Page 20 of Simply Complicated
“It’s coming, trust, it’s coming. It’ll probably happen tonight. Savior’s coming over to spend the night.”
“Awe sookie sookie now!” Nikki’s black side comes firmly out when she’s around me. My white girl voice is pretty good but Nikki should be awarded an Oscar for her acting. “Break out the champagne glasses and condoms!”
“Ooh, somebody’s been listening to ‘Pac and Snoop,” I sip on my soda, “good for you. Good for you.”
“I want a full-length dick report tomorrow. Do not spare. I need to know how those Bel-Air white boys get down.” She smiles like she just won an award.
“You’ve had pink dick. A lot of it, actually.” I point out. I don’t think Nikki’s ever had a black boyfriend and if she has, she kept him a secret she’ll take to the grave. “I’m sure it’s all the same.”
“No, it isn’t.” She insists. “Some guys can whip it out and send you to meet the Holy Ghost and some guys whip it out and you’re instantly singing the lyrics to “Short Dick Man.”” I bust up laughing and she follows. “Girl, you ain’t even know.”
“And I don’t want to! Trust me, I don’t want to!” I laugh. I get a buzz on my cell phone and my heart smiles to see it’s a message from Savior. Already I’m looking forward to his calls and texts like a lovesick groupie who just realized the lead singer of her favorite band is single: I’ll be running late tonight so I’ll be over around 10, if that’s okay?
I reply:Yeah, that’s fine.
How did the final go? Did you nail it?
I sure did! Thanks to you!
Nah, you did it. I might have helped some but you did all of the hard work.
It was a compliment I didn’t know I needed.Thank you.
Btw, my brother told me you passed the exam.
I sink down into my seat. “Remember when you just said I needed to tell Savior before his brother did?” I ask Nikki, who nods. “Yeah, scratch that.”
~~~~~~
After lunch, I head back home and clean up for Savior’s arrival. He’s not expected until way late, which is fine. It gives me time to scrub the house down and scrub my body down while I’m at it.
As I pull up the driveway, I see two people in business suits talking to my auntie. Gloria Jones is her name and well, she looks like the type that would be named that. She’s thin, with a voice that sounds like nails on a chalkboard, and bug eyes that reminds me of those Avatar people.
My auntie, when she wants to be, is a lovely woman who spends her days teaching L.A.’s worst at Compton high school. She has a Master’s degree and likes to mention it in every conversation she can.
She’s one of those women that probably would’ve gotten married and stayed married had her priorities not have been so messed up. She’s the type of woman who would stay with a dude who she has no future with but because he dicks her down just right, she bypasses a lot of his shit (gee, I wonder where I picked that up from).
It’s no surprise when my daddy gave me my late Granny’s home, Gloria had five or sex bitch fits about it. She doesn’t hesitate to tell everyone she’s going to leave the ‘hood, but when the opportunity is presented, she suddenly doesn’t want to. My auntie, when she’s bored and that’s often, loves to start shit and pick fights that got nothing to do with her.
You would think I’m talking about the typical middle-age black female who spends her days gossiping online with other don’t-have-a-man-but-have-cobwebs-in-their-punani- hens just like her, but no. My auntie is not even 40.
I have a lot to do today and my auntie isn’t gon’ fuck up my mood. I park the Beemer and get out, boasting the brightest smile that Colgate would be proud of as the gentlemen approach me.
“Hello.” A man with a deep voice smiles at me. He’s portly and has slick back hair that’s full of grease. He smells like he’s about to sell me some bullshit. “You must be Keisha.” He holds out his hand for me to shake and I just glance down at it and back at him.
“Let’s cut to the chase – who the hell are you?” I recognize a scammer when I see one.
“Keisha!” Gloria scolds me as she accompanies the men. “Where are your manners? I’m sorry, gentlemen, this is my niece, Keisha. She’s the owner of the duplex.” She glares at me. “She’s the one that’s responsible for all of the decisions around here.”
“I’m also the one that is responsible for letting you pay cheap rent and I don’t see you mouthing off about that.” I smartly reply and Gloria straightens her posture.
“My name is Edward Georgian and this my brother, Lance.” The man produces a business card and I recognize his last name being Armenian. Now my thoughts of him being a snake-oil salesman are correct. I should ask him how the rest of the Kardashians are doing. “We were wondering if you were interested in selling your property.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Keisha, listen to what the men have to say. They’ve made a very good first offer.” Gloria nods.
“An offer of money you won’t receive?” I reply. “I’m not selling the duplex.”
