“So, Sky? Did someone piss in your Sex on the Beach?” Iyana asked, as they sat around the pool after winning the karaoke contest. They lip-synched “I Don’t’ Want No Scrubs” with Iyana posing as Chili, Rickey as Left Eye, and Sky as T-Boz. The crowd went wild as they performed like they had been a group all of their life. It was spontaneous, but it was a song they all knew, allowing Iyana and Sky to wound and pop their hips whenever Rickey was rapping.
“Nope,” she answered, still bummed about what happened a few nights ago.
This was their last day and she couldn’t even enjoy the trip as that dull ache she had in the middle of her chest grew stronger each day she didn’t hear from him. Shyne decided to take off, telling her he needed some time to think and for her to not contact him. Once again, Sky lied to her superiors, telling them he got sick with a stomach virus, forcing him to leave early. At this point, she didn’t care about her career. All she cared about was Shyne, but she wasn’t sure if he felt the same.
“Well, bitch, wake up!” Rickey said sitting up, as he pulled his shades down to his nose. “You killing the vibe over here. Don’t you see all these fabulous men walking around for the taking, and you acting like you’re at a funeral. Shoot, if I had them thick ass thighs and breasts you have, we’d be staying for an additional week.”
He was flawless, wearing a long, fluorescent, silver see through dress complementing his nicely tanned, toffee colored skin. Underneath, his pink bikini set was complete with bikini bottoms that flared out like a skirt. He’d mastered how to tuck his genitals but when he saw it, he had to have it, as it went well with his fluorescent dress that changed colors under the sun. Iyana was more conservative, choosing a purple one-piece that was opened on each side, revealing her firm, flat stomach, while Sky wore a white, beaded two-piece that didn’t leave much to the imagination, as she bought it for Shyne.
“I’ll pass. Look, let me go to my room and start packing. This margarita is so not my current situation. What a fucking bummer,” she complained, getting up to head back to her room.
“Uh, okay, boo. We will be up in an hour. I think tonight is Mexican night,” Iyana said, extremely worried about her bestie who seemed out of it.
“Mexican? Awe, damn! That means your ass gone be farting, Iyana. I’m going to Sky’s room tonight!”
“Boy, stop lying. That was you shooting those torpedoes out your ass the other night when we ate those tacos. Them lil’ poots smelled worse than Ishmael when he was a baby, and his was a funky lil’ something.”
Looking around like someone would hear him, Rickey said, “Damn, it was that bad?”
“Yes, so maybe you skip Mexican night and order room service, and I mean food. Not no young Caribbean man you promised to smuggle into the country,” she teased, as Rickey had met a few “down low” Jamaican men that begged him to spend time with them.
“Naw, I’m good. These motherfuckers don’t like air condition. They won’t be living in my house with all the windows open 365 days a year like we on the island. No, thank you. Besides, I met me a nice tenderoni on Soul Swipe last month,” he bragged, ordering him another appletini.
“What the hell is Soul Swipe?” Iyana couldn’t drink like Rickey and Sky, still nursing the mojito she had for the past hour.
Whenever she got drunk, she became another person, almost freakier than she normally was. There was one time she got so drunk at a wedding she attended with Elijah, that she boldly straddled him in a room full of people, taking him right there, and he let her. Everyone else was so drunk, they didn’t even notice but it was the best sex she’d ever had. That is until she had it with Keyz.
“Oh, girl. It’s a dating site for black people in your local area. Now, you know Rickey can snatch the best of them, but I’m tired of meeting these lame ass down-low men who think they’re doing me a favor,” he said with feelings of sadness sweeping in, as he thought of his latest boy toy back at home.
They met at a gas station late one night. Rickey was leaving Boosters, a local gay bar, when his gas light came on. Before he could pump his gas, an arm reached around him asking him if he needed help. No matter how feminine he looked, Rickey was taught to fight by Shyne, taking down boys almost twice his size growing up. Before the night was over, Rickey was taking it from the back, all the while his new friend huffed in his ear that this was a one-time thing because he wasn’t a punk. They had been off and on for a few months, but once Rickey gave him an ultimatum, his mystery lover’s calls came inconsistently, but right before their trip, he came and rocked Rickey’s world, causing him to relapse.
“So, have you met anyone interesting?” Iyana stood up and stretched, showing her toned body.
“Now look, sit your little ass down before Hercules Keyz pop out behind the bushes and shit. I ain’t got time to be fighting his big ass. You know how he is with them pop ups.”
