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“I mean, I know I’m no replacement for my favorite tot, but I’m glad to get in some one-on-one time with you. I needed this.”
“Tell me about it,” I sighed. “Chi-Chi would’ve conked out on me by now, but she would’ve been fun all the way down. Just no gummies when she’s around.”
Peach laughed. “I’d hope not.”
“Do you get sick of people asking for advice from you?”
She hummed, considering it. “Not so much as it’s exhausting for me to have told folk thus saith the Lord to be ignored, only to have them come back crying, asking for more guidance. It lacks grace. If I can be real with anyone on this planet, you’re that one.”
“I can dig it.” My head rolled to the side of the lush recliner. “That’s why I keep my circle small, too.”
“Can you believe it’s me that giveth the relationship advice?” Peach scoffed. “It’s my least favorite duty and expectation. I enjoy spiritual and career topics.” Her head shifted to face me. “You ever feel some kind of way about us still being single?”
I thought about it for a moment, taking a sip of my bubbly. “Nope. Not at all. The years old society would say we missed out in holy matrimony. I like to think we instead used the time to further develop ourselves. You’ve gotten advanced degrees, you own property, and have traveled up the ranks in your organization. I’ve been on the move, too. Even got a baby out of wedlock”—Peach spit in laughter, torso curling over her lap. —“as a notch on my belt.” I took a moment to cackle with her. “I’m serious. You know I’m not ashamed of my motherhood journey. It’s a part of my fabric. It simply wasn’t planned, and that’s my only regret.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s made a mess of my relationship with Jas—wait. Let me correct that. Jas fucked up what we had from the beginning with his games about his full name, then high-jacking my father’s company. I got played like afuckin’—”
“Don’t go there,” Peach implored.
I rolled my eyes back to the light show. “I know.”
“Yeah. You do. Not only wasInever running with that conjecture, but you said it yourself how you intellectually walked through the possibility of Jas simply just being ambitiously corporate-minded and saw an opportunity he couldn’t refuse. You told me yourself you would have done the same thing, given you were in his shoes. Mr. Witherspoon was already selling his firm.”
“I know!” I acknowledged, my volume higher. “It’s just having these events occur successively makes me question…me. And then…” My head whipped toward her. “He imposes this ‘you can’t fuck anybody else’ rule only to stop fucking me.See!Megalomaniac. How does he think he’s going to controlmybody? And now this stunt with allowing Chivon to cry her way out of our arrangements? Not my best decision to go raw with a Harlem nigga.”
“And let’s not forget about the cosmopolitan ingénue from Millburn.”
I gasped. “Isn’t that an oxymoron? How can I be worldly and naïve at the same time?” Still, I sat back and found myself nodding. “I get what you mean.”
“Yeah. The one who judged him from the very beginning. You questioned how a thug could afford your therapist. You assumed his lifestyle as a trade laborer.” Peach sucked in a breath then her resonance lifted significantly. “Although, you didn’t flinch at his felon status.But—” It resumed levels. “—you only thought he’d be an adventurous lay when you first slept with him. Let’s see. What’s next? Ah! You almost broke things off when you learned the backstory of his conviction.”He’s a murderer... My stomach flipped. “Thenthe D was too good to sacrifice for a body or two or three—”
“Wait! Give me that damn champagne!”Thank god we’ve got this room to ourselves. I leaned over to Peach’s reclining sofa for her flute, but she smoothy evaded my reach. “Not even a half a glass in, and you can’t control that tongue?”
“And,” she continued, humor in her voice. “…we don’t need to revisit how you handled learning his government name.” As she counted out my alleged offenses on her fingers, Peach performed a palatal click, using her tongue and teeth. “Won’t go there. Youneededto be checked by your therapist the way you were—”
“Fuck her,” I hissed.
My therapist’s unyielding admonitory words on my reaction to learning Jas’ full name at my baby shower three years ago still stung.
That bitch…
“And your perfectly planned and executed tentacles on him when you were pregnant. The man agreed to your every request. He even bought you a sixteen thousand-dollar diamond necklace for a push gift, to your surprise. Oh. By the way, does he still have your engagementring—”
I gasped. “Now, Peach! We don’t know what type of ring that was!”
“If a man, crazy, even past insanity, shows you anAndreatta’s Promisesbox, referencing marriage, how can we deny it was an engagement ring?” When I didn’t have an answer, she continued. “Oh! Here’s a cold one!” She snapped her fingers. “He bought a plane to aid in yourtravel—”
“He travels, too! Extensively!” I was sick of people throwing the same assumption in my face—including Peach!
“Yeah.” She nodded, flashing her thumb into the air. “Okay. I’ll allow you to remain peaceful, you ingénue, you—oh!And when you finally go out and get your nightclub, you hire Sergio to manage it!” Peach fell into tears, cracking the hell up.
My investigative gaze shifted to the flute wedged between two fingers and a thumb. “What the hell does that mean?”
“C’mon, Shi-Shi. Are you serious?” Her wide eyes questioned me. “That was your way of snubbing Jas!”
I sucked in a breath. “Snubbing?” Blinking at her audacity, I shared, “I’m too old for snubs.”
