30 Day Notice
The Eviction Chronicles
By
Kai Mann
*****
30 Day Notice
Published By:
Kai Mann at Smashwords
Copyright 2011 Kai Mann
Editing by Shonell Bacon
Cover design by Harry ‘Enigma Graphics’ Lawson
Smashwords Edition, License Notes.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is available in print at most online retailers
Kai Mann
Visit my website at http://kai-mann.com
30 Day Notice is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any re-semblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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30 Day Notice
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1-The Beginning of the End
Chapter 2- Back to the Very Beginning
Chapter 6- Sometimes the Creator Has to Sit You Down
Chapter 7- The Chickens Come Home to Roost
Chapter 8- A New Lease on Life
Chapter 9- Twelve All Over Again
*****
Acknowledgments
I give thanks to the spirit who has carried me throughout my journey; the spirit that remains to be there regardless of who I am or what I do. I thank you for speaking to me in whispers when I am still and speaking in volume when I am not. To my mother who is no longer with me in the physical but shares her spirit with me daily, I say “Thank you”. Mom, I honor you for being the vessel that carried me while lending your spirit of dance to me. I still feel you every time I dance. To my children, hopefully I didn’t drive you all too crazy with my texts on life. Those texts were all the things that I wanted you to know and since I wasn’t right in front of you, I did it the best way I could. Roxie, I thank you for sharing your life with me. Mostly I thank you for listening to my rants, reading countless poems, articles, pages, and Bible passages. I praise you for holding on while I wrote, went to meetings, tweeted and posted statuses and everything else in between. Nikia, my little sister, the one who always seemed to be so proud of her big sister and praise everything I do. Thank you for putting your stamp of approval on my life, your kind spirit is much needed and so appreciated. Andrea Latimore, my lifelong friend, the one who told me I could do this. You gave me guidance and always spoke in truth. Your honesty is what I love most about you. To Phette Ogburn, my mentor, and now my friend; thanks for reading this book in its beginning stages and for giving it a great review. And another thank you for all of the support, emails, phone calls, and just being the best mentor anyone could have. Your love and support is highly treasured. To Sylvia Hubbard and the Motown Writers Network; you were a school for unquenched learning. I still cannot get enough. I give you the highest honor for sharing your energy and your lifelong passion of writing and networking. I am forever a student. To my editor, Shonell Bacon, thank you for helping me with my baby. Your time and energy to assist me while in labor goes beyond grammar to pushing me to write as the reader would think. You are well worth more than you know. To my favorite niece Crystal Herring, thank you for putting my book flyers on the desks of all your co-workers. I’ve got much love for you Queen. To the rest of my family, thank you for allowing me to be me and celebrating me while I am here. To everyone else who has supported me by either reading my quotes, articles, poetry, posts, answering my questions, and indulging me in my dream, “Thank you”.
The journey is well worth the ride. Until next time . . .
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I wore her like a label across my neck
Symbolizing the highest plateau that one could get
Like oil strategically placed upon my skin
Like the very heart of her my soul could win
I wrapped my love inside of her heart
Like raging hormones a fire could start
Her love was placed high above many
No circular rotation it was definitely semi
Covered scars that represented all of her
Supplication secretly made with incense of myrrh
Plucking out roots from the tree of love
I found something more symbolic when I chose to rise above
Tattooed Heart ~Kai Mann
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Author’s Note
This book has been three decades in the making. The journey has been worthwhile in spite of the difficulties that came along with it. Even said, I still wouldn’t trade the journey for anything in this world. In the end, all I can say is “everything has truly been for the greater good.” I ask you to open your mind in order to understand the full scope of where the character was during this period so that you get the full picture. Some of this may be graphic, but I promise that you will get something equally enlightening from it as well. My hope is that after reading this book you’ll have a different outlook on life or an understanding of some-one else’s. If so, then I have fulfilled my purpose. My hope is that you’ll be challenged to look at the notices that you receive on a daily basis in your own life and decide to listen to those notices the first time that they are heard.
