Paperback and Final version available in 2013
Here is the first chapter prior to final edit.
Chapter 1
I slammed down so hard on the brake
pedal I broke the thong on my flip-flops. My favorite flip-flops. It took me
three summers to find those flip-flops and here I go breaking them running late
for an interview. I can’t remember if I got them online or offline. Never mind.
If I don’t get out of this car, I’ll be in the unemployment line.
My earrings
match my necklace. Check. My deodorant held up through traffic. Check. Flip
flops replaced with favorite black leather platform pumps. Check.
I’m not proud or ashamed that my Momma pulled
strings to get this interview for the fellowship. Janie Collins happened to be
my mother's sorority sister. I exited my car and managed the cutest fast walk
to Ms. Collins office possible without falling. Everything I studied and worked
for all of my life led up to one meeting with a woman my mother knew from her
sorority. In my mind, the first job I’d have would be the result of my stellar
style, brilliant interview answers and charismatic interview skills. Not a line
sister hook up, from my Momma.
When the
last application for a fellowship interview was mailed off, my father suggested,
I employ the revolutionary concept of using my parent’s connections. They
respected my protests until the final form letter thanking me for my application
arrived in the mail. Ten days later, I strolled into the Federal Health
Foundation offices of Macon, Georgia, in need of a job.
The day I
told my Dad about inspecting my tissue under the microscope, in fourth grade, he
told me to start saving for medical school. In his mind people fascinated with
germs, bacteria and viruses belonged in a doctor’s office with an "m"
and a "d" behind their name. It took me three years in college to
work up the courage to tell him the thought of being a doctor made my skin
crawl faster than centipedes. My Dad jumped up and clicked his heels. When I
found out how much money I’d saved in preparation for medical school under his
keen financial eye, I wanted to jump up and kick my heels.
“Good
morning.” I smiled as I whizzed through the double doors of the FHF building.
“Good
morning, place your purse on the conveyor.” A tall fine brother waved me
through the scanner and searched my belongings for “security reasons.” I enjoy
being frisked as much as the next girl but I’m sure, Wilson, would be feeling
some kinda way about me letting some tall bald rent a cop grope me for a
cheap thrill.
“Thank you,
ma’am. Do you know where you’re going?” The security guard said.
“Janie
Collins on the third floor.” I tried not to stare at his flawless skin.
“Elevators
are around the corner. I’ll call to let her know you’re here.” He smiled.
“Thanks.” I
flashed a smile and climbed onto the elevator with a good feeling about my
interview.
No one wanted
me to get this interview more than Wilson. Sometimes I wondered what I did to
deserve such a supportive boyfriend. His curly hair, butterscotch skin and
smooth baritone voice gave me countless reasons to carve time out for him every
weekend. I believed we would have cute little light brown babies.
He hinted
to wanting more from our relationship than college sweetheart status. My
parents liked his parents and his parents adored me. His mother and I already
spent time together without him. Only thing sweeter than how our families
interacted was the way he attended to my every need. A girl couldn’t dream of a
better boyfriend than Wilson. If she did, it would only be Wilson with chiseled
muscles and a few inches taller, because a man could never be too fine or too
tall.
A giggle
escaped as I rehearsed the answers to the standard interview questions Porsche
and I practiced all weekend. I anticipated being questioned about everything
from my five-year plan to my social media expertise. Porsche drilled me on all
of the fine points of interview etiquette so well I wondered if I should have
received a shot of Novocain.
The
receptionist waited behind a lobby desk. “May I help you young lady?”
“Anisa
Links, I have an appointment with Janie Collins.” I rocked back and forth.
“Have a
seat, Ms. Links." The receptionist said.
I wanted to
wipe the smug look at my four-inch platform pumps and trendy business suit from
her face, but I knew office violence before I interviewed might hinder me from
making a good impression. My phone
occupied my time as I waited. I’d finished my fourth game of Fruit Ninja when I
heard a door open.
“Anisa?” An
older version of a woman I recognized from my mother’s college pictures stood
inside of the doorway of an office several feet away from the receptionist
station.
I waved at
her as all of the confidence oozing from me seconds ago, disappeared. “Hi, Ms.
Collins.”
“How is
your mom?” Ms. Collins motioned toward a chair.
“She’s
good, she sends her love.” My feet tapped out the rhythm to "Single Ladies".
“Good, so
let’s get down to business.” Ms. Collins pulled out a legal pad. “There aren’t
many candidates for this internship. I’ve looked at the applicants and
interviewed the other two with the most potential earlier today. So you’ll have
the benefit of knowing if I’m going to go with you or one of them by the end of
this interview.”
