The Rhyme of Love (Love in Rhythm & Blues Book 2)

by Love Belvin

  “But you did,” Ivie clarified.

  “Yeah we did.”

  Mya’s chin dipped, in search of understanding. “And it was good?”

  “It was the most passionate thing I ever experienced in my life. Like…I would never have dick like that again.” I cringed on a long exhale. “I’m sure.”

  “Well, fuck that!” Ivie glared. “We gone figure this out.”

  I shook my head, eyes closed as I was now feeling the magic of Mauve. “That’s not why I’m telling you guys. I only came clean because I don’t want you being a part of the lie. Like…that’s why I stayed away all those months. It’s why you didn’t hear from me. And I will not allow him to bring you guys into this under the guise of being a co-conspirator to something that isn’t even real.”

  “Fuck ‘im.” Ivie’s head swayed softly, her mouth turned up in anger. “Fuck ‘im! Go fuck Teke. He cute and ‘bout to be popping with B City.”

  I rolled my eyes. She was knocking on drunk’s door.

  “Well, I don’t think this is fake now. I think it’s real,” Mya spoke up, eyes bouncing around the solarium. “I think this is very much real, no matter what he said today about him being the reason you soared in boot camp. I spoke to him myself to arrange everything, and this time I could feel the pain in his voice. I should have known something was up. But I ignored it, not really knowing the guy.”

  “Yeah.” I rolled my eyes. “And that part.”

  Ivie’s eyes fell upon me. “What about that part?”

  I took a deep breath. “He said he fell in love with me.”

  “Ahhhhhh!” an incredible roar shot from Ivie’s belly as she shouted, her arms flaying in the air again. “Bullshit!”

  “No!” Mya’s voice was unusually strong, drawing my attention to her. “I believe it. Why is that impossible?”

  Ivie and I shot daggers into Mya’s naïve regard. No one had faith in Mya’s opinion about relationships period. She was the most sensitive and gullible out of the three of us.

  Ignoring that argument, Ivie charged, “Don’t start with that bullshit!” she warned with fervor. “It’s that illuminati bullshit! Don’t do it. Don’t do it!”

  I rolled my eyes again.

  “No,” Mya continued her fight. “It’s not about ‘Mya being naïve.’ If you’ve not listened to the details of her story,” her hand pointed toward me, “this was very much a legitimate relationship. She gave herself to him, too. I heard that single Ragee just dropped. It reeks of sensual passion!”

  “Wynter’s a freak!” Ivie avowed. “She can give him the voodoo punani. A good fuck don’t mean nothing to her. You know this!”

  Is she calling me a whore?

  “No.” Mya pressed on. “There was more that happened, and I’m sure we’re not hearing the whole story.” Mya eyed me keenly and I returned it, just not as confidently. “And I’m not asking for the uncut story because that’s between you and your husband, but I’m willing to bet you’re in love with him, too.”

  Ivie tossed herself against the back of the chair again and swung her arms open wide. “Ugh! This bitch with this happily ever after bullshit,” she grunted.

  “No,” Mya began her response with the same word again. “I don’t want to know. That’s not me asking for more or for you to admit anything. I just want you to be real with yourself. And if he’s in love with you, I think you need to really consider your next move because the contract can be legal, but so is your marriage license. It’s real. So if you want it, you better think long and hard—without your hyper-hungry pussy—about your next steps.”

  ~9~

  Word on the street is Ragee got into a fight with Teke from B City. STHT’s connect in Cedars-Sinai said Teke’s face looked like a Mack truck it hit. No police reports have been filed, but I wonder how far this will go. And we all know the reason. #McKinnonGirl

  The hell…

  My entire frame tensed on the couch.

  “Bitch, you ‘bout to wait! I’mma get my full time in!” Van’s growling in my ear to another inmate snapped me out of my shock.

  It’s out. The fight… The public knows about it. Shit!

  “You there, Wyn?”

  With squeezed eyes and after a long exhale, I nodded. “Yeah, Van. I’m here. You barking at people? After the day you’ve had in court today you better be on your best fucking behavior.”

