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“All right, Nick. I’ll see you tonight.”
I could hear the rap music blasting from my apartment. The bass line was so strong I could feel it vibrating in my chest. As soon as I walked through the door I found Nick dancing in the center of the living room in some funny-looking boxers with smiley faces on it. As angry as I was about the volume of the music, the image of him doing the Harlem shake half naked was hilarious.
“Nick!” I screamed.
He turned around and flashed that cute smile of his and turned the music down.
“Hey! I was just working off a big Whopper with cheese from Burger King. You look sooo good, girl; come here.”
I put down my bag and hugged him. His arms felt strong. “You been working out.”
Nick stood back and started flexing. “A little somethin’ but you know I’ve always been buff.”
I laughed because I once saw some pictures of Nick as a young teen. He used to be kind of puny. “Yeah, Bootney Farnsworth.”
As I took off my coat I noticed Nick sitting with his legs unusually far apart.
“What are you doing?” He had a big grin on his face as he began thrusting his pelvis into the air.
“You’re joking, right? I just got in the house.”
“Come on, Asha, I haven’t had sex since I last saw you and I’m in the mood.”
I laughed at him as he winded his hips seductively and patted the space next to him. “You a damn liar. What happened to Baby Girl?”
His face contorted in disgust. “Baby Girl?”
“Yes, Nick, the one you said you were going to marry.”
“Asha, you like two sevens stuck together.”
I crossed my arms and waited for the payoff. “What does that mean, Nick?”
“It means that you are a square! I ain’t say nuthin’ to you about marryin Baby Girl.”
“But you told me she was so fine you were gonna make her your wife.”
His eyes roamed over my face and his tone became serious. “I wanted to gauge your reaction, sweetheart.”
I sensed that Nick was waiting for me to say some specific thing, but since I didn’t know what it was, I kept my mouth shut.
He switched back to gangsta-thug talk. “Besides, I probably said wifey not wife.”
“What is a wifey?”
“A wifey is just a girlfriend you like a lot and you don’t want her to go out there fuckin’ around, so you give her a title and she sticks around forever and ever.”
“What about getting engaged until you figure things out?”
Nick’s already big eyes popped out of his head further. “Oh, no, no, no! You crazy! A wifey don’t get no ring, girl!”
“Is that true, Nick? Is that what this kid says?”
“Yup.”
“Wait; so let me get this straight. So basically a “wifey” is an insurance policy for a brother who has no intention of actually making any real commitment to his girlfriend but has decided he doesn’t want her messing around with other people while he does whatever he wants? What kind of sorry-ass woman would agree to an arrangement like that?”
Nick thought about it a few seconds. “The kind that’s in love.”
