by Nia Arthurs
“Stop laughing,” I scolded, withholding a smirk because, if the roles were reversed, I’d be laughing at him too.
“Come on,” he grabbed my hand and helped me out of his vehicle, “let’s get you upstairs before my car can do any more damage.”
I followed his lead and after alarming his car with the key fob, Peyton followed me up the stairs. Given my body’s response to his innocent appraisal of my leg, I didn’t need him touching me anywhere as I climbed the stairs. I had a very distinct impression of how I wanted to go and I didn’t want it to be for something as unoriginal as falling down the stairs.
I quickly unlocked the door and headed straight for the kitchen to take out a frozen pack of breadcrumbs from the freezer. The bump on my head was throbbing like crazy and it was giving me a headache. Peyton saw my sorry form leaning against the counter in pain. With a look of concern, he grasped my hand and led me to the living room.
“Come here,” he said before putting his arms around me and giving me a hug.
I leaned in to his side and closed my eyes, willing the throbbing to calm in my head and my heart. Peyton smoothed back my hair and asked,
“Are you feeling a bit better now?” I nodded once because I found that I was. Peyton was here. Everything was okay.
I sat up, but Peyton kept his arms securely around my shoulders, “What are you doing here?” I asked.
He let me go and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “I got your apology this morning.”
I straightened. I didn’t give out apologies often and referring to them out loud made me uncomfortable. He grasped my hand and turned to face me. I tensed, waiting for him to say something hurtful or embarrassing.
“Did I ever tell you that I used to play baseball when I was younger?”
“Baseball, wow,”
Most Caribbean countries don’t put much stock in baseball as a sport. We play forms of softball and cricket, but that’s as baseball-ish as we go. Now if Peyton had said basketball…
“Baseball was everything. I loved to play it and my best friend Joshua Hamilton and I trained all summer to get into the junior varsity team in middle school.”
This little run down memory lane was sweet but I wasn’t seeing the point. I smiled encouragingly anyway. He squeezed my hand.
“Joshua was an amazing pitcher, but he didn’t get chosen for the team.”
“Poor Joshua. Why didn’t he get chosen? He was black wasn’t he?” I guessed.
Peyton cut me a knowing look, “No, he was Mexican.”
I nodded in understanding, “What did you do?”
“I quit the team. I couldn’t work with people who could be so unfair.”
“Is that why you got mad at me? Did you think I was being prejudiced?”
“I wasn’t mad at you exactly. And even though you’re probably going to use this against me one day, you need to know that I could never stay mad at you.” I looked away as his sweet words wove a spell about me, “But there are some ideas that you have about race and love that scare me a bit and I needed to get over that. Do you understand?”
“I guess I do. And I’m trying, I really am.”
Peyton tugged me close and hugged me again, “That’s all anyone can ask.” He soothed.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Peyton had very strict instructions to come straight over as soon as the concert was finished. I’d bought the tickets from a connection that I had with the organizer of the performance and I’d warned my friend that if I did not find his behind in my couch the minute he dropped Maggie home, I would walk all the way to his house, break in, and turn on all the house lights. I was dead serious. His bemused expression didn’t bode well, but if he crossed me he’d see just how crazy I was.
Thankfully, Friday was one of my busiest days so I didn’t have time to think about Maggie and Peyton for most of the day. I was grateful for the spike in my profits. If this continued, I could almost afford an appointment with a contractor to talk about installing a window display. Hey, it was better than nothing. The light outside dimmed as the sun returned to its bed in the horizon. Evening quickly approached and I rushed to the bus stop, flanked by the ever stern-faced Estefan. Despite his silent treatment, I’d learned to appreciate the burly security guard’s taciturn, but alert presence. I boarded and waved goodbye.