  “Nah. That’s this nigga that’s always starting shit up in here, but he know. I’ll knock his punk ass the fuck out,” he grumbled more to himself. “Anyway, you told MaMa, right?”

  “No. I told Wanda. Called her as I walked out of the courthouse. She said she was gonna tell MaMa.”

  “Why ain’t you? That woulda been a better look coming from you.”

  With my legs curled underneath me, I lay the iPad on my lap and pushed my head into the sofa. “Because I’m tired of trying. Tired period. I got so much shit on my plate, I’m willing to forfeit this thing with her. At some point, I gotta accept her for who she is. I have to respect her position. It’s been over ten years now, Van. She’s keeping her stance. It’s time for me to finally get my…place,” A cry croaked and I barely caught it.

  “You…” he hesitated. “You crying, Wynter?”

  Tears slipped.

  “So what if I am?” I tried sounding tougher than I felt.

  Van was quiet for a while. That helped me regain myself.

  “It’s just that I ‘on’t think I ever seen you cry.” Another long pause. “I ‘on’t think you cried at Daddy’s funeral…”

  Because I didn’t.

  “I’m fine, Van. Let’s move on.”

  “Nah the fuck you ain’t. Since when yo ass start crying an’ shit?”

  “I’m married!” I charged. “Of course, I cry.”

  “But you said everything’s good witchu and ol’ boy.”

  “I’m married, Van.” And so happy you’re coming home so I can have my confidant back…

  “You good with him?” His tone was threatening.

  I sniffled, dropped my feet to the floor, and straightened to lean over to place the tablet on the coffee table where my laptop and stack of bills were.

  “I’m perfectly fine. We need to find out about your job because just like your lawyer said, there’s some fines and fees associated with your minor charges and release.”

  “Yeah. You right. I’mma have MaMa call about that tomorrow. In the meantime, you good on my party?”

  I rolled my eyes. More money…

  “I don’t believe in welcome home parties, but I’m doing this for you. It’ll be something simple, though. We have to get you back to work, Van. That’ll be the biggest success to your release.”

  “I know! I know! It’s gone be some low, low type shit. But just something to get all my peoples together at once. Man, Wyn I miss all y’all. You the only one I feel like been here with me through this shit because you that one for me. But even other people I’m tight with. I just gotta see all my peoples—my kids in one place to remind me of who I am—was before this shit.”

  I nodded. “I get it. Just walk out of those gates without any problems, Van.”

  “I gotchu. I’mma get you fucked up, too. When I get fucked up, you gone be right there with me. But I’mma leave with some pussy. Hope you able to keep up.” He thought quick. “And I ‘on’t mean it the same way, witcha nasty ass, Wyn!” he barked again.

  I shook my head. “I don’t understand why the people closest to me call me nasty.”

  “Speaking of that: Ragee coming through. Right?”

  My belly did a nose dive again at that mention. I could feel my face contort. “I doubt it. He’s getting ready for his tour.” I took a deep breath, rolling the tension from my neck. “And I gotta go. Wanda’s coming over and I need to address my bills at some point now that I’m back.”

  My errant curiosity had me tapping on the iPad again, opening Instagram.

  “Oh, you good on that front.”

  Going
down the comments in search of the page’s responses to them, I chuckled with sarcasm. “Not until you get back to work and I find another job, I’m not.”

  The line beeped and the automated voice informed us of having twenty seconds left.

  “You good with that, baby girl. I thought you knew. I’ll holla at you in a couple of days.”

  “Okay,” I half way heard.

  “Oh, and Wynter!” his voice had added bass. “Call MaMa! Y’all gone have to talk for the party anyway!”

  As I offered a noncommittal, “Yeah,” the line disconnected.

  My search was in vain, but I saw Spilling That Hot Tea posted again. It was an update to the last one about Raj and Teke. According to their source, Raj and Teke fought two nights ago at a bar in West Hollywood where L.I.T. Music threw a party for its staff. Supposedly, Ragee got mad because Teke was asked to sing and I was “too” into his performance and Raj blew a gasket and went into a full on rage, beating Teke to a pulp, the B City guys jumped in and fought Raj.