The room
felt smaller. No one mentioned anything about getting her decision today. Most
fellowship decisions came via a letter where my tears of disappointment or
happy dance happened in private. Maybe I
wanted to wait it out a few days. Yeah, right. “Awesome.”
My lips
moved and made words but don’t expect me to remember anything I said in
response to Ms. Collins. My emotions teetered on the brink of panic and
excitement under the weight of the results of the interview.
***
Zoe’s
cheekbones made supermodels jealous. Her skin made aestheticians drool. Height
alone stopped her from being America’s Next Top Model or magazine vixen. Nothing
and no one could tell me she wouldn’t have been splayed all over the hood of
someone’s car as an ornament of seduction. Lucky for us, fifty-nine inches
doesn’t look good on more than Twitter and Facebook photos.
Ebonee
sashayed in behind Zoe looking like a million bucks despite being on a tighter
budget than a politician is after a failed campaign. She wouldn’t win any model
competitions but her height and build made every girl we knew in high school
including Zoe, glow with jealousy. Lean legs and cinched waist without counting
calories, doing crunches or driving by fitness centers. Enough to make any sane
woman scream, good thing I’m too crazy to be jealous of her figure.
“A
to the nisa!” Zoe air kissed and sat across from me. “So are we wallowing our
sorrows or toasting to the champagne life?”
“Government
employees don’t live the champagne life ...more like in boxed wine comfort.” No
longer able to hold it in I grinned and squealed. “Ms. Collins says I should
enjoy my fellowship with her department very much.”
Zoe
and Ebonee jumped and down in their seats as if they won a sweepstakes. My
heart skipped a beat as I watched the fourth amigo to our friend square
approach our booth.
“Congratulations,
Nisa.” She shooed me over in the booth. “I heard y’all at the front of the
club. When do you start?”
“I
won’t know all of the details until I receive the letter from Ms. Collins. You
guys don’t post anything on FB or Twitter because I haven’t told my parents or
Wilson yet and I want it to be a surprise when I spring it on him.” Part of
being almost best friends with my honey made telling my girls first, a problem.
Hard to explain the bond of friends since elementary school to someone you fall
in love with in college.
“Geesh,
Anisa. That boy needs to grow some man parts. We’ve known you since before you
were in love with Dwayne Wade. You still wear his jersey and he is booed up
with that actress.” Zoe giggled.
“Don’t
be catty, Z. Goodness. I love me some DWade because his game is tight. No other
reason. He is a good father, too, but my man Wilson is no chump.” My arms
crossed in spite of my protest. I haven’t crushed on Dwayne Wade since my first
year of college.
“That
crush is nothing compared to the obsession you still have with Shemar Moore,
Zoe. My goodness, he is your phone screensaver, computer wallpaper and Facebook
cover. We had to talk you down from photo shopping yourself into a picture with
him for your tumbler background.” Porsche laughed.
“Don’t
hate. I’m the perfect height for Mr. Moore. And the rest of the package doesn’t
even need mentioning. As soon as I run into him in Hotlanta ...his babies and
heart are mine.” Zoe rolled her eyes and sipped from the drink the waiter sat
in front of her when I wasn’t looking.
“Yep,
and Anisa is gonna dump Wilson when we go see the Falcons play the Heat.”
Ebonee guffawed.
“The
Hawks?”I blinked in confusion.
“I
said it right.” Ebonee sniggled.
“Speaking
of Hotlanta, I won some tickets to the World Natural Hair Show and we should
all go as part of an extended celebration for our girl becoming a distinguished
fellow of the FHF courtesy of her amazing resume and dedication to excellence.”
Porsche lifted her glass and motioned for everyone else at the table to join
her.
“Yeah,
it didn’t hurt that the head chick in charge and her mother were line sisters
in the pumpkin and teal.” Zoe sniggled.
“My
mother being a member of Sis Phi Sis may have helped me get the interview but I
secured the position. Thank you!” I fought the urge to pop my friend in the
back of the head and clinked glasses. “The show sounds like fun, Porsche. I’d
love to go.”
“Well,
when one celebrates we all celebrate. I will find a sitter and we’ll ride out
early next Saturday morning. Who knows D. Wade and Shemar may be in town as
celebrity guests they’ve had all kinds of stars at their events.” Ebonee said.