It was true. They’d be out having a girls’ day at the mall, or eating at a local eatery, and Keyz would somehow know where they were. Although he always had a good reason to be in the same area, that was the little joke that ran amongst them. Iyana smiled thinking about how much she missed him. He Facetimed her this morning, letting her know he wouldn’t be in town when she got back, but he expected her to be in his house when she touched down.
“Yea,” she sighed dreamily.
“So, Justin Beiber?” Rickey asked, peeling himself from his lounge chair. “Have you finally broke it off with him? You know, between me and you, I think it’s weird you have all of this free time. Like, what is he telling you because I personally think you’re stalling? I don’t know why, but you are. It’s been how long now since Keyz put a lock on the pussy?”
Squirming when he said it, Iyana laughed, feeling guilty because she wasn’t ready to have that conversation. Elijah told her about a new software IBM was developing that required him to be on the road. Their calls were short, but he reached out every day, mostly while she was at work or at the community arts center. She lied to Keyz, not ready to tell him she still hadn’t broken it off, but he seemed distant the last few days since she first arrived in Jamaica. She promised herself she would make him a nice dinner, with a bottle of wine ending the night, soaking in the Jacuzzi until he fucked her to sleep once she got back. She wasn’t sure what was wrong, but she wanted to please him making his troubles go away. At least until he was ready to tell her.
“A little over a month,” she winced, biting her lip. “Come on and let’s shower before I grab another drink, jumping all of on top of you.”
“Bitch, I may have a dick but it’s inoperable unless a stallion of a man is requiring its’ presence. Don’t play,” he said, whipping his 30-inch, spiced cognac Peruvian weave. His breasts weren’t big, but enough, as he was almost a year into his treatment. He put on a good face, but he pushed his shades on, nearing tears as he missed his boo.
“Ugh, I hate you,” she laughed, running off.
“Run on wit’ your indecisive self. You about to start a war between Ice Ice Baby and Suge Knight!” he yelled, secretly wiping his tears. He hated wanting someone that chose to live a lie rather than walk in their truth.
“Sup,” Keyz answered with his eyes closed.
He had barely slept since the night he found out about Chico and Myriah’s betrayal, or even left his house. Shower came to pick up Ishmael a few days ago, promising to keep him until they got word about Myriah. Everyone knew Myriah was a sensitive subject for him, so instead of intruding, they gave Keyz his space. He reached out to Tone and told him he’d be off the grid for a few days, avoiding Skebo, who would know something was wrong. He wasn’t sure how Chico was handling it, but his anger only fueled him, causing him to think irrationally. He heard that Myriah was finally up, so he asked his sister to take Ishmael to see her.
“Hi,” she said, her voice laced with regret. He knew they would eventually have to talk, but he wasn’t ready for more lies. He wanted answers, and with that came more pain and a need to fight for his son. He was a pro at being angry, but not betrayal by those closest to him. No, this was something new and damn near unbearable.
“I’m not letting him go,” he said, his eyes now open, staring at the ceiling fan that quietly spun over his head. It was more for show as the blades were large leaves, but it calmed him as each night he watched them spin, offering some relief to his chaotic state of mind.
“I know,” she replied, her voice hoarse from all the crying and screaming she’d done over the past few days. She was being discharged from the psychiatric unit under her parents’ care, so home would be their house until she completed her mental health treatment plan. She was embarrassed but felt even more guilt, as Papa B was more than enough to handle without adding her to the mix.
“So why the fuck you calling?” he belted, as he shot up from the bed full of rage.
“Be—be—because we need to talk,” she whimpered, breaking down again. She did nothing but pray once she realized death was not her sentence, begging God to remove all those demons she carried that led to self-destructive behaviors. Somehow, she figured God must have hated her because Keyz’s fury emitted through the phone as if he were there. She expected him angry, but this was more. This was hatred.
“You know what? Never mind. Kiss my baby for me,” she said, hanging up before he lashed out even more.
“Fuck!” he barked, gripping his cell, almost breaking it.
All he kept hearing was the nurse tell Chico to expect another child in seven months. What got him was she said another child meaning Ishmael wasn’t his. His cell lit up reminding him of all the people he’d been ignoring. He knew he was wrong after he told Iyana to go to his spot, but he didn’t want to take his rage out on her, losing the next best thing in his life. So he ducked off to a new condo near downtown West Palm Beach he’d just purchased. Unlike the days of old where he had different spots for random women, this one was for business once he decided to open up an upscale restaurant, completing his plan to get out of the game. Iyana not only blew him away with her personality, but her kitchen skills amazed him, as he hoped to use her as a consultant as he built an empire for her and his son.