The bus rolled at its own annoying turtle-ish pace. As evening buses are prone to do, it filled quickly and I was glad that I at least had a seat and that no little old ladies or pregnant women were standing. I had a give-up-my-seat tendency and it sucked on days like today when my feet were killing me. I plugged in my ear phones to sound proof the squalling babies and tired mothers trying to shush them. This was not the day for magic. I was tired. I could only imagine how much fun Peyton and Maggie were having tonight. A little part of me shuddered at the thought of the two hitting it off. I’d have to share Peyton with someone else. A funny feeling erupted in my stomach. We had a nice little friendship going. Quickly, I reminded myself that Charles was an amazing guy and I was lucky to have him. Wanting Peyton in my life was like having my cake and eating it too.
I pressed through the bodies as I made my way to the bus doors, paid and stepped off. I walked slowly to my apartment. My cute small heeled ankle boots were the wrong move today, especially since I’d lost my fold-up party slippers. When I at last entered my apartment, I headed straight for the couch and relaxed into it. I couldn’t wait to go over the profits sales over the past month. Things had really taken off for Mia’s Designs. After a few minutes of resting, I peeled myself off of the couch and decided to take a long warm shower. I grabbed my hair cap and turned on the hot water. The droplets beat on my tired muscles and when I finally emerged from the shower, I felt a hundred times better. I changed into a tank top and gym shorts, cracking open a bag of Oreos to occupy myself until Peyton stopped by.
Sometime after ten I fell asleep only waking up when I heard a knock at the door. Groggily, I got up, opened the door and greeted Peyton.
“Hey beautiful,” he said with a huge smile.
“Mph,” I replied blearily.
Peyton stepped in and closed the door behind him.
I returned to the couch, passing the mirror as I went. I double backed at the reflection I made there. The left side of my face had a very intricate pattern that was similar to the fibers of my sofa. I laughed,
“You doof,” I accused Peyton, “Why didn’t you tell me?” I pointed to my face. He disguised a cackle behind a cough.
“It’s cute. Maybe you could start a trend.”
I shook my head at his silliness and joined him on the couch, wide awake now.
“So, tell me everything. Start at her outfit. What was she wearing?”
Peyton’s expression reflected confusion. He scrunched his nose in a way that said he found my question kind of stupid. “I don’t know what she was wearing. It was a dress. I think it was red.”
“Wow that was strangely detailed.”
“Thank you.”
“Okay, moving on. Did you make any moves during the concert?”
Peyton grinned. He was enjoying himself right now, “I held her hand when they sang Waguchi Bungui.”
Waguchi Bungui is “Our Father” in a Garifuna. The Garinagu people are a cultural group in Belize. They sing the Our Father prayer by linking pinkies and bowing at the waist, moving up and down with the African drum beat.
“That doesn’t count.”
“It counts to me.”
“Because you’re a dork.” I teased, “Did you kiss her?”
“I don’t kiss and tell.”
I cracked my neck slowly, facing the ceiling in supplication. Peyton was the most annoying person I had ever met.
“Well, do you think I made the right choice? Is she as great as she sounded on Facebook?”
“She’s nice.” Peyton agreed.
“So I won the deal!” I got up and did a happy dance.
“Well…” Peyton int
oned.
“Well what?”
“She’s great,” he quipped, “but in a ‘just-friends’ kind of way.”
I stopped shaking my rump to stare at him, dumbfounded.
“You can’t be serious.”
He smiled, “Don’t feel bad. She’s a sweet person so it’s no wonder that you felt a good vibe about her. But she’s just not ‘The One’.”
I defended, “Well, you can barely decide that from one concert.”
“I can.” He said firmly, “The day you met Charles you asked me if it was possible to look at someone and know you were looking at your future. I don’t see my future when I look at Maggie.”
I scowled. “Who came up with this stupid deal anyway?” I grouched.
Peyton opened his mouth to point out that as a matter of fact I was the one who dreamed up the ridiculous dare, but I narrowed my eyes at him and quickly snapped, “Don’t answer that.”
“If it makes you feel any better we can call it something other than a date.”
“No,” I declared, “You held up your end of the deal and I’ll hold mine. We’re going on a date.”
“What about Charles?”
