by Love Belvin
“He hasn’t in a few months, actually.”
“Does he want to?”
“All the time,” she answered right away, her voice low, cautious.
“But you don’t want him to?” Jade shook her head. My face wrinkled, trying to understand. “Because he doesn’t provide for him?”
She shook her head again. “You know the only way I can get you to converse with interest is if it concerns Kyree.”
“Are you calling me a perv on the low?”
“I’ve ruled that out,” she shared with a straight face.
My eyes went wild then I recouped. “Oh, a’ight. Well, now that you know I don’t get off on little boys, I guess I can explain how the little homie reminds me a lot of myself.”
She inched into the table, clearly interested in what I had to say. “How so?”
“When I played ball as a kid, a little older than him, I played with motives deeper than just winning.”
“Like what?”
“To prove to someone I could be good at something.” I shrugged. “And other times to escape what was happening on the outside.”
She dropped her chin. “Like at home?” Her tone was suspicious.
I chuckled, sensing her apprehension. She thought I was accusing her of being a bad mother. “I’m not going social worker on you. I’m just telling you what I see and why I like the kid. And I especially want you to know I’m no perv—”
An alarm went off in my head. Thinking of deviant personality traits reminded me of something.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Shit…” I mumbled. “I just remembered I got a paper due…” I checked the time. Thirty minutes before midnight. I pushed from the island. “Thanks for this. I’ll clean up my mess.”
I jumped up to leave the kitchen until I hit the entrance and heard her call out from behind me.
“Wait!” She sat up from the countertop. “A paper? Are you in school?”
A sheepish grin split on my face at that slip.
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“Really? Where?”
“Nothing as fancy as the one you go to.”
“That’s not cool.” She frowned.
I tapped the doorway. “Bergen County College. Like I said, no biggie.”
Before I could step off, she countered, “It is to me.” With a dry smile she offered, “Good for you.”
That morsel of approval from a ballsy petite one did something to me.
~Five
One night, after cleaning the kitchen, I went searching for Kyree to start his bedtime ritual. It was the end of a long day of endless clients at both salons. I had a five-page paper to submit by midnight and hadn’t typed a word of it yet. I sighed, taking off for the back staircase. As I jogged up the steps, I heard Silentó’s “Watch Me.” The tune instantly jumped my spirits in a jovial sphere because, just as it was with every other kid in the country, it was currently Kyree’s favorite.
When I turned for the hidden room, the volume increased to club level, the pronounced bass booming through the speakers. I rested my shoulder on the doorjamb and witnessed the most precious sight I’d seen in a while. A tall ogre build side-by-side with a miniature frame, mimicking the same dance movements. Kyree killed this dance. He got so into it, he angled his head to the side, adding his little swag to it. But next to him, Trent’s lengthy limbs kept in step. In fact, his movements were made with agility and thorough exactness. He even included extra arm swings and neck rolls. I guessed he, too, had mastered the dance.
Not wanting to be left out, I sashayed into the room, rounded the sofa and made my way in front of the dancing duo to begin my rendition of the dance. I wasn’t too bad either; Ky made sure of it when he taught me months ago. I didn’t look back at them, subconsciously waiting for Ky to kick me out or complain about me jumping in front of them. Finally, I joggled around to find Ky moving and smiling at me, happy with my playful state. Then I turned seductively to Trent, going for my best Beyoncé head swing over my right shoulder. He was still cutting the rug on the Stanky Leg, but his eyes were stapled below as his hips moved fluidly. I stumbled when I saw his bottom teeth protruding as he moved. Trent must have caught my missed step because his eyes appeared on me. He frowned with his forehead while grinning, questioning my stupor.
“You cut your beard?”
He nodded coolly before moving on to the next part of the dance, “breaking his legs”, that had escaped me in my dazes. I was looking at Trent’s full face and damn it, he was not only handsome, but caught up in a child’s dance exposing his insouciance. He now had a thin mustache outlining his full luscious lips, curving around into a manicured goatee that was cut with delicate precision to highlight his strong jawline. His virility was on full blast and I was heating in the face.