Keyz: Sup, bae.
Cheeks: You okay? I’m worried.
Keyz: I’m good. Stop worrying.
Cheeks: Why aren’t you answering my calls? Are you with some bitch?
Keyz laughed at her trying to boss up on him through a text message. Iyana rarely cursed, but whenever she did, it was whenever she was with Rickey or Sky. Never at him, and he loved that about her. It was that innocent factor that drew him in day one, that still tugged at him even now, fifteen years later. Instantly, his mood shifted and he wanted to talk to her, ease her mind, because she was the last person that deserved to be mistreated by his own actions.
“So, you finally remember me?” she sniffled, although she tried to hide she was crying.
“Cheeks, baby. Why you crying?” he asked, lying back in bed wishing she was there. He loved smelling her skin she covered it in coconut or shea butter after a shower. In fact, if he was around, he required her to lay down so he could do it for her, admiring her small curves that he wanted to fatten up one day with a baby.
“Who says I’m crying? Maybe it’s my allergies or something,” she pouted, hating he knew she was crying.
“That snotty ass nose of yours. Don’t be fucking up my face, Cheeks, with all that crying. Bet you got it all ugly. Stop that, ma.”
“Oh—okay,” she cried, blowing her nose.
She was an emotional child growing up, but this was different. It was like she wore her emotions on her sleeve as of late, and she was missing him something terrible, as she laid his in his bed with his Orlando Magic t-shirt on. She would even say since they linked up, she’d toughened up just a little bit, but his absence shook her already fragile mind.
“Talk to me. Tell daddy what’s wrong.”
He hated making her cry, almost willing himself to get up and jump on I-95 to soothe her pain while she silently soothed his. He knew why she was crying, hating to be the source of her sadness. Especially with having two younger sisters who learned the power of crying to get what they wanted when they were little. As adults, they still did, but blamed it on that time of the month. Yea, maybe her lil’ ass about to get her period. Her ole weepy ass.
“I just miss you. That’s all. Why did you tell me to come here if you weren’t gone be here, Keyz? Like, I could have gone home. I haven’t even told my grandparents I’m back yet, wanting to spend a few days with you alone. It’s been two days.”
“Look, Cheeks,” he said interrupting her before she spazzed out. “A nigga got a lot on his mind right now. Even though I’m not there, knowing you in my bed does something to me, so chill. I’ll be there. I just gotta handle something that popped off while you were gone. Now blow your nose and go wash daddy’s face. You fucking up, ma. Don’t ever think Keyz on some shady shit. Everything I do is for a reason.”
His speech, not sitting well with her, conjured up one question after another, which was unusual for her when it came to him. When Keyz spoke, she listened, but this feeling that he was in danger gnawed at her since he called her late that night in Jamaica. Still getting to know him, she waited patiently, deciding to probe once she saw him, but she couldn’t take it anymore. After all of these years, she was not prepared to have a life where he didn’t exist sending her into panic mode.
“Like what? Are you hurt? Did something happen to you? Where are you? You need me to come? What motherfucker bothered you? Huh? Tell me!” she rambled like a crazed person, wishing she knew where he was.
“Hell, naw, a nigga not hurt. And watch your mouth cursing and shit. I’on like that, Cheeks. Not from you,” he sighed with frustration. “Just got to tie up some loose ends. Ain’t no bitches here and ain’t nobody hurt. I’m a grown ass man. I wouldn’t even fuck with you if I was on some creep shit like that, Cheeks. I’m still trying to play catch up. Like, I missed fifteen birthdays, Valentine’s Days, Christmas. I see how my sisters go bat shit crazy over stuff like that, so why would I fuck you over? Iyana, you listening?” he asked, saying her real name to get her attention.
“Yes,” she mumbled.
“Naw, are you following me?” he inquired, not liking how unenthusiastic she sounded.
“Yes,” she said a little louder, sniffling.
“Your ass on punishment. If I didn’t want that pussy so bad, you wouldn’t get this wood over here, but after I knock the lining out, you won’t get none of this big motherfucker until I say so. Gotta a nigga dick harder than Chinese arithmetic thinking about that pussy.”
“Stop that,” she squealed, feeling herself cheer up while getting aroused.
