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“You bringing Natasha to the cookout?” Paul asked.
“No. And I think you know why.”
“Who’s Natasha?” Rhonda asked.
But before I could answer, Paul blurted out. “She’s the new woman Vic’s been dating.”
“We aren’t dating; we’re just friends.”
“Whatever, Vic. It’s Friday night.” He turned to Rhonda. “You got a date tonight?”
“No.”
“What about tomorrow, after the cookout, got a date then?”
“No, Paul, let it go.?
??
“Rhonda, what would you say if I told you that your brother hasn’t been out with anybody other than this so-called friend since the wedding?”
Rhonda looked at me and, once again, those fists hit her hips. “I’d say it sounds serious and I’m wondering why this is the first time I’m hearing about it?”
“Because we are just friends, Rhonda.” I looked at Paul. “If it was anything more than that I would tell you, but we’re just friends.”
“Friends that spend all their free time together,” Paul said, and I was thinking about kicking his ass to shut him up.
“Well then, if that’s the case, I think you should invite your friend to meet your family. Because you know I’ll get a full report.”
“I’m sure that Maggie will tell you everything you missed in detail,” I said.
“If she doesn’t, Angie will,” Paul added.
Maggie and Angie were Paul’s sisters, and Rhonda’s loyal minions.
Me, Rhonda, and Paul talked for a few minutes about some other things and, before we knew it, her car had arrived to take her to the airport. Why she wouldn’t let me drive her, I will never understand, but Rhonda always called for a car.
Chapter Seven
Natasha
I was standing in the closet, swaying from side to side, and one thought dominated my mind: What does one wear when meeting the family for the first time?
I didn’t have the luxury of selecting my outfit when I met Lloyd’s family. It was a Women of Color Tea, which was hosted by his mother at the Ritz Carlton in Fernandina Beach, and was attended by the rest of his family. Lloyd picked out a champagne gold tea dress that made me look pale; but since it was the appropriate thing to wear, I wore it like a good girl. It was awkward and I spent the entire time biting my tongue, for fear of saying the wrong thing around those snobs.
Where was the real music?
And how about some food that filled me up?
When Victor invited me to his family cookout, I immediately said no. More because it was the right answer than anything else; but he looked a bit disappointed, so I amended my no to maybe. He seemed satisfied with that. I’m not sure why I cared enough about his heart to say maybe I’d go, but if I really wanted to be honest with myself, and there are times when I don’t, I’d have to admit that my reasoning goes far beyond my enthusiasm for barbecue ribs.
Maybe it had something to do with the realization that we both knew this game we were playing was dangerous. I mean, I had to lie to do things with him. And being a liar didn’t come naturally. Luckily for me, I had always been trustworthy; so Lloyd gave no thought to my newfound habit of working late just about every day, nor was he the least bit curious about my expanded volunteer schedule on Saturdays.
I settled on a cute khaki, lace accent short romper, a pair of pink champagne, grip thong sandals, put my hair in a ponytail, and drove out to Amelia Island State Park. I thought it was a beautiful location for a family day of fun, when he called and left a message with the details, ending his call with, “You know, just in case you decide to come.”
He had no idea that his words held double meaning for me. I wanted to come and then some more, but I stopped thinking about that and set up my story so that I could come—go . . . to the park. I shook my head.
Get your mind from between your thighs, Natie.
