Page 25 of Keeping Busy
“So, tell me about …”
Before she could complete her thought, British burst into my office. As graceful as my mom was, British was equally as inelegant, making her way through life doing her best impression of a bull in a china shop.
“What are we talking about?” She asked, closing my door with a resounding click.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, giving my younger sister the screw-face. “It’s 8:30 on a Monday morning, shouldn’t you be at your own place of business?”
With her hands up in a sign of surrender, she assured me that was her plan. “I’m going, I’m going. I stopped by to talk to mommy...now I want to talk to you. Did you ask her about Busy?” She addressed that question to our mother.
“I was just about to. So, what’s happening with you and Mr. Mayhew, Mecca? Is thearrangementworking out?”
Raising an eyebrow, I questioned, “why’d you sayarrangementlike that? Like we’re doing something inappropriate.”
“Not inappropriate, just...undercover.” She clarified.
“And have y’all been under the covers?”
My eyes involuntarily rolled to the ceiling at British’s comment. She had absolutely no chill. “Ugh.”
My mom chuckled, though. I didn’t know if it was because British was her baby or what, but she always thought British’s outrageousness was cute.
“All jokes aside,” my mom continued. “What’s going on with the two of you? For you to have been on the outs for all of these years, you seem awfully friendly.”
“Nothing’s going on with us. I’m basically just trying to get to know him. And yeah, we’ve never been friends, but I’ve known him forever. I can be cordial with him.”
“It’s more than cordial, MeMe.” British assured me. “Ma, you should’ve seen them at Joya’s house. They were all over each other.”
“We were not!”
With a hard side eye, and her arms folded across her ample chest, she begged to differ. “You kinda were.”
I flashed-back to Busy kissing me on the neck, and my subsequent ass-rubbing-against-the-pelvis response. She was right, we kinda were all over each other. “We did that to convince the rest of the family that we’re really together.”
“Worked like a charm. With all that bumping and grinding, I know you had to smoke a cigarette in the car.”
“Ahhh.” My mother laughed out loud. “Seriously MeMe, how are you supposed to resist all of that lusciousness? I mean, you’re only human and Busy is a big old piece of chocolate.”
“Fine, sexy chocolate. Muscular chocolate. Goatee, kissable lips, big di…”
“British!” I censured.
Her face was the picture of decency. “What? I was gonna say big dimples.” Her brown eyes narrowed slightly. “What did you think I was gonna say?”
My mother was tickled pink by our interaction. “Yeah MeMe, what did you think she was gonna say?”
“Ugh!” I let my head fall into my hands. Family could be so aggravating.
“Seriously baby,” my mother’s eyes gleamed with love and hopefulness, “you and Busy are averygood look. And your dad was right when he said that you two have a lot in common.”
“Who wouldn’t be a good look with Busy, though? He’s gorgeous.” I allowed.
Nodding in agreement, British spoke. “That he is. So, spill the tea, girl. Are there any sparks flying?”
I sighed heavily. How to answer that question? Be honest? Coquettish? Aloof? Disinterested? I couldn’t be dishonest with my mother and my sister, so I put it out there as plainly as I could. “I’m attracted to him. He’s so handsome, it’s impossible not to be. And that body.”
“Yaaasssss, sis. It’s that body. All of those muscles, covered by that smooth chocolate.” British’s eyes were glazed over, like her body was present, but her mind was far, far away.
“What about his heart?” Trust my mother to cut to the chase.
