Page 18 of Defending the Post
“Sorry, Pops, where is. . .”
“Marquise, your sister is asleep,” Mom said, as she entered the living room.
Naturally, she sat next to Pops, and he kissed her cheek. After Khaira was born, my parents worked from home more and to me, Mom was less stressed.
“Erin, speak to my mom,” I said, tugging on her elbow.
She crossed her legs as false anger shimmered in her eyes.
“Marquise, I’ve already met Erin and where are your manners?” Mom corrected, passing me a heated stare.
“Hello, Mrs. Shaw-Jefferies,” Erin said.
“I’m okay with Anissa,” mom said. My parents’ conversation was light as I continued to bother Erin. I pulled on her hands and competed for her attention, drawing in her intense brown eyes.
“Erin, please tell me more about you. Marquise. Stop it,” Mom said.
“I recently graduated from college with a degree in music management and public relations. I’m also a self-taught graphic designer and an only child,” she said.
Smart and beautiful,I thought to myself.
“Really, do you have any examples of your work?” Mom asked.
Anissa Shaw-Jefferies was always scouting for new talent. Erin moved next to my mother with her phone in hand, showing her portfolio.
“I also went on tour with Jhae, Big G, and KC, organizing tour dates, social media and a few other background things,” Erin said.
“How was it to be on tour?” Mom asked.
Erin inhaled a hard breath before exhaling. “I prefer to only go on tour with women,” she answered, but didn’t go into detail.
Something about her answer pulled on my protective nature and triggered my trauma. A rapper or his flunky made her uncomfortable.
“Don’t worry about it. You’re only allowed to tour with women from now on,” I said as I focused on Erin.
She rolled her eyes as we entered a stare down.
“Marquise,” Mom said, and we both turned in her direction.
“He’s been a grouch from the moment we met, and it’s only been two days. Tell your parents how you tried to make me change my clothes. He also didn’t want to sit next to me in the car. Go on, tell them,” she said.
“Son, outside,” Pops said.
Erin smirked as if I had gotten in trouble. I stood on my feet with our eyes still locked.
“I’m twenty-four years old,” I said to her, and she hunched up one shoulder.
I followed Pops through the back door and down the brick path. We landed at the fire pit for privacy. I turned off my phone before we started talking.
“She got your nose wide open. You have never brought a woman to our house. I didn’t recognize you in there, playful and shit. You can’t keep your hands off her. It’s rude to come to my parents’ house and not sit with the host,” he mocked. “You made that shit up, but it was slick, though,” he said and I shrugged.
“I barely know her, but she got me acting out and shit. I see myself doing it and can’t stop it. It’s been two days and check this,” I said, tapping Pops’ arm. “I couldn’t get off this morning without imagining it was her. Fix me, Pops,” I begged as I gripped his arms.
Pops chuckled as I dropped my hands from his body.
“Son, you’re done,” he said.
“What do you mean?” I questioned.
