“Hello, my name’s Josie Bordelon and I’m the director of admissions at Fairchild Country Day School,” I say to the ayi with what I believe is a warm and inviting Welcome to America face. Her eyes grow big and she bows her head and mumbles in soft Mandarin. Is this an act of servitude, reverence, lack of English, or has she never been this close to a black person before?
I move to stand in front of the tech twins, but still they don’t look up. The pearl-encrusted Hello Kitty phone case belonging to Mei is blinding me, so I take a step to the right. Mei’s legs are crossed and she’s cluelessly swinging her stiletto-clad foot at me. I can see too much leg, but it’s almost okay because it’s impossible to note the short skirt when your eyes are drawn to the diamond chain belt circling her hips. From the waist down, she looks like a Bergdorf window gone bad.
Bai has on Chanel sunglasses—indoors on the cloudiest of San Francisco days. Several thick gold chains hang from his pencil neck. I’m a bit perplexed how this pimply, skinny teen can hold his Lil Wayne jewelry up. His sneakers are a brand I’ve never seen and perfectly unblemished. I have to believe he put them on in the car and then had his driver carry him into the school and plop him in the leather chair. He looks up to say hello, or so I think, but instead looks right through me and then bows his head again to the God of all things tech.
Mei finally looks up with a smile and a bit of life in her eyes; this feels promising. “When will we be done here? I want to go to the Apple Store and get iPads for my friends.” She doesn’t wait for my answer before reengaging with her phone. Her English is perfect.
I decide I’m no longer needed here, turn quickly on my kitten heels, and head out. Roan has handled tougher audiences than the Liu twins in my absence and I’m fully confident they won’t break him. I have more pressing concerns like cleaning the living room before Dr. Golden comes over. If Aunt Viv finds out he stepped one foot in our apartment in its current condition, I’ll be the next Bordelon to end up in the hospital.
I’m actually looking forward to Golden Boy stopping by. I don’t particularly like a quiet house when my mind has free rein to contemplate all sorts of topics buried deep in my brain. Is gravity really going to take over after forty? Am I prepared to date now that Etta’s leaving for college? How many more years can I tolerate working for Nan? Are there new trends in body hairstyling? Is the Brazilian still popular?
The doorbell buzzes and I take a last quick look around the apartment. It may not be Aunt Viv’s military-standard clean, but I give myself a solid B.
“Wow. You really went out of your way to dress up for me,” Dr. Golden says, giving me a quick bottom-up once-over. I look down at my sweats. Really? He didn’t notice my fabulous outfit at his parent interview, but now he’s become RuPaul on Drag Race?
“I didn’t realize tonight was a formal affair,” I clap back, nodding at Ty’s wool charcoal pinstripe suit, crisp white shirt, and magenta-and-navy striped tie. Looking at this man, dressed up in a suit so beautiful there is no way he found it on a sale rack, I can’t decide which Golden Boy is hotter: the athlete, the doctor, or the gentleman.
“Oh this old thing?” Ty gives me a mock look of surprise. “I had two hundred fifty cardiologists to impress at a conference today. I was one of the keynote speakers.”
“I imagine that’s a real fashionista crowd.”
“Not a lot of fashion, but a whole lot of heart.”
“I should shut the door on you for that corny-ass joke. Good thing I’m in a generous mood this evening and wouldn’t mind a little company. Come on in.”
Golden Boy fills out his suit as well from the backside as from the front. DANG! That Daniel is one lucky husband. I decide then and there I’ll stretch waaaaaaaay out of my comfort zone this evening and casually ask Dr. Golden if he has any single, straight friends to set me up with. This is a limb I’m not sure I’m ready to step out onto, but it’s not lost on me that I need to put an end to my celibacy streak and I would prefer to do it with someone as handsome as Dr. Golden.
“I brought a few things to help Aunt Viv start building some more muscle mass and flexibility. You know, start small, ten minutes a day, but even that can do wonders for her physical fitness over time. Then, once she’s more fit, we can bump her up to thirty minutes a day, ideally with it happening in the school gym with real exercise equipment. End goal, we get her to an hour of exercise four to five times a week. Low impact, of course, but an hour is what we’re going for.” Ty pulls out a blue TheraBand and two purple five-pound hand weights from his oversized murse. “A wellness company was giving these away at the conference today and I thought maybe Aunt Viv would love them. Gives her a solid place to start building an honest exercise routine.”
“There are a lot of things Aunt Viv would love,” I barely squeak out, I’m laughing so hard, “but exercise equipment is nowhere on, near, or next to that list.” I pick up the TheraBand and pretend I’m about to slingshot it across the room. Dr. Golden lunges to grab it from me and ends up chest bumping my chin. That man smells good even after a long day of talking to medical nerds.
“Come on, you don’t know that, Josie. When Aunt Viv and I talked about diet and exercise at her follow-up appointment she was nodding yes the whole time. She told me she absolutely would change her habits, that she understands why it’s necessary moving forward. She promised.”
I wipe the tears of laughter pooled in the outside corners of my eyes. “She may have been shaking her head yes, but trust me, she was thinking no way, no how. How many seventy-year-old Southern black women do you see lifting weights, doing crunches, and munching fennel? I’ll tell you how many, none. And I’ll tell you why, ’cause it’s hot as hell under a perfectly set wig. Aunt Viv’s not buying into your white doctor voodoo woo-woo medicine. Not today, not ever. In her world there’s nothing gumbo can’t fix. But please, feel free to leave the goodies on the coffee table and I’ll let you know how it all goes down, Boy Scout.” I’m glad Dr. Golden came over tonight, I haven’t had a big belly laugh in a good while. I might have to video Aunt Viv’s reaction to her hand-delivered home gym equipment and send it to Dr. Golden for proof of non-compliance. Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun with this . . .
“I think you’re underestimating your aunt Viv. She seems committed to me.”
“Oh, she’s definitely committed to you. That woman’s got a mad teenage love crush on you, Golden Boy, that’s for sure.”
“The woman’s got good taste in men, what can I say. And don’t underestimate the power of love. She may be running with me on Chrissy Field before you know it.”
“She don’t love you that much,” I assure Ty. I’m definitely sending his cocky self a video of Aunt Viv passing by her gifted home gym, paying it no mind.