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Dedication
I’d like to thank the Creator who birthed an idea in me long ago and gave me the courage to ride this journey. I dedicate this book to my mother who is no longer with me in the natural but who dances with me in the spirit on a daily basis; here’s to you, Queen, for giving me the freedom to dance my heart and spirit into an overwhelming sense of peace without any condem-nation. To those who have loved me up close and from afar, peace be unto you and may your dreams also come true.
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Prologue
Leaving Florida was sad and invigorating at the same time. I can still feel every emotion of that time as if it just happened yesterday. As the plane was landing, my heart was pounding with fear and excitement at the mere thought of embarking on someplace new. It was a beautiful clear night. The city of Chicago was beautiful. It was the most beautiful place that I had ever seen. Coming from a small city in Florida and even living for three years outside of a military base, my world was small and almost non-existent. The lights on the buildings gave the city an indescribable spirit. It made me feel tingly. I smiled on the inside because I felt Chicago was going to be good for me.
While there I met good people who would define for me what it really means to live in Chicago. I was like a baby breathing air into its lungs for the first time. My lungs were so full that when I finally breathed out I felt like I could let go of everything that had me bound. Life had always taken some sort of twist or turn for me in the past, but I suppose it did for everyone though. At times the journey would seem as if it was taking me down a path for the worst. If I didn’t believe in God and knew better, now of course, I would’ve given up a long time ago. At a time when you’re just coming into your own and you’re trying to figure out who you are, I al-most gave up. I can remember the big picture window in the living room and wanting to run through it at a young age. I kept thinking to myself that I’d probably just end up cut up really bad and the glass wouldn’t cut any major veins. I thought that I would probably live through it and would just have scars as remnants of my failed attempt to end my short life.
I lived in a house where there were no guns that I could see, how quick and easy that would’ve been. I remember feeling so alone. I couldn’t tell my friends about what was going on inside of me; I couldn’t even explain it to myself. All I knew was that I had been feeling like this ever since I could remember. My mother always made sure that I had the best of everything. That was never the problem. The problem was that I was never talked to. Talked at, but never talked to. Even the people who called themselves trying to help couldn’t even rescue me. They too would help to create deep skeletons in my closet. Things that happened in the family had a way of staying in the family. My aunt would always wonder what would become of me. She could see through me, she knew that I was a child that would always seem to look for love. I would be that same child who would grow into an adult to continue to search for the same. She would not make it to assist me in my journey. I had to go at it alone. As time grew I tried everything that society would have me to be, including what they would call walking the straight and narrow path. Got married, had children, went to church three times a week, and even prayed about it, but that didn’t take away what was inside of me. It wasn’t until I decided to be happy with the person that I was that I became my most happiest. Even so, that happiness would come at a high cost.
It’s funny how you start out in one place to end up in another. I was raised in Florida and ended up in Detroit by way of Chicago. In search of self, I stopped along the way to pick up passengers who would fill in the empty spaces on the canvas of my life. I remember my first girlfriend and the first time we made love. As I lay there afterwards, I couldn’t help but say over and over in my head “This is it, this is what was missing!” Something that day just clicked for me. That time in my life would affirm for me who I really was. Since that day, the only choice that I had made was to be me and to happily be comfortable in my own skin. That very same girlfriend would teach me everything that I thought I needed to know about the lesbian life but when the time came, I had to fill in the rest. That relationship was over just as quick as it got started. Then, I met Layla. Layla would be the one I’d come to realize was my first “real” love. She was everything to me. I loved this woman like she was the very apple of my eye. The sun would rise and set with her. Layla would define for me something more than just physical; it was a mental and spiritual kind of love. Thoughts of her even now send the scent of Juniper Breeze rushing through my mind. Her Juniper Breeze would float through the air, tantalizing me right down to the core. Yes, Layla was the be all and end all of my existence. My whole world felt as though it started and stopped because of her.
The day she left, it almost did.
*****
The Beginning of the End
April 4th I woke up uneasy. I had been scrapping the side of my tongue with my teeth all night long and it was sore. Layla and I woke up on Aundrea’s couch feeling like we had been beaten with a bag of rocks. Well, I did if she didn’t. I dreaded this day and I became not mean or nasty, just pissy. I wouldn’t dare talk to Layla about it. She was walking around here like the day was the best day of her life because it was. It marked the first day of the rest of her life. Today began a new chapter for her and was the ending of one for me. I couldn’t blame her though; I knew what that was like. I’d felt that feeling before. I just guessed that now it was my turn to feel the sting of someone I love leaving me be-hind.
