Page 26 of Keeping Busy
“He was raised by Miss Vera, no doubt he has a good heart.” British insisted. “I mean, he paid for MeMe’s attire when she went to the benefit with him. No questions asked, and didn’t even blink at the $3000 she spent.”
My mother was quiet, but her gaze held mine hostage. She always had the power to look into my eyes and see into my soul. She could read my heart and my mind without me having to say a word.
British was oblivious to the silent conversation that was taking place right in front of her, she just kept chatting away. “Speaking of the benefit, how did that go?”
“It was good.”
“What did Busy think of the dress?”
“WhatdidBusy think of the dress?” My mother seconded. “Because from what I could see on Instagram, that was quite a dress.”
“That dress was a mess.” I admitted.
Apparently, British and that dress were homegirls or something, because she was personally offended. “That dress was everything - dreamy, lacy, ethereal, form-fitting…”
“Sheer. I don’t know why I let you talk me into it.”
“Because you looked like the hotness in it.”
“Because I was practically naked!” I insisted.
My mother easily brought the conversation back around to where she wanted it. “Did Busy think you were practically naked?”
I chuckled at her lack of subtlety. “All night long he kept repeating how much he hated the dress.”
British couldn’t keep herself from reacting. “He hated the dress?!?”
“Said it was starting mess, and that he thought he was gonna end up having to fight somebody over me...in the dress.”
A slow smile crept across my sister’s pretty face. “Uhm, you have his nose wide open already?”
“It wasn’t like that.” I maintained.
“What was it like?” My mother with the questions.
“I think he’s just been...conditioned to look out for us, the Watson girls, and take care of us. I think Miss Vera kind of insisted on it.”
My mother studied her fingernails like a word from Jesus was coming through on her nail polish or something. She picked at an imaginary hang-nail as she spoke. “Did he have to take care of you at the benefit?”
“Well, there were a lot of athletes at the benefit, and you know how presumptuous and cocky they can be - thinking that everybody wants them. And I had on that dress. I didn’t want any random, thirsty as...dudes rubbing all up on me or touching me under the guise of getting a hug. So, I asked him if he would make like a football player and “cover” my body.”
“Make like a football player and “cover” your body?” British repeated. “Well dang, my sister’s a boss. Was he like, ‘hecks yeah, I’ll cover your moth..dang on body’.” She caught herself.
I laughed at her silliness. “Pretty much.”
“He spent his night fighting guys off of you?” My mother asked.
“He wasn’t fighting them, mom. He was just...encouraging them to move around.”
British’s eyes were as large as saucers. “How?”
“He told them that I wasn’t giving hugs, and if they wanted to say hello, they could just wave.”
Clearly, Busy’s comedic stylings were on par with Kevin Hart, because at that, British was on the floor with laughter.
“He told them niggas to wave. Sorry mama. I just can’t believe he told them to wave.”
British’s glee was apparently contagious, because soon, both my mother and I joined in her laughter.
