Page 38 of Not My Type
“So him a nuh really somebody you would a see me a deh with,” I start. I have to get that out there first and foremost.
“Woiiiie!” Clova exclaims. Seeing her this excited makes me laugh.
“Yes” I purse my lips, blushing uncontrollably, with my head tilted towards my shoulder.
“Nah lie, me never see you this head over heels before. Tell me more!” she climbs on the stool around the island. She is such a drama queen.
“ Yea so basically him wah me be him woman but mi tell him say mi ago think about it,” I tell her.
“And nuhn no wrong with that,” Clova adds.
“Mhm so there’s a few things that makes the decision kinda hard,” I sigh. She’s attentive, giving me her full attention.
“No pressure yourself, take your time man,” Clova advises.
“Yeah, me like him but mi know seh mi family nah go accept him,” She nods, seemingly in deep thoughts. Then I continue. “Mi know say he isn’t my type of man. Cause him in a next world while me inna mine.”
“And you like him regardless of that?”
“Yes,” I nod.
“So go for it then. Don’t make the mistake fi miss out pan a man you want because of family,” she tells me. I stare at the fruit rack before me in complete silence.
“Zara mek me tell you something. If you follow people you never reach no where in life or get what you want. So forget ‘bout wah dem a go think and focus pan wah you want. You want the man?” she asks, eyes piercing through me.
I look away from her intense stare. “Mi know it pointless fi worry about what others think but honestly mi just feel like mi family a guh give me a warm time.”
“Zara you want the man, me see it inna your eyes,” she states.
“Yea, I do,” I choke out.
“Mi say you can’t worry bout family. Once the man a push out effort and you know you want him, then go for it,” she tells me.
This is not going to be easy.
“Just do wah me say man,” she adds.
It nah go be easy.
“Okay,” I breathe and stare at my phone. It’s still on do not disturb.
“Cheer up mon. You want help me cook?”
“Yeah,” I smile and get off the stool. She moves towards the stove. I lean against the counter and wash my hands. I’m feeling much better.
“Zara, dem always say every good girl need a little thug inna dem life enuh,” Clova mutters and I laugh.
“Chro,” I giggle.
I can’t believe I like the sound of that.
She hands me the fork, and I turn the chicken in the pot. The aroma of the curry tickles my nostrils. It’s satisfying. On the next burner, Clova is focusing on her white rice. It isn’t Jasmine but still smells amazing. An hour passes by in no time. Then I hear her niece’s voice behind me.
“The food smell nice Aunty Clova!” she blurts out and I turn to see her at the doorway.
“It done enuh,” Clova chuckles and she opens the fridge, taking out a true Hennessy. First seventeen-year-old I’ve seen who behaves like this—she acts and looks so old. Hold up. A hickey that pan har neck?
“Weh yuh get money fi buy Hennessy, Shanae?” Clova narrows her eyes at her.