“It’s
a date. I won’t be able to go to the movies with you guys, Friday. I can’t
leave Wilson unattended the entire weekend or I’ll hear about it all week
long.” Reading menus to avoid eye contact is one of my best avoidance
techniques in restaurants.
“Don't
make any sense for a grown man to be that needy.” Zoe clucked her tongue.
“You
say needy, I say attentive. Call it what you want, his ringtone for me is
‘ain’t no chick like the one I got’ and I intend to keep it that way.” A wave
of my hand brought the server to our table and cut off Zoe’s reply. She came
off sharp sometimes but I always believed she was still hurt from Derrick
breaking her heart senior year of high school, a month after her brother died.
***
Three
years into the relationship and Wilson continued to open doors for me. Two of
my friends' boyfriends stopped pulling out chairs and opening car doors as soon
as they passed the one-year anniversary mark, especially if they sampled the “cookie.”
Add Wilson’s resemblance to Terrence Howard and you can imagine the smile on my
face when I’m in his presence.
“So,
what is with the million watt smile?” Wilson pulled my chair out for me.
“You’ve kept me in suspense all week long. Did you get the internship?”
The
waiter approached the table. “Good evening, folks. Welcome to the Bistro. I’d
be happy to take your drink orders.”
Wilson
cleared his throat. “I’ll have a Merlot and she’ll have a cabernet.”
The
urge to roll my eyes almost overtook me but I stopped it just shy of the rim of
my eye. “Thank you but I’d prefer a Pinot Noir.”
“Wait,
should we hold off and order champagne to celebrate?” Wilson signaled for the
server to wait.
“That
won’t be necessary.” The server left the table as I shook my head. “Thank you for
moving our movie date up to Friday.”
“You’re
enjoying this torture, aren’t you? Is that what I have to look forward to in
our marriage? You drawing out news to tease and titillate me into frenzy.”
Wilson leaned across the table.
“Stop
that, Wilson. Of course not. I just wanted to wait until we were alone. This
restaurant is no place to tell you something as personal and life changing as
landing my dream job on my climb up the ladder of success.” Happiness spread
through my body as Wilson’s eyes lit up.
“You
got the job. You GOT THE JOB! My baby interning at the FHF.” Wilson smiled.
“My
mother’s line sister is the program director for my fellowship, which is the
only reason I even know, it isn’t public knowledge, yet. It isn’t an internship
because I’m getting paid, traveling with her to do presentations and other
stuff most people in internships don’t do.” My smile matched his smile.
“I knew you’d get it, and not because of your
mom’s line sister. You’re the smartest, prettiest, woman I know. That is why I
fell in love with you.” His lips felt like butter as they touched the top of my
hand.
“The
girls are taking me to the World Natural Hair show in Atlanta this weekend to
celebrate. That is why we need to move our movie date to Friday. They said they
would if I get the fellowship, since Porsche won a four person VIP ticket
pack.” The piece of bread I attempted to chew caught in my throat.
“You
actually waited to tell me first. Wow! That is big for you babe. Those chicks
know everything before I do. At least I’ll be able to say I knew this first,
I’m flattered. Do your parents know yet?” Wilson sipped his wine.
“I
haven’t spoken with my mom, so I don’t know what her line sister told her. They
may or may not know. It’s not a competition. Telling you now is what matters
for us, right?” Zoe’s words bounced around my mind.
Wilson
laughed. “I sound silly, I know. Just these marriage articles and books say the
relationships that last are the ones where the couple is each other’s best
friends. That is what I want with us. I want to be your best friend so one day,
I can marry you.”
“Oh,”
the bread in my mouth became drier. “Let’s focus on the friendship on our
terms. Being best friends doesn’t mean dibs on new information or any other
silly rules. Relax and I’m sure everything will fall into place.”
“True.
You’re so good for me. I love you ‘Nisa.”
“Once
this semester ends and the fellowship begins I’ll have to plan my schedule
better,” My eyes filled with love. “You’re very special to me, the best guy
friend I’ve ever had for sure. That is something that won’t ever change.”
“I
hear you. Just trying to be the hip-hop in your left thigh, trying to become
the neo soul in your right.” Wilson tried to give me bedroom eyes and a sexy
eyebrow lift.
My
own eyebrows lifted in shock. “You’ve got to stop watching "Love
Jones" you’re no Lorenzo Tate and I’m not trying to be Nia Long. Let’s
just be us and see where love takes us. On our wedding night, you may be the
jazz in my left thigh trying to become the r &b in my right. I love all
four kinds of music.”