  Oddly, that false story made me feel slightly better. It helped me understand this blog didn’t have a telescopic view into my personal life.

  It had been over twenty-four hours since I returned to the East Coast and I had yet to speak to anyone from boot camp. Not only was I too embarrassed to, I’d been busy with re-sorting my own life.

  As promised, my car was available this morning, parked down in one of Raj’s assigned spots in the garage. I was able to make it to the courthouse and sit through other cases until Van’s came up. Seeing him shuffling into the room shackled like an animal made my stomach lurch. The only relief from that place was hearing the judge agree to the motions for dismissals on most of the erroneous shit they tried to pin on him. Van could be released in less than two weeks. That piece of victory was assuaging.

  After court, I ran over to one of his babies’ mother’s house to check in and make sure she saw me in the flesh as a sign of support in his absence. It was still late morning, which meant the kids were still in school. I’d have to arrange time with them soon. They were by different women and therefore needed to be collected and brought together to interface with each other, something Van was good at. I’d do it at least once before his release.

  Next, I made a trip over to Ivie’s job to make up for standing her up at the airport yesterday. She brought it up last night as they were preparing to leave. Although she then knew the story, I still felt bad about it. So, I brought over food from her favorite Spanish restaurant, and we chowed down in her small office.

  Taking a deep breath, I was now exhausted—mentally and physically—thanks to feeling jet-lagged. As I reached up to scratch my itchy scalp, I was reminded of my desperate need of a hair appointment. This weave had to come out. The problem was I’d become addicted to ShawnNicole’s professional services and the inviting and spa-like atmosphere at the Hair Lounge in the City. It didn’t take long for me to learn why Myisha went so hard on my weave installation when we first met. Her skills were award-winningly unparalleled and bedside manner was that of your girl next door. Accoutrements I couldn’t afford with my dwindling savings. In another month, there’d be no savings to speak of.

  My eyes scrolled down to my awaiting bills next to the open laptop, I was prepared to pay the minimum on them again online. I wondered why I hadn’t received my student loan bill email on schedule earlier this week. The moment I plopped down on my knees to log into my email, the elevator bell rang.

  I glanced up from the coffee table.

  Already?

  While toeing toward the foyer, I could hear the doors opening up.

  “This fancy, Mommy!” I heard the familiar trill of a child.

  My face opened as wide as my heart expanded and I moved faster. Upon my approach, I could see their heads were lifted and eyes bouncing against the large gold framed artwork hanging from the tall black walls. Their bodies reflected in the shiny checkerboard marble floors. Wanda was holding a folded B-Way Burger paper bag and Asia’s legs seemed to have doubled in height, though I knew it was impossible. But man, what a difference a few months away from family could do!

  “You’re going to be able to fit into your momma’s shoes soon, missy!” I extended my arms as I stretched them wide for Asia.

  She smiled, but not as unbridled as I was accustomed to from her. In fact, her lackluster demeanor was not what I’d gotten from her over the phone recently. Miss Asia hugged me back, but not too long and she didn’t speak, only giggled.

  I pulled back, still holding her at the arms. “What’s the dealy, yo?”

  She chewed on her bottom lip as she smiled. “Nothing.” Her eyes kept sweeping up and around.

  “This place is bad!” Wanda whistled from above me.

  Oh!

  “Is that why you’re acting shy? Because you’re in a new environment?” I asked Asia as I held her by the arms. “You think I’m new because this place is to us?”

  “No,” she chirped rapidly.

  I didn’t believe her, though. Asia had never been so subdued with me.

  “You been crying about wanting to see Wynter. Now you here and acting shy, Asia?”

  “No.” Asia was just as quick with that syllable.

  I stood to my feet and took her by the hand. “Come on. Let’s go to the kitchen. You got some good food, I see.”

  “I got some for you, too,” Wanda announced behind me. “I know you love their double cheese.”

  “You look skinny,” Asia finally exposed her true nature.

