Page 41 of Finesse
I know these things because of our conversations. Any man she’s with, there’s a reason for it and it’s never because ‘they’re different.’ They always have to bring something out of her that no one else ever had before. She’s like a sponge and not necessarily in a good way.
She’s never in the same place for too long and when she’s there, she’ll quickly adapt to the customs and lifestyle of whoever she falls in bed with. Once she’s bored of the person (because she really doesn’t discriminate when it comes to dating), she’ll leave town and move to start yet another adventure.
She changes her number frequently but I like to think it’s because of creditors and exes she might have burned so I can never get a hold of her unless she calls me first. And even then, there’s no guarantee she’ll keep the same number for longer than a month or two.
I don’t know if I’m jealous or irritated with her. She has a nomadic lifestyle without the stress of actually being one. She never carries anything more than what can fit in a large duffle bag and she never stays in one place for very long.
She never has to worry about paying rent or pesky things like bills or a forgotten child.
I’m rather curious about this reincarnation of Laurie. I wonder how long she has been with this guy before she realized maybe the nomadic lifestyle wasn’t anything compared to receiving a Birkin.
“How’s school? You’re still in school, right?” She tsks as if she’s trying to think of something. “That one named after that woman, right?”
Laurie wouldn’t know a thing about Black history if it were presented to her in the form of cash. “I’m not attending Bethune-Cookman.” I politely correct her. “I’m attending Clark Atlanta and I’m graduating in a few hours, actually.”
“That’s my girl.” She beams with pride. “I always knew you could do it! And you’re majoring in…?”
“Business.” We’ve had this conversation numerous times and yet, it always seems like it’s the first time we’ve ever had it.
“Good, good.” There’s the long pause again. I briefly hear the whisper of someone else in the room. She must be telling her new sugar daddy about me and forgot details like what college and major I’m in. Joy. “How’s that going for you? You’re doing well, yes?”
Laurie has an accent that I’m not entirely sure where it comes from. It’s not British or German. I think it’s completely made up so she can sound more cultured. “I’m doing well, yes.”
“What do you plan to do with that major?” She asks. Again.
I bite my tongue and let out a deep, Negro spiritual sigh. I can thank Tesh for that. “I plan to take over Daddy’s coffee shops.”
“Oh, that’s right. He owns that little business.” And there comes the snob attitude associated with fake wealth. The real wealthy know the value of a dollar, that’s why they can either be hella generous or hella cheap, but they’ll never look down on anyone building for themselves. I can thank Cameron for that. “How’s that going? Good, yes?”
“Yes.” If I bite my tongue any harder, I’m going to break it off.
“That’s good, that’s good.” More whispering. It sounds like someone is giving her instructions on what to ask. “And what about love interests? Are you dating anyone?”
This would’ve been the time I would’ve gushed about Cameron. The trip to New York. The bracelet I still have. How he met Daddy. How he saidI love youfirst. How we shared a love for 80’s R&B and interesting Nicholas Cage movies.
Instead, all I have are memories. “No, not really.”
“Ah, I see. Well, you’re too young to date.” Another pause and some more whispering. The refrain was working my last nerve. “You have a birthday coming up. What would you like?”
Laurie actually forgot my birthday. It takes a special kind of woman to forget a child’s birthday, especially one she birthed. In all of the conversations I’ve ever had with my mother, it was the first time she’d suggested buying me something for my birthday.
Now I know this dude is really rich. “I’m good, but thank you, Laurie.”
I could hear the frown on her face. She’s never liked me calling her by her government name but she had yet to prove she was worthy of being calledmother.“Very well. I’ll make sure to send something to you. Something lovely. You’re still a size 10, right? Or did you gain weight?”
I’m a size 14 now and I’m not entirely sure when was the last time I was a 10. Probably when I was 10. “You don’t have to, Laurie. But thank you.”
“Very well.” More whispering. “I’ll be home soon. I want you to meet someone when I arrive.”
“Okay.” My reaction isn’t of disappointment nor excitement. Laurie’s been promising me to bring home someone for years now. She never has because the relationship would end by the time my birthday arrived. I expect this one will as well.
“Be a good girl for me, darling.” There goes Mariah Carey again. “Give my love to your father.” The line went dead.
The sudden abruption surprises me, though it shouldn’t. The way Laurie treats me is the same way she treats everyone and everything else in her life: stay long enough to make an impact, but quickly exit so one wonders if it truly happened.
Eighteen
“Hey College Grad!” Hayley and Meadow comes in with more shopping bags, this time from Anthropologie. They’re known for their $200 jeans and $100 sweaters. I see Que was generous with his wallet and spent a small fortune on Hayley. Her closet is turning into a boutique.