Even though it was a beautiful day, I didn’t notice it. I felt like I was driving to my doom. My quietness filled the empty spaces of the car; today was the last day and our time was up. As I was driving down the 405 to the L.A. airport, I couldn’t help but think “Man, it’s over.” So many emotions began to well up inside of me and I felt like I couldn’t do this, but I had to be strong and put on my big girl boxers. I pulled into the short term parking lot, helped her with her bags, and walked her inside. I knew I couldn’t stay there and watch her leave so I said, “Goodbye” and walked away without so much as a kiss or a hug. I’d never told anyone goodbye before. Goodbye always felt like forever, that’s it, no more, adios; I’ll never see you again. I knew that I probably would see her again, but I knew it would never mean the same ever again.
As I walked back to the parking lot, I began to feel numb. I got into my truck and made it a point to not look back. I headed back on the 405 in the other direction toward North Hollyhood, affectionately called that because it is the hood of Hollywood. I pushed play and Mary J’s “No More Drama” began to play. My feelings began to spread all over me like hot butter on third degree burns. I found myself crumbling and the composure that I was trying to keep lost its battle as tears strolled down my face. My phone rang and it was my sister. My sister’s timing was always right. As I got older, it was always like she could feel when something wasn’t right. Of course when I answered the phone she would have to ask me how I was doing and that made me cry even harder as she listened like the mother in her always did.
I could feel the life seeping from my body. I laid out for my sister the feelings that I had been trying to keep inside for thirty days as they spilled over and I could no longer talk and had to get off of the phone. I tried to convince myself as well as my sister that I would be all right. I didn’t even know how long the ride took or even how I got home, but somehow when I pulled up to Aundrea’s apartment complex, I knew it was time to get out. I took the elevator up to the fourth floor, placed my key in the lock, and began to thank God when I noticed no one else was home. I sat myself down and the pain of hurt overtook me once again. I cried like a baby as I lay balled up on the floor holding my knees to my chest. I couldn’t believe that the woman I had loved so dearly for the past five years could leave me. The woman whom I thought the sun rose and set because of her left me. My heart ached so badly. I could physically feel it breaking into a million pieces, so I held my chest as I swallowed hard, trying to take in air. I had never felt like this before. It wasn’t like I hadn’t ever broken up with anyone before because I had. This was different.
I finally got myself off of the floor and took a shower thinking that would help soothe me but it didn’t. I kept thinking “How in the hell did I get here?” I had always thought Debra Cox’s song “How Did You Get Here” was stupid, but now I knew exactly what she meant. Thirty days ago I was living in a three-bedroom, two-bath, two-car garage home, with a pool in Orange County and thirty days later, I was sleeping on Aundrea’s couch. What the hell happened? The sad part was I knew what had happened. Thirty days ago, Layla told me she was leaving and even though I knew it, something in me still did nothing about it. I was given thirty days and still wasn’t prepared. I guess somewhere in the back of my mind I thought she wouldn’t really leave me.
While I was still contemplating, Aundrea walked in and said, “Hey! How did everything go?” When I turned turn to look at her, I guess she could see how everything went. “Oh, not so good, huh?”
I pulled the covers up over my head and tried to act like I was going to sleep. All night long I could feel my-self tossing and turning. After five years of sleeping with someone and they were no longer there to nuzzle up under and spoon with, how the heck were you sup-posed to sleep? What was I supposed to do now with this left hand that always seemed to creep under her right breast as we lay asleep like two spoons in the silverware drawer? I could feel my tongue being scraped so hard that I thought my mouth was bleeding. The stress of what to do next even in my sleep haunted me. I woke up the next morning to go to a temp job I had lined up making half the money I was making after leaving my cushy job in Orange County because this time in my life had been carefully thought out by Layla for me. After returning from a trip back home to Detroit, she stated that she could no longer live on the West Coast anymore. She said that her children were unhappy and she felt like she was on the other side of the world. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing because this was the place that she chose to live over three years ago when she said she no longer cared to live in Detroit and wanted a new start. Me being me, I would’ve moved to Timbuktu if she had wanted to and would’ve been happy doing it. I wouldn’t have even cared if I had to wear a bone in my nose and put leaves on all of my private parts.