  I turned to her and blushed. “I know, right? I lost weight because I gave up B-Way Burger.” Then I peered over to Wanda, whose eyes I still hadn’t caught as she scoped the place out. “Sorry. I’ll pass. Mya and Ivie brought some yesterday in a moment of my weakness.” Wanda didn’t respond, still lost in exploration.

  We arrived into the kitchen where I took Asia’s jacket and gave Wanda a plate for her food. Once we were all seated, Asia began to eat her cheeseburger and onion rings.

  “Your hair looks great, girl,” I complimented Asia.

  “We just left Ms. Tootie’s from getting it braided,” Wanda shared. “You believe she went up to fifty-five dollars now?” She sucked her teeth.

  “She must be popping now,” I joked. “Anyway. So, how are you?”

  “I’m good.”

  My brows lifted. “Things didn’t work out in PA?”

  Wanda shook her head. “I’m over him.”

  “No, you ain’t,” Miss Asia garbled.

  “Watch your business, Asia!” Wanda scolded.

  Asia rolled her eyes and pulled out her device to escape into. I couldn’t stop gaping at her new mature appearance. Had it been that long?

  “I told MaMa about the party. She said we gotta have it at her place.”

  “Oh, okay.” It was fine, seeing her place was bigger than Van’s first baby mother’s.

  “She said we should buy a grill to barbeque some food. It should be warm enough.”

  I nodded. “If not, people could stay inside and whoever’s manning the grill can stay out there with it.”

  “Yeah. She want Sheldon to do it.”

  At hearing her mother inform me of that, Asia’s eyes cut to me. Wanda stayed busy toying with her cuticles. Apparently she had a hangnail.

  I tried playing it off. “That’s cool!” I breathed, convincingly. “She talk about who’s paying for what?”

  “She asked. She said she wanna do the salads, but that’s it.”

  “That’s it, huhn?” I sat back and considered that.

  “I can do drinks, but not alcohol. I’ll bring water, juice, and soda. My money’s tight, tryna find us a place to stay out here.”

  I nodded. “How’s work?”

  That concerned me about Wanda. It wasn’t exactly ideal or safe for a forty-seven year old to jump around in employment. Wanda had been at the bank for close to ten years now. She had gained her legs in terms of being vested.

  “I didn’t get my s
ame location back, but they got me in Newark. I hate that shit. It’s too much of a commute for one, and the branch ain’t in the safest place.”

  I nodded again.

  “I’m just glad you’re working. That’s independence.” My eyes skirted quickly over to Asia, fastened to her device as she stuffed an onion ring into her mouth. “I’m really sorry things didn’t work out between you two this time. Relationships are hard.”

  One side of her mouth lifted warmly. “I’mma be alright. I just gotta focus on me and my daughter now.”

  “You be kissing your husband?” Asia shot out of nowhere.

  My forehead tightened. “I think that’s what marriage is. Right? Kissing and fighting.”

  “Well, Mommy and Daddy kissed and fought and they ain’t married.”

  Wanda grunted, holding her head in her hands as she closed her eyes. “Be quiet and eat, Asia.” Then her torso popped up. “Oh! I forgot. Your mail I got yesterday from the P.O. Box.”

  That’s why they were over. She went for her jacket and pulled out a few mail pieces from the inner pocket. I’d forget about the P.O. Box from time to time, because most of my bills and other communications came electronically. I’d gotten the mailbox not too long after I moved in with MaMa and them because I didn’t always get my mail from her address. It would get lost somewhere in the house and sometimes couldn’t be located for weeks. When Wanda and Asia moved in with me, I allowed her to use the P.O. Box and gave her a key. She’d pretty much taken over it similar to the way I gave her dominate share of my apartment.

  Just as I was about to toss the mail to the side and catch up with Asia, the bank’s name who held my biggest student loan caught my eye. The envelope was thin—unusually thin, subconsciously causing me to grab it. Wanda’s phone chirped, and she began addressing it.

  My mouth dropped after I read the first two lines then skipped down to the tables filled with numbers. The balance of my loan was zero dollars?