Holy hell, this man is fine as flying fuck!
“Mom!” Kyree’s cry had me leaping in position and eyes blinking me out of my reverie. “You gotta dance or go!”
He was being fresh, something I’d normally tear into his behind about, but in the moment he was right: I had to leave. If I didn’t I’d be eye-fucking his ogre friend…in front of him.
On my way up the stairs to the second level, I berated myself for lusting over a man trying to help me out in trying times. Trent seemed to be a good guy—the same benevolent man I met on the field. I no longer worried about his motives for helping being perversely linked to Kyree. He may not have been exactly gushing with hospitality for me, but he’d not rushed us out of here. Not only was Trent kind, but apparently he was a Christian man. He went to church faithfully every Sunday morning and Thursday night. I’d wondered what a man his age had been so committed to that was at church. I’d also wondered about his relationship status. He brought no women to his home. There had been no signs of women here. He was twenty-six years old, fine as holy hell, but had no social life outside of church.
Or maybe that’s where his social life is—where she is…
I came into the house, out of breath from my morning run and meditation. My clothes clung to my wet skin while Tye Tribbett blasted in my ears. It was Sunday morning, my most spirited day of the week. It had been for years for two reasons. It was the day of community worship in church and the day where America’s most adored religion was predominantly practiced: football. Either event filled my passion like no other, only one I was naturally inclined to do and the other I struggled every day to get right at. My spiritual life had strengthened over the years. I was fortunate enough to find the right house of worship at a young age and blessed to have a talented leader to connect to. While in prison, the only consistency that followed me in there was my ability to pray freely. Of course, the frequency increased, but so did the intensity. When I was released, I vowed to never stop seeking God. I told Him I wouldn’t stop until I was made perfect in His eyes, and boy, did I have a long way to go.
I panted while I trekked through the back of the house with my palms on my waist. When I stopped at the bottom of the staircase, I shifted to see Kyree coming down. He had on a dress shirt with a tie, slacks, and shoes. I lowered my headphones.
“Where you going, fly man?” I was impressed by his get up.
“With you, to church.”
My neck jerked back and face frowned in surprise. “For real?”
“Yeah. That’s what mommy said. She said we had to get up crazy earlier to make it.” He kept past me, speaking over his shoulder. “I’m going to pack me a snack. I don’t wanna get hungry when we get there.”
I snorted, not believing what I’d just heard before turning back to take up the stairs.
“I hope you don’t mind.” That voice had me stumbling, almost to the landing.
It was Jade, wearing a red blouse and a tan skirt. She had rubber rods twisted in her hair and wore no hosiery or shoes.
I blinked, shocked by this new development in my morning. “Nah. I don’t mind. Just wasn’t expecting to see y’all up this early on a weekend.”
“I didn’t want to miss you. I know you go to the 8 o’clock and 11 o’clock, so figured we should be ready for both. You know, just in case.” She eyed my workout gear.
“Ummmm…” I scratched my brow. “Yeah. Eight o’clock this morning. I was just about to shower so I can be out of here in ‘bout thirty minutes.”
“Okay.” She started down the steps, toward me. “Oh!” she shrieked. “I used your shower this morning. I hope you don’t mind. Ky and I went at the same time.”
“It’s all gravy.” I didn’t know what else to say about that.
A woman using my shower here at the crib.
I offered it to her last week because the one in the room Kyree used was small with no counter space and a tight tub with the shower attached. It just didn’t seem fitting for a woman like Jade. She was small in stature, but there was something royal about her I couldn’t put my finger on, but could sense.