“I don’t know.” I said, feeling suddenly guilty and not knowing why. I’m an independent woman and I knew I didn’t need Charles’ permission to hang out with one of my closest friends. On the other hand, I would not approve if the shoe was on the other foot and Charles and an insanely gorgeous woman went out on the town for an evening and called it a ‘non-date’.
“If you feel uncomfortable we can scrap it.”
“No. We had a deal. Basically we’ll chill; just not in my apartment.” I rationalized.
“If you’re sure…”
“I am.”
“Okay.”
We awkwardly turned toward the television and stared the black screen down as if it had the most amazing show premiering.
“Hey,” I finally broke the silence. He turned to face me with a questioning gaze. “I really want to faurt right now.”
Peyton burst into laughter “And… that’s my cue to leave.”
“What? You don’t want to stick around and have a competition?”
“Uh-no.”
“Wimp!” I called after him as he collected his jacket and headed for the door, “Good night, Mia. Try not to suffocate on your own wind.”
“I’ll try!” I yelled after him as he closed the door. I grinned softly in the ensuing quiet. I felt no shame and let loose a nice and comfortable stinker. If Peyton were here he would have laughed and forced one out. Last time he tried that, he got so red I could barely restrain the laughter that wracked my stomach. I loved that I could joke about faurts, poop, and burping in front of that guy. Why would I want to pass that up for the complications and awkwardness of a relationship? We’d go on a date and then revert right back to our comfortable friendship. It was worth too much to do anything else.
Peyton wasted no time in setting up our outing. I woke up to a text on Sunday morning that audaciously instructed me to dress warm and be ready for 6 p.m. When we met up in the lobby of the Holy Ghost Gym later that morning, we exchanged secret smiles. When the worship team started doing their thing in preparation for morning worship, Spencer, Melody, Peyton, and I sat in our usual row behind the rest of the Reyes family. I checked Melody’s ring finger and frowned at its nakedness. I’d have to torture Spencer’s engagement proposal date out of Peyton. I was getting antsy and my friend was getting old.
I noticed Archie grabbing a guitar. That was new. The unofficial Reyes boy had only recently joined Holy Ghost Gym. I sent him a little wave when he looked our way. He nodded at me. My phone vibrated. The notification heading revealed that it was a text from Charles. I swiped to unlock the phone and read the message.
HERE, it read.
I got up and made my way out of the pew to greet Charles at the back of the church. I was surprised to see him. We hadn’t decided on any official date for visiting each other’s churches. He was Mr. Smooth in a dashing gray button-down shirt and black pants. He gave me a kiss on the cheek when I walked up to him.
“Hi. It’s good to see you. I had no idea you were coming this Sunday.”
“Yeah, I decided to come see what all the fuss was about.”
“Great. Uh, come on then,” I led him down the aisle to the row where my friends sat. The service was starting so I couldn’t spare any long introductions. Charles slid in after me at the end of the pew. I found myself squished beside both Peyton and Charles, a very awkward place to be. Charles rested his arm on my chair back while Pastor Stanley gave the benediction. I stiffened and sat straight and tall in my seat. When the worship team struck up the first soca rhythm and we stood, I couldn’t get down like I really wanted to. Throughout the rest of the service, I remained in a dazed state, refusing to look either left or right. Charles rubbed my shoulder during the closing prayer and I could feel Peyton boring me with his eyes as soon as Pastor Stanley said ‘amen’ but I refused to meet the gaze of either man.
Unfortunately, I was left with the awkward task of introducing Charles to Peyton who had only heard of him in my descriptions.
“Peyton, Charles. Charles, this is my good friend Peyton.”
They shook hands. Charles seemed oblivious to the vibe that Peyton was throwing his way, but I could clearly see that Peyton had tried and judged my guy and found him lacking. Quickly, I moved and pointed to my best friend and her boyfriend.
“That’s Melody and Spencer,”
“Hey man,” Spencer let go of Mel’s hand to shake Charles’. Melody sent him a wave in greeting and smiled. “You two are coming over for Sunday dinner?”
“Nah,” Charles held me close to his side, “I was hoping to steal Mia away this afternoon.”