Trying to get myself ready for work, I ironed my clothes and I got into the shower. I tried to use the noise from the shower to drown my sobs and the water to rinse away my tears. I didn’t want Aundrea to hear me. The bathroom was literally in her room. I stood there lifeless for about twenty minutes before soaping up.
I couldn’t help but feel like this was the worst time to start a new temp job, but I still tried to seem pleasantly happy. The manager of the title agency came over and greeted me and gave me a quick tour of the office. I remember her giving me instructions on what I needed to do but for the life of me I couldn’t remember exactly what they were. Even though my mind drifted in and out on Layla, somehow I seemed to go through the motions exactly as I was told. I was on auto-pilot. At the copier, I thought of Layla. While entering in all of the loan documentation, I thought of Layla. I went over in my head every single day and every single moment that I could remember which all seemed good. When it was time to go to lunch, I walked over to Mickey D’s and grabbed a fish filet combo without cheese like normal but when I sat down to eat I took one bite and stared out the window. Forty-five minutes had passed and I had not taken another bite. I got up, threw away everything except the drink and headed back to the office. On my way I thought of the same things all over again until it was time to go home. When I pulled up to Aundrea’s, I realized once again that I had no idea of how I had gotten there. I was just glad the day was over and that I hadn’t killed myself or anyone else for that matter. I had an urge to write. Like always when things in my life weren’t going right, I needed to put my feelings on paper. This whole situation felt like it was burning a hole on the inside of me and if I didn’t get it out soon, I was going to go down in flames. I grabbed a journal from the back seat and began to write.
Right now I feel broken, like a person who was stripped down to nothing. The one person who I probably loved more than life itself is gone. Where do I go from here? How do I go on from here? My heart aches so badly. It’s all because I didn’t listen. I heard but I didn’t want to listen. Those subtle hints that people tell you without really saying the words . . . I heard them long time ago in my spirit but didn’t want to believe them. I didn’t want to hear the words even when they were spoken to me. I felt like all I needed to do was show more love, be more patient, let things just go, and now look how far it took me. I’m down to nothing once again. At least the first time I stripped myself bare to find myself, I had a bed, a room, something to retreat to. Listening to R. Kelley’s “I Believe I Can Fly” got me into this mess. Now I sit alone, lonely in my despair. Using Aundrea’s couch for a bed. How could I love someone else more than I love myself? How could I give up myself to fit into another’s world? Was I just being needy? Of all the people that I made myself available to, watching out for, doing for, making sure that they were okay, and now I’m not. I treated them better than my own family, but I guess that’s what I get. The people I have looked out for are not looking out for me. It’s my turn and when I turn around no one is here. No one could possibly understand the place that I am in. Why would they? I don’t even understand. God, help me to get out of this funk. This place is no good for me. I can’t feel any life around me. I feel like I am in the valley and the shadow of death is all around me. Lift me up, Lord, hold me to your bosom. Keep me close. Show me my errors and help me to get past all of the hurt and pain. God, please restore my soul.
Back to the Very Beginning
As soon as I walked in the door, I could hear Aundrea yell, “Kori, come in here for a minute!” I hadn’t even noticed the scent of Ganja but when I walked in the room, Aundrea was blazing up a fat blunt that resembled the width of a tree stump. “I got something for you, come sit, and let’s talk,” she said with a smile so wide on her face she almost looked like Geoffrey Holder, the man from the 7 Up commercials back in the day. I sat down on the edge of her bed, she handed it to me, and I inhaled as deep as I could on the tree stump. I was trying to listen to Aundrea as she spoke, but I began to drift, going back in my mind to how Layla and I had met.
I had relocated to Detroit from Chicago. The company I was working for went through a merger and since I had only been there for a short time and they already had someone else from the larger company doing my job, they decided they didn’t need me. Shortly after I had started working at the company, I had gone to a mixer and met a woman who was from Detroit. We got close and would go back and forth to hang out with each other. She to Chicago, and me to Detroit. Taking a big chance, I moved once again. We lasted about six months and I moved out into my own apartment. That was probably the best thing I ever did for myself as I had never lived alone before. I felt like a big girl!