A pretty smile brushed on her lips. They were a pearly pink; a soft color I was sure dulled for the occasion. Jade’s hair and makeup were always on point. A clear diva to me. There was something about her that didn’t add up. She had a model frame—minus the height, stayed slayed with her hair, makeup, and most of the times clothes. But she was here, on hard times. She looked like a groupie, physically, had a lifestyle like an around-the-way girl, and behaved like a debutante. Something was off for sure.
“Okay. I’m just going to make sure he doesn’t make a mess in the kitchen then I’ll finish getting ready myself.”
I nodded, watching her toe around me toward the kitchen. I tried not to, but couldn’t resist. Her fat peach poked in the knee-length skirt, but not as much as I’d seen of it beneath that tight little waist. Taking a deep breath, I took for the steps, reminding myself why I needed Jesus every day to keep me from temptation. Jade would surely get me in trouble.
Service was great as usual. Praise and worship was on point. The choir was rocking so hard, even Kyree stood and performed his two-step. We sat up in the balcony where select members are given more privacy. This wasn’t the case before Ezra switched it up about five years ago. He saw that members and mostly their non-member friends were taking pictures of me, Jeremy Harris from the Giants, Ragee, a known R&B artist, and a few other notable members here at Redeeming Souls for Abundant Living in Christ Church in Harlem, New York. It was a distraction and honestly became a hassle to even attend church. So, he reserved a portion of the balcony for us with security to ensure no lurkers were up here. People think only saints go to church. Wrong. Groupies, hustlers, and reporters frequented services when they had agendas.
Jade sat mostly still throughout praise and worship. She seemed cagey, uncomfortable as her eyes danced all around the sanctuary in between tending to Kyree. When Ezra took the stage I could tell she was captivated, and that didn’t surprise me much. Ezra was dope with his delivery; sophisticated and simplistic at the same time. He broke down the Word clear enough for all to understand. His movements were slow, measured for deep expression. He’d use common concepts people could relate to, add scriptural reference, and top it off with psychological context. That was his thing, his gift. Like this morning, he spoke about believing in yourself when others doubt you. He said the task of knowing yourself and believing in you is a personal and intimate undertaking. He used Job for an example, saying how even his wife and friends told Job to curse God, but he refused to because he was determined to remember God’s majesty and faithfulness. It was a sound resolve that could be shaken, but not broken by others.
He then broke down the psychological effects of poor influences in life. He spoke about people being emotionally underdeveloped and how common it was in our society. He defined personality flaws versus character flaws and how it affects how people interact with each other.
“Personality attributes are what we present to others and how we interface with them,” Ezra rasped, pacing the stage, thrumming beads through his fingers. “These are traits the world identifies us by. Character attributes are a running tally of our behavior and responses to conditions. It is who we are when no one is watching. Your character attributes are your stripes that are difficult to change—it is who you are to the core of you. And so you have your personality and character attributes, you also have your personality and character flaws,” he continued tying his points together.
In the end, God proved Himself, delivered Job, and restored him. What hit me about the biblical story I was already familiar with was how Job’s trial wasn’t about him. It was between God and Satan, where God used His servant, Job, to demonstrate his sovereignty to Satan. Ezra said many of the afflictions we carry as adults have greater inner-workings than we are aware of and are not intended to be personality flaws we bear to the world.
“Some of us are still afflicted with those childhood experiences and tragedies. We’re carrying inferiority complexes, low self-esteem, the inability to trust; we’re lacking emotional intelligence, have quick tempers, and other personality flaws that morph into character flaws. And this is all because of an act or actions of others who were supposed to govern us in our childhood—many of us come from parents who were not emotionally or psychologically prepared to be parents before they conceived us. Or perhaps grandparents or teachers, who could no more nurture us than they were healed of their own afflictions, yet they somehow caused ours.”
I noticed Jade squirming in her seat, but her face fixed below on Ezra. I could tell her gaze was different from Brielle’s when she’d attended church with me. Jade was affected by the context and not the bearded and well-groomed messenger. I felt my face stone as I realized that small revelation pleased me.