She had her dildo since she took it to Jamaica, but she didn’t want that. She wanted him. It seemed like that’s all they did, but she knew he wanted more. They both did. They just needed to find a way to merge their rather busy lives to put in the time to get to know who they were now as adults. She knew when he was sleepy because he would shake his right leg at night in the bed. She also knew he was meticulous, keeping a clean and organized house, which was different than Elijah and strangely enough, she knew when something was bothering him. It wasn’t anything he said, but more of the way he would sometimes just sit not wanting to talk, but still wanting her around.
“Oh, I’ma stop right after I put you to sleep. And Cheeks?” he whispered, feeling his heart flutter as he imagined her lying in his bed.
“Yes,” she quickly replied.
“I’d let that white ass nigga have you, ma, before I drag you along, and you know I cancelled that the first night you let me eat that pussy. Just say you choose me. Make Keyz happy right now because after my son, you the only one that can make me happy. So, what’s it gon’ be? You gon’ trust your man and choose me back?”
“I did… the first day we met,” she whispered, playing with her hair that was a curly fro after getting it wet in Jamaica.
Keyz’s face hurt from smiling so hard hearing her say that. He went against everything he said he wouldn’t do, indulging in all type of sexual escapades, as he failed miserably trying to stay from between her legs. The only difference was he never spoke on her to his boys and never intended to until he sorted his life out. He had plans and those plans included having her and his son under the same roof with him, making nothing but legal money.
“Damn, Cheeks. You got Keyz blushing,” he said, trying to stifle his laugh.
“No way. That’s impossible,” she said, now jumping up and down in his bed like the blonde girl did in the movie, Bring It On, while listening to the CD her crush made for her.
“Hey, girl. What’s all that noise? Don’t break nothing until I get there.”
Plopping down on the bed, almost out of breath, she said, “Okay, you Grinch.”
“What?” he said, daring her to repeat herself. She was only allowed to call him two things: Keyz or Daddy. Anything outside of that was considered a violation in Keyz’s eyes.
“Okay, daddy.” He could tell she was smiling, which was something he wanted to do every day as long as he was in her life. She deserved that and more, even though she still struggled with her self-esteem.
“Good girl. Now pull some money outta my safe. Get whatever you want out of there. I can’t spend it all, so help a nigga spend it. Go do some girly shit with Rickey. And he better be glad I know he batting for the same team or you would have to dead that friendship. All that air kissing and blowing y’all do. That nigga still a nigga.”
“Keyz, stop that! Rickey is one of my best friends,” she spat in shock.
“So. He’d be a dead friend if he tried to stick his dick in you.”
“Grrrrr,” she growled, laughing.
“Grrrr, my ass. A’ight, Cheeks. Let me get moving. I’ll holla.”
“Okay,” she said quietly before she hung up.
They weren’t at the “I love you” stage, but they both felt it, although somewhat hesitant to speak on it. Mostly because the relationship was still new and their history was nothing but a brief, uncomfortable encounter in middle school. He sat for a minute wondering why she intrigued him so, but the answer was always the same. She was different, almost sacred, and he needed that to wash some of his sinful nature away. Especially what he wanted to do to Myriah and Chico.
Jumping up, he felt energized after talking to his girl. After a quick shower, he grabbed a Naked Juice smoothie, the kind Iyana got from the grocery store if she stayed overnight if she didn’t have time to make a fresh smoothie. He wasn’t a health freak, but she was changing him as he found himself picking them up now when he shopped alone. At first, he felt weird how he gravitated to things she introduced him to without even trying. He even loved the way she washed and dried her hair before flat ironing it, lightly oiling her hair with a scented olive oil that drove him crazy.
“Man, let me get outta here thinking about this damn girl,” he muttered to himself before he headed south to Miami
He was glad the ride was long, but not too long, giving him time to clear his headspace. In the past few days, he consulted a family law attorney who advised him that he was the legal father once Ishmael’s birth certificate was amended with his name on it. He hated how he was so eager to be a father that he never asked for a paternity test. Mostly because he wanted to give Ishmael something he didn’t have, costing him his sanity now.
Keyz: Meet me at my mom’s in an hour
Bitch Ass BM: Keyz… I don’t know
Keyz: Fuck what you don’t know. I’ll break your motherfucking neck fuckin’ with me. Come through.
Bitch Ass BM: Let me get up
Keyz: Bet
He didn’t have a solid plan. He was only prepared to tell her what she was about to do. There was no need for them to negotiate anything. Ishmael was his and that was his final answer.