Just great.
Noelani and I becoming friends came out of nowhere. During the summer of my senior year in college I took a trip to Barbados by myself. I had so much on my mind and figured a weekend out in the sun would help me get my thoughts together. When I walked into the cute beach house that I rented I cried seeing my mother there. David had sent her my itinerary and she knew that if I was going alone that something had to be wrong.
She brought along Noelani who had a hard time dealing with the anniversary of her brother’s wife and son being murdered because he owed money to a loan shark. That weekend my mother became a therapist. She listened to our problems. Wiped our tears. Fed us the word of God. Prayed for our strength, and then helped us birth new purpose. Noelani and I been close as sisters ever since.
“He is very good looking, sweetie. Kinda reminds me of that actor with the nice abs.” My mother wiped the corner of her mouth after taking a bite of her crab cake. “Shemar Moore. Yes, that’s exactly who he favors. And look at that, he’s coming over here.”
Both of them squealed like two little schoolgirls. I had yet to turn around in my chair to see who this man was. By the way my mom and Noelani were practically drooling at the mouth the closer he got I knew he had to be a looker.
“Good evening ladies.” At least his voice had a nice baritone to it.
“Hello.” My mom and Noelani sang, batting their eyes.
“May I ask who the birthday girl is?” Now I know damn well he saw the million and one balloons attached to my chair that Noelani insisted on buying. I’m glad my back was to him. My eye roll was something vicious.
“Ouch!” I glared across the table at Noelani. Damn heffa kicked me in the shins with her sharp ass stiletto. Clearing my throat, I plastered on a fake smile and turned around. “That would be me, and you are?” Whomever he was definitely was a looker. The typical LA looker. More metro masculine than manly. My father would have a conniption if I brought him home.
Maybe I was too picky but men who were more flawless than me weren’t my type. I don’t mean in the looks department but overall. Yes, he favored Shemar Moore to the ‘T’ but he also had on a dark hunter green velour sports coat with dress pants that I know he had to jump into. Both of us can’t be jumping in our jeans now.
“Garrett. What’s your name, beautiful?”
“Krishna.”
“I like that.” This man licked his lips like my mama wasn’t sitting right here.
“Thank you for the wine. I appreciate it.” I really did. It was one of my favorites. He had to be in the entertainment business or real estate. Who randomly sent a four-hundred-dollar bottle of wine to a table of women they didn’t know? Socalo was my favorite Mexican restaurant out in Santa Monica that had a secret menu for the rich and lavish. While most meals cost you anywhere from thirty to fifty dollars, they also catered to the bourgeois like myself and offered wine that cost the same amount as the shoes on my feet.
“No problem at all. I’m going to leave you my number and hope that you call me. I’d like to take you out, Krishna.” His eye contact, strong and pulling, was on point. “Have a good night ladies.” Smelling his cologne as he leaned over to place his card on the table had me licking my lips.
“Bye, Garrett.” These two flirts waved making him drop a megawatt smile. “Hmm, look at that, Krishna. He’s a real estate agent from Los Angeles. How ironic is it that he lives there but also dining here? Now I’m not one to make assumptions but that man may be your Adam.” My mom’s overgrowing desire for grandchildren made any man that had a job suitable to be my husband.
Real estate agent…go figure.
“I don’t think he’ll be hearing from me.” As soon as I said the words, I regretted it.
My mom placed the card down and folded her arms. “And why is that? He’s nice looking, has a job, and can’t forget his fine taste in wine. Everything else you can find out by going on a date with him.”
Of course, that was easy for her to say. She wouldn’t die a virgin because her soul refused to move on. Damn fire flames. “Mom, I’m just not ready to date yet. Being in a committed relationship requires so much time and effort that I don’t have to give.” Truth of the matter is I don’t have a desire to give that much of me to any other man whose name isn’t Amell.
Noelani regarded me with knowing eyes. One night a few years ago I had got drunk and desperately had this itch, this crave for Amell. I wanted to hear his voice. Feel his touch. Kiss his lips. God had been playing a cruel joke on me for years. The more I prayed for Him to send me another love the more I was drawn to this man like sugar to a diabetic.
That night in the rain changed my life and I haven’t been the same since.
I called Noelani that night and begged for her to give me his number. My begging turned into a crying plea that turned into me spilling my guts and confessing my obsession with this man. Not once has she ever judged me or made me feel bad about it.
“This time I’ll give you a pass. I’m just saying, it would be nice to have some grandbabies from my one and only child.” A never-ending cycle.
So many times, I wanted to blurt out and say that she needed to ask Amell the question instead of hounding me but then that would set off a round of fireworks I wasn’t prepared to watch. Saving myself for him might seem wasteful to others, like letting my good years pass me by while I settled on waiting for a man that may or may not finally come around. Up until I saw Amell when I was sixteen years old, I thought I’d give my virginity to a man that made me feel good not loved.
My parents’ marriage kinda freaked me out and ruined any fairytales I had about a whimsical marriage. It wasn’t until I reached my twenties that I stopped being angry with my mother and father. For years they were selfish in my eyes and I never wanted to be married to a man who loved the streets more than his own seed. Now, after falling in love with a man who mirrored my father, I wanted to hold onto my purity.
Give him something that I never gave anyone else. Spending that night with Amell I got the feeling he never had anyone give to him without having to give in return. All I wanted, and still wanted, was to be able to be his escape and that hope kept me waiting.
Amell
Heartless displaying a complete lack of feeling or consideration. Someone who's heartless is inconsiderate and insensitive to other people's feelings.
“Where is JD? I got those new Jordan’s he wanted.” Pacino lifted the box of shoes and placed them in the back of my truck.
“He’s with his uncle fishing. Pay attention to Atlas in case I miss something.”
“How many times are you going to ask him and expect for the truth to come out of his mouth? He’s been sneaking around for a year now. Driving way out here thinking his sneaky ass covered his tracks that we’d never find out. Let’s bust up in the room and hogtie her ass.” Pacino’s logic always made me question if he ever thought logically.
“I’m hoping that he comes to me before I have to show my hand.” What I left out was that Atlas had disappointed me to the point of depression.
My brothers fail to realize that I have eyes on their every move, even the women that they mess with. Trust issues were real when it came to those my brothers allowed to be a part of their lives. If it wasn’t me and Pacino, Mitch and Clover, I had no trust.