Page 26 of Real's Love
I wondered about that but didn’t comment. Instead, I followed Real’s lead and slid out of the booth. He surprised me by grabbing my hand again, but I didn’t comment on that, either. Ms. Ramona lifted a bag with some carryout plates and handed it to him.
“Tell his ol’ grouchy ass his tab getting high, too,” she fussed.
Real grinned. “You know how he willing to pay you,” he said.
She sucked her teeth. “I ain’t got time for them worms.”
“Mona, you so?—”
His response was interrupted when a bright voice called out, “Sorry I’m late!”
I watched as a young, Ms. Rachel clone walked toward us, followed by the hostess. Wherever these women got their genes, I needed to visit. The new arrival dropped kisses on the other women’s cheeks.
“Kinny, you always late,” Real said.
“Don’t do me like that, brother,” she mumbled as she threw her arms around him.
Brother?Real’s eyes were on my face as I struggled to keep it composed.No, this jackass didn’t!
“You ain’t gone introduce us?” “Kinny” asked, her brown eyes surveying me curiously. “Rude ass.”
“I ain’t rude. She met the important ones,” he shot back, before giving in. “Ev, you met my mama, Rachel, and my crazy ass aunt, Ramona. These are my nosy sisters, Kinshasa and Chennai.”
The sisters greeted me warmly, but the curiosity in their eyes was clear. They wanted to know whom their big brother was hanging out with. I didn’t like being caught out like this, but poise was everything.
“It’s cool how you’re all named after cities,” I said the first thing that came to mind, unable to believe he really had me in here meeting his mama. “Creative.”
“All the places I wanted to go when I was young and poor: Cairo, Montréal, Benghazi, Kinshasa, and Chennai. There were more but no more babies,” Ms. Rachel laughed.
“And now you could spend more time in those places if you’d quit micromanaging the restaurants,” Real told her, bumping her with his elbow.
She scoffed. “They’re my new babies. I’ll travel for pleasure more later.”
Handing me a box, she smiled again. “It was so good to meet you, beautiful. I couldn't let you leave without some of my baked goods.”
I thanked her again, hoping my attitude wasn't in my voice. I was so ready to get outside and curse Real’s ass out, something out of character for the sponsored version of me. We finished our goodbyes and made our way out the door. As soon as we were a few feet into the parking lot, I yanked my hand out of his.
“Real, what the hell?” I hissed.
He raised an eyebrow and his lips pulled in tight before he warned, “Watch your tone, shorty. The fuck you tripping about?”
My eyes widened incredulously. “What am I tripping about? You just let me meet most of your immediate family with no warning or anything!”
Instead of responding, he just kept walking until he made it to his car. He opened the door for me and stood there expectantly. I stared at him, mad as fuck, but I could tell he wasn't going to continue this argument here. I slid inside, and he closed my door before walking around. Starting the car, he pulled away from his mother's restaurant. A couple of miles later, he finally spoke.
“You got this list of all the stuff we don't do and what it's not like between us, remember? You not my girl, so why does it matter if you met my family? I was just trying to eat good, maybe bring my ol’ girl some new business.”
Ohhh! So, he was gon’ turn my words on me? He shrugged like it was nothing even as his words stabbed my chest. Wordlessly, I smiled, snapping back to myself. He just didn’t know; he’d given me the ammunition I needed. We rode in silence as I clutched the box his mama gave me. I knew he had food to drop off, but after that, I was going home. Eventually, he pulled in front of a nice little home in one of the northside subdivisions. I was surprised when he came to open my door.
“You’re doing a drop-off. I can—” I started to protest.
“Get out,” he demanded.
His tone told me not to argue. I got out, but I crossed my arms over my chest, in case he tried to grab my hand. Just petty, and his chuckle told me he knew it. We walked through a high fence that extended from the side of the house into a big backyard. An older man sat on the deck at a patio table, reading an actual newspaper. He looked up as we approached and lowered the paper before letting out a low whistle.
“Ooh-wee, you done went and got one of them big, fine ones, huh? Lawd Hammercy, please tell me you bringing her to me,” he gawked.
I shook my head as Real grilled him.
