Page 47 of Hooked on Loving Him

Nodding, Kayshon pulls the phone from his ear and hits the button instantly, allowing me to hear Dad’s shenanigans.

“Lord, I have been wondering why Ashari has been neglecting her parents, but my prayers have been answered. You keep looking out for me and Ashanti despite our heathen ways. Whew. Thank You for showing up for my baby.” Dad is ranting, sounding like he is crying, and I roll my eyes because he would respond this way.

The next thing I know, Mom enters whatever room Dad is in and after quickly finding out what’s going on, she adds to the madness.

“Well, hello, sweetie. If my baby allows you to answer the phone, it tells me that she’s comfortable enough to be around you longer than twenty minutes, and she tolerates most of your gender. Who do I have the pleasure of welcoming into the family?”

Kayshon laughs heartily, and pain causes me to rock back and forth instead of being able to speak about what Mom is saying.

“Kayshon. I’m looking forward to being a part of the family, Ms. Ashanti.”

Lord, my parents have given this man another reason to remind me why we’re locked in.

My mind goes back to the first time Kayshon and I met, when he told me without reservation or hesitation that he was going to marry me. It took me the rest of that day to settle his words in my mind, but I dismissed it after realizing that I would never see him again.

God, you got jokes because I had no clue this is where I would be now with this man.

“Oh, sure. As soon as Shari feels better, I’ll have her set a date for us to get together at my crib.”

“All right, that sounds good,” Mom says as I tune back into the conversation without any of the three of them, including me, in the discussion.

“Awe, my poor baby. What’s wrong with her?” Dad interjects.

Closing my eyes, I tune out the conversation so I can drift back to sleep to erase the pain radiating through my belly. It seems like Kayshon can handle whatever my parents are saying. Therefore, I can go back to sleep and let them have it.

“Aye, Shari, uh, you got something on you,” Kayshon says hesitantly.

Turning around, I see the wide-eyed gaze he’s giving me as my eyebrows hike and my nose wrinkles. Without saying anything else, Kayshon points to the nightdress covering mybody. Grabbing the back of the dress, I pull it out so I can see what he’s talking about.

“Oh no,” I say as my stomach drops to my feet when I see two bright crimson stains on the material.

Kayshon’s eyes are assessing me, and mine instantly fill with tears that fall freely at the horror of this situation. Although we’re moving through the day at my place, I stand immobile, praying that the floor will open and swallow me up. My mind returns to a similar incident, causing heat to hit my neck and face.

“Girl, go on to school. You aren’t the first or last girl who’s going to get her period, so get used to this event every damn month. As a collective, God should allow us to jump Eve’s ass when we get to Heaven,” Mom says, frowning.

“Heaven?” My nose wrinkles, and I frown because Ashanti and Jeffrey Weeks ain’t spent a single Sunday in church despite occasionally allowing Amari and me to go with Papa Ren.

“Girl, hush. Get out of here so you don’t miss the bus.”

Doing as Mom says, I grab my book bag and head out the door, running to the bus stop when I see Ms. Donna approaching the stop.

“Come on, Shari, man. Let me help you get yourself together,” Kayshon says, snapping me out of the brief memory of my period disaster.

What Mom didn’t advise while pushing me to get to the bus stop was to not wear the pink pants, white shirt, and white tennis shoes. By the time the bus got to the school, my pants were ruined, and the seat held a reminder of my monthly cycle. It took almost three months and multiple busted lips to get the kids to stop calling me Carrie. Kayshon lifts me bridal style with me holding my butt so his arm doesn’t come in contact with the evidence of what’s happening with me. Kayshon climbs thesteps slowly, and his eyes are on me with the most loving and comforting expression he’s given me.

“Blood or no blood, you will never have a reason to hide your face from me, Shari. Stop tripping. Although I have never had this experience before, it doesn’t turn me off. It’s a first for us, but if I can take care of you like this every month for the rest of our lives, I’ll gladly sign up.”

In the next five minutes, we enter the bathroom, where Kayshon pulls the night dress over my head and starts the shower.

“What kind of mood are you in… second or fourth-degree burn?” Kayshon asks, smirking when his eyes connect with mine.

Tears slip from my eyes at Kayshon’s efforts to take care of me without thought or reservation. I have never had a man do what Kayshon is doing for me right now. Most men can’t handle the sight of blood or the inkling of dealing with a woman while she’s suffering as a result of it. Yet, here Kayshon is, fully invested in getting me together and smiling while doing it.

“Okay, I can deal with this shit here, but the tears can’t happen, Shari. The shit is killing me, so please stop crying. I promise I got you. Don’t trip or overanalyze this moment.”

Instead of my tears slowing, they pick up, and my cries are now vocal, causing Kayshon to stand and wrap me in his arms as my body shakes.

“Y-you’re g-gonna t-touch it,” I say shakily as warmth spreads throughout my body when Kayshon kisses my forehead several times.

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