Weird…
“That’s why it’s best to not overdose on people. They’re fallible, unsound, limited, and heavily blemished. There is only one Source that it is safe to lose yourself to. One Entity that never changes, remains consistent in His decrees and deliverance,” Ezra continued over the burst of praise and claps ringing in the room.
Ezra wrapped up the sermon and ended with the benediction. As the room began to shift from people leaving the sanctuary, I noticed Jade remained in her seat.
“So, what you think?” I grinned, grabbing my Bible from the seat between us.
Jade blinked, looking stunned. “That was the most revealing sermon I’ve ever sat through. He was amazing. Is he always that intense?”
After taking a half a second to consider that question, I nodded.
“Yup. That’s Ezra. You go to church?”
She shook her head, reaching for her bag underneath her seat while she giggled, shy. “I’ve had my fair share of church. My parents attended a big one in Orange—and I thought that was big. It’s not half the size of this one. My mother made me go, but it wasn’t for me. Too pretentious and not soul-stirring.” She stood with her things, eyeing Kyree, who was playing with an airplane he brought with him for entertainment. “The preacher definitely didn’t go deep like that.” She gestured over the balcony to the pulpit with her chin.
“Yeah, E’s on a different planet with his,” I scoffed.
“I’d like to hear more of that. Maybe Ky and I can come back on Thursday with you—you do come on Thursdays, too, right?”
That felt stalkerish. I mean… Yeah, they’d been staying at my crib for a few weeks now, but for her to know my schedule… Should I be worried?
“Not my house.” I shrugged. “It’s God’s house. I’m sure you’re more than welcome.” She smiled dryly. “You never go back to your parents’ church? It’s closer.” Why did I low key tell her not to come back here?
“C’mon, Ky,” Jade spoke over her shoulder before walking toward me for the door. “She doesn’t go there anymore. They actually started going to a church somewhere here in New York City when I had KyKy. I haven’t been in touch exactly.
I started for the door before her. People were already coming in for the eleven o’clock service. I shifted out of the doorway to give them room to pass. Plus, I wante
d to see how far behind Jade and Kyree were. I recognized an older couple I’d seen often in this section. I believe the husband was a big time lawyer, Ezra told me a while back. I didn’t know what his wife did. She was pretty though. Like really, really pretty with caramel skin, fit, with a short boy cut, tapered close to her scalp. I could tell she was a diva and married to a man that kept her pretty. What I’d always found striking about her in passing were her deep green eyes. It was weird seeing a black woman who didn’t appear mixed except for those exotic eyes. I swear, if she wasn’t married she might have been in trouble.
She smiled at me brightly like always while following her husband who nodded. He was about my height. I chuckled quietly to myself as I held the door for Jade and Kyree to pass through ahead of me, thinking Jade and I had the same height discrepancy. I wondered was the older lady fiery like—
“KyKy?” The older woman shrieked with bulging eyes. She looked at me first, peeping who he was with, seeing that Jade was already out the door. “Why…” she gasped. “Who are you here with?” She eyed me appreciatively, but not flirting.
“Hey,” Ky waved. “I’m here with my friend, TB.”
“Oh,” she smiled, her eyes climbed up to me again.
“George McDowell,” her husband extended his hand. “I already know who you are.”
I shook his hand and nodded. “Pleasure to meet you, sir—officially.” I chuckled and he joined.
“How do you know my KyKy?” the wife asked with a smile.
“He’s my mommy’s friend, too. Mommy…” Kyree called for Jade. “Your mommy’s here!”
We turned toward the door and found Jade standing, appearing to have witnessed the whole introduction without interfering. She smiled tightly and went back to clutching her lower left arm in her right palm. Jade made no effort to come closer to the four of us.
“Hi, Mom. Hi, George!” was all she offered.
My mouth dropped and eyes flew back to the older woman who was Jade’s identical twin except for the color of their eyes and length of hair. This shit was crazy.
