Page 73 of Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming
“Say that shit to my face, motherfucker!” an older Black man whose name Suchi can’t remember yells.
Kofi hangs his head down in annoyance and mutters a curse.
“My ribs are better,” another older Black man says in the first older Black man’s face. They resemble each other so they must be related. Hell, everyone here is related in some way except for the white couple, the NBA dude and his wife, and Suchi.
The first older Black man shoves the second one, then the second man shoves him back. Kofi looks over at Thad before turning to Suchi.
“I’m sorry, Suchi. Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”
But before Kofi can head over, Drea chastises the older gentlemen. “You two stop this right now! You both promised that you would get along and stop this competitive nonsense. This is my husband—your nephew’s—birthday. I will not have anybody ruin it. Now, apologize to Thad, and separate for the rest of the evening.”
“It’s not my fault his ass started talking shit,” the first older Black man argues.
“Are you serious, Uncle Levi?”
Levi, that’s it!
“You’re a grandfather, for Christ’s sake, and you really just said, ‘He started it!’” Drea responds. “Apologize to my husband, please.”
Levi and the other man apologize to Thad, and Kofi turns back to Suchi. “Have you eaten?”
“Not yet, I’ve just been watching everyone skate.”
“Do you know how to?”
“No.”
“Do you want me to teach you?”
Suchi shakes her head. “Not really. I don’t want to bust my ass in front of everybody.”
Kofi shakes his head and chuckles.
“Naw, that ain’t happening. I’ll hold on to you the whole time. I promise I won’t let you go.”
Holy shit, he’s dreamy!
“I’m good, but I wouldn’t mind going somewhere quiet to talk,” Suchi answers.
Kofi smiles. “That works.”
They sitin Kofi’s Toyota RAV4. He drives a hybrid. The more Suchi learns, the more she likes him. She’s always been the curious type and asks tons of questions. Her father always encouraged it. “We can’t know the answers, if we never ask” is his motto.
“What do you do, Kofi?”
“I like how you say my name.”
“Kofi,” Suchi says softly. She follows it up with a bright smile and another flutter of her eyelashes.
Kofi gives her a wolfish grin before he answers, “I own some tattoo parlors called Sinful Skin. As you can see, I’m a fan.” He gestures his arms.
Suchi runs her fingers along the artwork on his arms. When she looks up, his dark eyes are on her, boring into her soul.
“What’s the first thing you do when you wake up in the morning?” She returns her hand to her lap.
He snaps his seatbelt and thinks for a second before speaking. “I open my eyes and thank God I woke up that morning.”
“Every day?”