After living in Detroit for about six months, I decided to start socializing and getting out into the new com-munity that I now called home. I had met Jay about four months prior at a party and we became thick as thieves instantly. Jay was kind of tomboyish but not. It just depended upon the day and what she felt like when she woke up. She was about my height with dark skin and a beautiful bright smile. Jay knew any and everything about Detroit, which was excellent because I knew absolutely nothing but how to get to work and how to get home. She showed me where and how to maneuver around the city and the surrounding metro area. Jay even helped me find a church home although she would never attend when I asked. She would say that she would never step inside of a church ever again. I figured it had something to do with how the church had treated her when she came out. One Sunday morning while getting dressed for church, I began thinking about how I wanted to begin my new life. Sitting in church later, they were giving the announcements when a woman stood up and started talking about a poet’s social networking group that was meeting later on that evening. I got excited in my spirit and since it sounded interesting enough, I thought I might go. I had been writing all my life in journals, notebooks, anything I could get my hands on, so I thought it might be cool to be in something organized.
Later I was going to Jay’s for dinner, so I thought I might drag her to the group meeting as well. As Jay and I were eating the dinner that she had so deliciously made with all the fixings, I told her about the social networking group and how I wanted her to go with me later. I could tell that Jay didn’t want to go, but she knew as my friend that she should support me. Jay, for some reason, had to clean up the dishes which she never did right after dinner and was taking her time talking. As a matter of fact she hardly ever cleaned up the same day.
I was thinking to myself, Why is she stalling? We are going to be late. Finally we left her house but not be-fore I helped her with the dishes and got her to shorten her conversation.
We parked on the street, went up to the community center, and walked up the stairs to the second floor. As soon as I opened the door, Bam! There she was. We tried to be quiet as we walked in. One of the ladies motioned for us to sign in on a clipboard as she was talking. For some reason, the clipboard just happened to be by Layla. I went to sign my name first but decided to let Jay go first so that I could get a good look at Layla without it looking so obvious. I looked over Layla; I could tell she looked good even if I could only see one side of her face. She never looked up. As I was signing my name, I thought to myself, Damn, she smells good! After a quick little self-sniff test, I came to the conclusion that I did, too. I wonder if she can smell me.
As I walked past her to an empty seat, I gave myself the once over in my head, slightly looking down at my-self. Okay, I look good. What am I worried about? I al-ways look good. That day was a lazy day, but I had on a pair of Tommy Hilfiger boot cut jeans, my black Tommy Hilfiger boots, a black turtle neck shirt, and a black Tommy belt to match the multi-colored green & black wool button down top that I wore over the turtle neck. Put it this way, I looked like a cool, laid back ese. I started laughing out loud at myself.
Aundrea broke my thoughts down memory lane when she asked, “What are you laughing at?”
“Oh, I was remembering when Layla and I first met.”
“That’s the first time that I’ve heard you laugh all week. I want to laugh, too. Tell me the story.”
I brought Aundrea up to speed on the story. When I finished, Aundrea said, “Kori, tell me about your relationship with Layla. I want to understand things from your point of view.”
“Do you want the short version or the long?”
“Whatever you feel like telling me.”
I decided on telling Aundrea the long version of how Layla and I came to be and how we got to where we were. It was weird but for the first time in my life, with all the writing I had previously done, I felt like I truly had a story to tell.
I walked around the table of ladies, and I sat at the exact opposite end of the table from Layla. She and I both were dead smack in the center at the head of each end of the table, where the King and Queen would sit across from each other. I looked her in her eyes and thought that she was the most beautiful woman I had seen in my whole life. When I finally got up enough nerve to tell Layla that in later days, she would say that it was obvious that I didn’t get out much. Her skin was light caramel, and she had dark fiery eyes. Her hair was a medium length and coal black. She had lips that reminded you of Cupid’s bow.
The president of the group wanted us to go around the table, say our names, say a little something about ourselves like what brought us there and who was the person that we could say influenced our lives the most. She asked Layla to start first.