I caught Peyton’s gaze and sent a line of apology through my eyes.
“Oh, no problem.” Melody said cheerily, but Charles would have made a better impression if he’d stayed.
Mr. and Mrs. Reyes stepped up to our little group and noticed the possessive way that Charles held me.
“Excuse me Mia,” Mr. Reyes addressed Charles, “Does someone else have an appointment with my shot gun?”
I laughed, “Mr. Rey, this is Charles. Charles this is Mr. and Mrs. Reyes, Melody’s parents.”
Charles shook both their hands. “Wonderful service here. It’s a bit different than what I’m used to.”
“That’s fine, son. A little different is just what this world needs.”
Charles nodded respectfully and made small talk with my friends and extended family as we slowly but surely directed our steps towards the exit. After promising that he’d come to dinner if he could next week, Charles and I made our way to the car.
“You look beautiful, Mia,” he enthused when we were alone in the cab of the truck.
“Thank you,” I acknowledged. I was looking rather nice in a blue shirtwaist tucked into a flirty but modest black skirt.
“What did you really think about the service?” I asked.
“It was okay. Like I said, I’m not excited about this whole Kingdom idea. I think it only confuses people but at least the Preacher Man was into it.”
His reply did not satisfy me and I wondered if Charles was really a part of the Kingdom of God at all. Instead of voicing my thoughts and causing a conflict, I remained silent.
“Hey after lunch today, do you want to go back home and change for church tonight or will you go in that? Not that you need to change.”
“Actually, I can’t go with you tonight. I already promised a friend that I’d hang out with him.”
“Him?”
“Yes, it’s Peyton. We had a deal and I lost so I’m paying him what I owe.”
“What, with your time? Look babe, what am I supposed to think? You and this white man are all over Facebook and he’s always hanging out with you. Are you dating the both of us?”
“He’s just a friend.” I defended. I understood where Charles was coming fro
m but I didn’t like his tone.
“’Just a friend’ my backside. Do you think I’m stupid?”
“I know you’re not stupid. But you can trust me. There is nothing going on between me and Peyton.”
Charles parked in front of the restaurant and shut the engine. His nose flared angrily and his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly even though we were not in motion. For a moment, I felt afraid, unsure of what he would do.
“I’ve heard the talk about you.”
“Excuse me?” I voiced, affronted.
Why do men never stop when they’re already behind? The moment I said “excuse me” was the hint for Charles to shut the heck up. But he didn’t.
“People whisper about Mia Johnson and all the men she’s been with. And you know what, my mom stuck up for you. She believed in you, told me what a nice woman you are, what a changed woman.” He scoffed.
The car was too small for if I’d had more room, I would have slapped him.
“Thank you for telling me how you really feel Charles.” I angrily tore open the door and slammed it shut, “I’ll find my own way home. I wouldn’t want people to see us together and start talking. At least you won’t have to worry about that!”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I started walking in my church heels. My fold-up slippers were in my work purse so my feet would have to suck it up and take me somewhere. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you look at it, I was in the general vicinity of my family home. As I stomped down the street, where I’d ridden my first bike, had my first birthday party and made my first friend, my rage slowly seeped away. This was my turf. This was my people. This street was home.
I waved a hand toward Ms. Honey who was sitting on her wooden stairs platting her youngest daughter’s hair as she squirmed on the lower step. Ms. Honey baked bread and buns and that’s how she supported her children. Every evening, she’d get on her bike and pedal slowly yelling “Bread and bun, bread and bun,” to her customers. Ms. Honey has never been married but she has five children that look nothing alike and every one of them grew up under manners. As I continued, I spotted Keneisha standing in her yard talking over the fence to a tall young man with acne. She wore shorts that were suffocating her butt cheeks and a large tattoo stained her right shoulder and collarbone. I remembered when Kenny was a baby. Her mother would ask me to watch her when she left to go work at Queen’s casino as a waitress. Kenny was only seventeen, but her face was hard. Her eyes were open. She wasn’t the baby I used to take care of anymore. I waved sadly at her. She pretended not to see me.
