Page 28 of Crash: Love in Scrubs
I didn’t have an answer for that.
“That’s what I thought.” His voice got softer. “You deserve to be taken care of too, LT. You deserve to be somebody’s priority.”
“Malik...”
“I’m just saying. When you’re ready to let me show you what that looks like, I’m here. Night LT.”
“Night. See you Saturday.”
After we hung up, I sat on my patio for a long time, thinking about what he said. About being someone’s priority. About letting myself be taken care of. It wasn’t that I didn’t think I deserved it. I always did. I always wanted it. I thought I’d have that with Ashe. We talked about marriage, a home, and a future that included kids, a dog to protect the house, maybe a pool, and a trampoline. But then real life hit, sleepless nights, a crying baby, messy buns, and takeout, and he dipped. Took all those promises with him. It all sounded cute until the ugly truth slapped two new parents in the face.
I’d see how this date went this weekend and go with the flow. No need to overthink it. Not yet, anyway.
SATURDAY
Iwalked into Precision Cutz, ready to finalize the last thing I needed to do before my first date with Sametra tonight. I had already picked up my laundry, excited to get casket sharp for her. My mind was all over the place when it came to her. I wanted to push, hell, I wanted to pull up, plant my flag, make her my woman, and dare a motherfucker to say otherwise. But I didn’t, I couldn’t, not with Sametra. Her feistiness and strength were what I enjoyed about her most. I wanted to take care of her, handle what she needed without overpowering her and robbing her of her independence. A nigga didn’t rock like that.
I was raised by a strong woman, physically, emotionally, and mentally. Yolanda Holloway would run drills with me in the yard and then bake chocolate chip cookies from scratch later. Ineeded the mother of my kids to be the same way. Strong and soft in all the right places. My kids deserved that.
“Malik,” a voice called, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I looked up from my phone. A tall, pretty woman with a fresh, low cut stood in front of me, smirking like she knew me already.
“I’m Winnie, so I’ll be taking care of you.” My barber normally came to me, but due to a family emergency, he’d had me set up with his top barber.
“You know me?” I asked, sliding into her chair.
“I know of you, Dr. Holloway.” She snapped the cape around my neck. “I’m LT’s best friend.”
That caught my attention. I smiled, running my fingers through my beard, thinking of her friends knowing the nickname I’d given her.
“Word?”
“Yep. Nice to finally put a face to the group chat,” she teased, making me grin. My baby had me in the group chat? I felt like I’d made varsity or some shit.
“Okay, Winnie. Gon ‘head and give me the speech. I fuck with your girl, so get it over with. I’m tryna be around.”
“Oh, I see why she likes you,” she laughed, lining me up. “Straight shooter. Alright, here it is, I’ve watched her raise my nephew by herself, work herself damn near to death, and still show up for everybody. She deserves someone who treats her like she’s somebody. It’s been a minute since she’d even looked at a man, let alone entertained one. If you’re not serious, don’t play. If you want her, stand on that or stay the hell away.”
I met her eyes in the mirror. “I got nothing but good intentions for Sametra. I knew the minute I saw her.”
“Good. Because she’s been through enough. She doesn’t need any more confusion.” Winnie continued to cut my hair and cleaned me up as we talked. “But if you’re really about her, youshould know, she’s worth every bit of effort. She’s so funny and kind. People are just naturally attracted to her light.”
“I’m already knowing. I’m sure you know I’m taking her out tonight. Any tips? What’s my baby like? Flowers, chocolate, what?”
“You one smooth-talking-ass nigga,” she said with a grin. “My friend might be in trouble.”
“Only the good kind,” I winked.
Yeah, Sametra was in trouble. I had plans to turn her out. Then to move her and my son in shortly after. She always laughed when I claimed her and Samaj, but it was real. They were my people now. I’d go too hard behind them, and I didn’t even care that the first date hadn’t popped off yet.
I was starting to understand what my mom meant about being half gone. My ass wasn’t halfway; I was already in orbit. Sametra woke something up in me. My heart said stand the fuck up, and I listened.
“She’s a sour candy girl. Chocolate’s cool, but not her go-to. She loves a little adrenaline. Likes Thai, Chinese, that gyro spot on Federal Ave. But really? She’ll love anything that’s thoughtful. She’s the around-the-way girl people write songs about.”
“Flowers?”
“She likes them. But florist only, not gas station or grocery store shit. And don’t drag it with a giant arrangement. Keep it cute, thoughtful.”