“My name is Layla Bradford. I am a mother of three boys, I have two Rottweilers, a step-daughter, I was married for ten years, and I have decided recently to come out and be true to me. I am here with my tour guide Pleasure and my mother-in-law is the person who has most influenced my life.”
As she was speaking about her life, I was kicking Jay under the table, signaling to her that this woman had just spoken my whole life back into existence all over again.
We went around the table until it was my turn. “My name is Kori Maitland, and I have three sons and a step-daughter.” I glanced in Layla’s direction. “I came here today after speaking to Valerie at church. I have recently opened my own medical billing company.” I then proceeded to stand and pass out business cards asking if anyone knew of any physicians that were looking for a billing agency to do their billing when Layla said from across the table, “What a shameless plug” with a smile on her face. I began to laugh, as we all did. I knew I liked her right then. Not only was she beautiful, but she was funny. She had a dry sense of humor, but funny nonetheless.
After the meeting, Layla was talking to a few people and I felt compelled to give her my number. After she was done talking to the others, I went up to her and started asking her the ages of her boys and her step-daughter. Come to find out each one of her children were a year older than mine. Her boys ages seven, nine, and eleven. Our step-daughters were the exact same age. We exchanged numbers and as Jay and I left, I could hardly think of anything else but this wom-an whom I had just met that had been living my life for about the same amount of years as I. I was instantly smitten. I can still remember what she had on. She was wearing this beautiful light green oversized sweater, a jean jacket, black pants, and black flats. I saw her get in her car with Pleasure as Jay and I headed to the Detroit Auto Show. Jagged Edge’s “I Gotta Be” was playing on a CD in Jay’s car. I kept hitting repeat as I thought about this woman. Jay never said anything about me playing the song over and over, but I could tell that she knew what was up by the little smirk she had on her face.
The following Monday morning I had gotten to work at six trying to do whatever it was that I normally did when I was working, but this woman kept coming to my mind. I remembered that I had brought her number with me. It was about seven when I thought she should be up and getting her kids ready for school. I looked at the paper and dialed her number. The phone rang.
Her hello made me smile. Damn her voice is sexy in the morning, I thought.
“Hello, is this Layla?”
“This is she.”
“Hi Layla, this is Kori, we met last night. I just wanted to call and tell you to have a great day today!” Thinking about it now I probably sounded corny, but I didn’t care because I was truly digging her.
“Thanks Kori!”
By the sound of her voice I could tell that no one had ever done that to her before and that it was cool. I laugh now because that was the first time I had ever done that and I wondered why she didn’t say “Lose my number, stalker!” The funny thing was during this time I was seeing a few women. These women would write me letters, send me flowers, come clean my apartment, and do all sorts of things for me, but I had never reciprocated any of those things and always had an excuse of why I couldn’t be with any of them until now. I would say stupid shit like, her head was too big, or she was too this or that. My friend and business partner Tiffany would laugh at me and say, “You just haven’t found the right one yet, Kori, and until then there will be something wrong with everyone you meet.”
Layla and I would talk on the phone a couple of nights that week. The following week I sent her a bouquet of beautiful flowers to her job. No signature, the card read “Glad you made the decision to be you!” She had that card for a long time; I wonder if she still has it. I had plans prior to meeting Layla to go home to Florida to visit my family for a week. I would be leaving the following week and half. Before leaving I wanted to get to know Layla because I didn’t want her to forget about me. We’d talk so late at night that she would get this sleepy sexy voice, we’d hang up and I’d fall asleep in Layla Land. We became fast friends in a matter of days.
Thursday nights were my Karaoke nights and as my play brother Darius would say, “We would live” in Karaoke. One Thursday while at Karaoke, I wondered if Layla wanted to get out. I was in the basement of the Fischer Building and tried to call her. We got disconnected, so I went outside to get better reception and called her back. I told her where I was and told her that she should come hang out with me. I could tell by her response that she was glad that I had called.
“Let me get dressed, I’ll be down in about half an hour.”
