn’t mind getting dirty.”
She opened her mouth to say something in protest, but I cut her off.
“Trust…”
“I know, I know…trust you. All right, I’m trying. Give me a couple minutes. Make yourself comfortable,” she said, going back into her room once again.
While she changed her clothes, I turned on the television to catch a bit of the NBA game that was on. My squad was playing like trash as usual, so I was glad that Celena only took a few minutes to change. She came out wearing all black, a fitted tee, yoga pants and chucks. Walking up to where I sat she eyed me warily.
“What?”
“You’re gonna get dirty in that?” she said, gesturing toward the light rinse jeans, heather grey polo, and white and grey Air Max 90s on my feet.
“I have a change of clothing where we’re going,” I said, standing up and turning the television off.
We walked out of the door, Celena locked it behind us, and I grabbed her hand for the short walk to my truck. When we reached my truck, I opened the door, helped her settle in, and then closed it behind her before rounding the vehicle to drive off. I’d decided that instead of the night filled with dinner and activities that I had planned, I was going to take Celena to my garage. I wanted to take her mind off whatever caused the pain behind the fake smile that she answered her door with.
“So…why the change of plans?”
I scratched the back of my head, stalling for an answer. I didn’t want to come out and say I saw whatever was going on between her and old dude, but I didn’t want to lie to her either.
“You look like you could use some distraction. So I decided I wanted to take care of that for you.”
We’d stopped at a red light, so I looked over to see Celena looking at me with a skeptical look.
“And your initial idea?”
“Too date-y.”
“Too date-y? What does that even mean, Karim?”
“Awkward small talk over dinner, forced activity to make us bond, awkward do I or don’t I kiss her dance at the end of the night.”
“There’s a dance?”
“Huh?”
“You said a do or don’t you kiss me dance? You got an eight count for me at the end of the night? Because I could be down for that,” she laughed.
“Cute. Like I was saying, I’m using home court advantage…and hopefully, providing a space in which you are comfortable as well.”
Soon we were at my garage and as we turned in Celena turned to look at me with a curious look in her eye.
“We’re coming…here? To your garage?” she said, sounding completely perplexed as to what kind of activity we would get into in this place.
“I asked you to trust me, right? I know it’s going to take a lil minute, but I’m hoping this’ll be a step in the right direction. Let’s go.”
We exited my truck, heading into the building through the side door. We walked through the customer waiting area instead the main area of the garage with the work bays. The shop wasn’t extremely large, only about six bays—with a few cars left overnight that the guys were expected to fix up over the remainder of the weekend. I grabbed Celena’s hand leading her to the final bay where my other car, a 1966 cherry red Chevy Impala, was halfway jacked up. I’d planned on doing some routine maintenance on it tomorrow, but decided to use it as an instrument of teaching tonight.
Celena let out a low whistle as we approached the car. She let go of my hand, moving closer to my pride and joy, slowing running her hands along the curve of the car from hood to bumper. She made a slow circle around the car, peering into the windows, and then looking back at me.
“Excuse my French, but this car is fucking gorgeous, Karim. Your guys did this?”
“This is all me sweetheart. Rehabbed from a rusting piece of junk on its last legs to the glorious looking vehicle you see in front of you today?”
“Word?”
“Word.”
She looked slightly impressed.
“I thought you just ran the place. I didn’t think a pretty boy like you actually got your hands dirty.”
“Pretty boy? You wound me,” I said, clutching my chest.
Celena laughed, shaking her head at my dramatic antics. Just the response I’d hoped to get. I reached into my pocket, grabbing the Impala’s key. “Heads up,” I called out while I tossed the keys in Celena’s direction, impressed when she caught them with one hand.
I gave her a brief round of applause to which she rolled her eyes.
“Start her up and let her run for a few minutes. I’ll be right back,” I said, walking across the garage to the storage room where we kept the extra coveralls. I put on my backup pair and grabbed the smallest set I could find for Celena to use. When I walked back over to the car, Celena had started it up and was bent over checking out the interior. I took full advantage of the view.
“You’re doing that weird staring thing again,” she called over her shoulder, having sensed my approach.
“How do you do that?”
“You have a heavy walk, Karim. You’d be a terrible ninja,” she said, leaning further into the backseat to check out the custom stitching on the rear leather seats. “Stop gawking at my ass!”
“You make it kinda hard not to in that position…”
She straightened up and turned to face me with a mock scowl on her face. I handed her the coveralls, “Put these on. Let’s get to work.”
“Work?”
“Yeah, I’m gonna teach you how to change oil.”
“So you weren’t playing when you said we were gonna get dirty, huh?”
“Nope. Suit up.”
While Celena was putting on the coveralls, I went and grabbed the necessary supplies we would need to complete the task at hand. Once I had everything assembled, I turned off the car and engaged the parking break. Then I began to jack the car up with the handheld trolley jack. I decided to go with this and not the automatic one for superficial reasons. Not gonna lie, I wanted to seem like the man, so I wasn’t above a lil manual labor to work up a sweat and show off my guns while she watched from the sidelines. After jacking the car up to the proper height and securing it on the jack stands, I motioned for Celena to come around the back of the car with me. The rear tires were still in the restraints from some work
I was doing earlier in the week, but I double-checked them to ensure that they were properly secured. Satisfied that the car was completely secured, I began the lesson.
“So are you ready?”
“Ok, so not to sound like a total princess, but…” Celena started off, “Am I going to have to get down there?” She pointed gingerly at the floor, which was covered in all manner of dirt and grease.
“Yes, bu
t that’s what this creeper,” I said, gesturing toward one of the six wheeled, metal framed contraptions I’d pulled over to our area, “is for. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. First we start with opening the hood.”
“Oh! That’s easy, I can do that,” Celena said with a grin.
She walked to the driver side to disengage the latch that would unlock the hood. I hadn’t expected her to jump right in, with the hands-on approach, but I wasn’t mad about it at all. After disengaging the hood lock, she moved to the front of the car, searching for the latch that would completely raise the hood. I stood back, letting her do her thing. It took her a little while to find the latch, but eventually she got it, propping the hood open.
“All right, now what?” she said, turning back to me—eyes shining bright.
She seemed very pleased with herself so far, which, if I was being completely honest was a helluva turn on. She operated with an air of confidence despite, as far as I knew, having zero experience working on cars.
“Do you think you can find the oil cap? Or you want me to step in,” I said, teasing her slightly.
“I…think I got this. You can be my…what’s the mechanic’s version of a sous chef?”
“Assistant,” I deadpanned.
“That works,” Celena smirked, “go grab a rag so you can mop my brow when the work is too strenuous.”
“All right now, Ms. Fix It. Once you find the oil cap, remove it and place it on the tray.”
Peering under the hood, she located the oil cap quickly, following my instructions.
“Boom! Nailed it. Now what?”
“Now you get down and dirty,” I said, wriggling my eyebrows lecherously.
That comment earned me another eye roll, followed up by a wary glance.
“Ok, so I know you said that little creep creep thingy was supposed to keep me from getting too gross, but…do you have like a shower cap or something I can put over my hair? I’m not tryna look like a for real grease ball. I commend your attempt to clean it off a little, but…that’s still mad dirty, Karim.”
I certainly did not even think about anything to protect her head. Had this been preplanned and not an off the cuff last minute decision I may have been better prepared, but now I had to find something already in the building to compensate. After thinking about it for a few minutes, I finally remembered we had protective boot coverings in the supply room. We rarely used them; most of us hardly ever wore shoes we actually cared about on the garage floor, so there were sure to be plenty. Now whether or not they would actually work as head coverings would be a different story.