I was excited because I hadn’t seen her since that Sunday when we met even though we had basically talked on the phone every night since. Darius was with me. He and I began hanging out a lot since we had met at Karaoke several months prior and clicked instantly. I was telling Darius that I had met this woman and how beautiful, sexy, and cool she was. I had to admit to myself that I couldn’t remember exactly what she looked like, but I remembered that she was stunningly beautiful. As we were sitting in a booth drinking and throwing our heads back in laughter, I saw Layla walk in and walk past the bar. She was looking even better than I had remembered except this time when I saw her she had on glasses. Layla walked in the joint like she owned that motherfucker! I got up to greet her and introduced her to Darius and he kissed her hand as she extended it to shake his.
“What are you drinking?” I asked.
“Moscato.”
I went over to the bar to order her glass of wine. For the rest of the night, we all talked and laughed like we all were old friends. When it was time to go, I walked Layla to her car and told her to call me when she got in so I would know that she was safe. She did.
Aundrea spoke, interrupting the story with eyes red as fire, speaking slow like she had to think about each word in order to say it. “Damn, Kori, you quick as hell, huh?” I laughed. She started talking again. “You don’t think you were moving too fast?”
“At the time Aundrea, I don’t really think that I was thinking at all with my head, just my heart. Can I finish the story, Miss?”
“Yeah, go right ahead.”
As Fridays go, I was usually hitting up the club scene. I was already at the club when Layla walked in. This woman walked with such class as if no one or nothing could touch her. I loved that! She was wearing a white blouse that had long sleeves and the bottom of the blouse wrapped around her waist as it accentuated her breast with such class. Not too much but not too little either! She was wearing the glasses again and had on some black pin striped slacks that hung low on her waist and fit just right. I had to admit that I was enamored by her and every time I saw her I couldn’t help but look at her. Most of my friends were there at the club that night, so when Layla walked in, I walked over to greet her. I introduced her to everyone. It felt kind of funny because it felt like my friends had a problem with her right from the start.
My friend Ra’ Shawn was her usual self and hit on her. For some reason Ra’ Shawn had a habit of hitting on anything that moved slow enough. Layla handled it real quick and smooth. I like that because it let me know that she could handle herself. Crystal immediately didn’t like Layla and gave her a half ass handshake. Another friend was looking her up and down like Layla had stolen something from her. You could tell she had a problem with her, too. I just thought that they were all being typical women feeling threatened by one another. When I came into the fold, I had been somewhat of a femme and quickly realized that was not me and entered my soft stud phase. Since I pretty much hung out with femmes I just thought that they were hating. Whatever the case, none of them were showing a sister any love.
On Saturday I was at another club where Layla and I had decided to meet. Layla’s friend Olivia, whom I had just met for the first time that night, was not as polished as Layla was, but they were the best of friends. Later I would come to love Olivia who seemed to always keep it real. Olivia reminded you of Mary J without all of the money. When they walked in, Cherry had just come up to me to say hello. Cherry was always funny to me because she thought for some reason unbeknown to me that we should be together. She was a closeted lesbian and my guess was that was the reason she always had so much drama going on in her life. She drank heavily because of it. I felt bad for her but honestly, I could never bring myself to date women who were in the closet. That made for too much drama because they were living double lives. That would just be too much for me to try and live their lie. Cherry was a teacher and she would be drunk every time that I saw her. She was dealing with a lot, but I never told her that I was interested, so I never knew where she was coming from with that.
When I saw Layla and Olivia walk in, I immediately excused myself from Cherry, said my helloes, gave hugs, and asked them both what they were drinking and they said at the same time, “Cuervo.” I went to the bar and got them each a drink. That night I danced with a couple of my friends and ended the night with a slow dance with Layla. I don’t think that I had ever slow danced with someone and we just fit. Our bodies moved in unison, no one in particular leading or following just moving together as if our bodies knew exactly what to do. When the dance was over, I walked Layla and Olivia to Olivia’s car as they had driven together. As I went to open Layla’s passenger door to let her in, she suggested that I take her home. Olivia instantly got mad. My guess is that Layla’s mother never told her about the most important friend rule: we come together, we leave together. That was one of the reasons why I had always traveled alone. That alone should’ve put me on notice but it didn’t, too busy thinking that I was the shit. I would come to realize that Layla leaves people, but I would find that out the hard way. I assured Olivia that I would make sure that Layla would get home safe. That seemed to ease Olivia’s mind so we walked away from Olivia’s car and over to mine.