Page 8 of Soft On Her
I was seated in the back of a black Chevy Tahoe with a driver I’d just met at the airport. My hand fidgeted with the massive engagement ring that I still hadn’t slipped onto my finger. Although I knew the day when I married AC was quickly approaching, I still wasn’t prepared. It was a small price to pay for the assistance his family extended to me and my motherwhen the four families turned their backs on us and left us for dead nine years ago.
Thoughts of that fateful day flooded my memory, reminding me of how drastically my life changed over the years. The melancholy memories eventually drifted to warming thoughts of Sneaux Black. No matter how much time passed, I still got butterflies when I thought about the way Sneaux sprang into action to protect me.
Extenuating circumstances brought me back to Florida before our wedding the following week. My new residence was a few counties over from my hometown, and I prayed like hell that I didn’t run into Sneaux. I didn’t think the promise I made to my mother would hold up to my buried feelings for her. Unfortunately, the disdain I held for the four families was also supposed to trickle down to Sneaux. Even if deep down inside I knew she didn’t play a role in how my mother and I were left for dead after my father died. At the end of the day, she was still a part of that circle. The fact that my father died due to something that had to do with the four families made it sting a little harsher.
If I did cross paths with Sneaux, it would definitely be after my arranged nuptials because I didn’t plan to leave the house until it was time to head to the wedding venue on my big day. That was when I’d inherit the full protection of the Clayton family, and my mother would be taken care of. It wouldn’t matter who I crossed paths with after that.
My wedding dress was secured, the venue and caterers were paid in full, and the RSVP’s were rolling in from AC’s family. My mother never had a good relationship with her family. That’s what made it so easy for my grandparents to force my mother to marry my father and relocate to Florida. Their one-night stand resulted in a pregnancy that forced a shotgun wedding to save face before I was born.
According to the story my mother told me, my father was in a relationship with Sneaux’s aunt Bunny, and they were finalizing the details of their marriage around the time I was conceived. Then my mother found out she was pregnant and threw a monkey wrench in their plans of a super alliance. If my mother hadn’t gotten pregnant with me, my father and Bunny would’ve been the first two to connect the four families by marriage. I remember being around eleven when I realized my paternal family didn’t like my mother, and the distance grew. It wasn’t until I got older and learned the full story that I understood why I was usually the odd man out with my grandparents. That marriage would’ve shot the Harrises up in the hierarchy, from fourth to second place, right below the Blacks, but my existence foiled those plans.
Before my mother met my father on vacation in California, she only knew about the lifestyle from what she’d seen in mafia movies, until she was thrust into it. Therefore, AC’s family and friends would make up 99.99 percent of the attendees. My mother would be the only person in attendance for me, and even that was up in the air.
That realization sent another wave of sadness over me. I missed the days when life was simple, and I could depend on someone other than my mother. The way things were shaping up, even that support withered away. I missed being a teenager and skipping school with Sneaux and the guys to smoke weed, go to the movies, or maxing out my credit card on a random Tuesday. My life before my father’s death was so full, I wish I would’ve appreciated it more.
Always the social butterfly, I was voted prom queen in high school. My grades earned me a seat at my dream school, UC Davis, where I planned to major in biological science before applying for the Doctor of Veterinary Medicine program. I always loved animals and wanted to be a veterinarian. Whenwe left Sand Cranes, I wasn’t even allowed to bring my eight year old Golden Doodle because she had a tracking implant that would’ve made it easy for people to find us.
The Tahoe came to a stop, and my phone vibrated in my pocket.
AC: Good morning, beautiful. I see you made it in. I’m going to be out handling business until the wee hours of the morning. Then my boys just told me about a bachelor party they planned for me this weekend. I’ll be back Tuesday morning at the latest. I’m actually glad you had to come down early, I just hate that it was the same weekend I’ll be out of town. You’re welcome to anything in my home. Mi casa es su casa.
I thumbed up the message and stepped out of the truck as the driver held my door open. AC’s absence on the day I was scheduled to get settled into our new home left me annoyed, and I was not sure why. The fact that AC was weeks away from thirty and still hadn’t gotten a woman to marry him told me that there were definitely chinks in the armor, no matter how much his father swore there wasn’t. I was always labeled the last resort for the Clayton family, and I was so close to turning thirty that I thought I’d survive without ever having to commit to any of their male heirs. Then they introduced me to AC a few weeks ago, and I knew I wouldn’t be so lucky.
“Welcome to Florida, sis-in-law!” Deja’s voice cracked through the birds chirping in the distance. She bopped across the driveway with two sparkling wine flutes in her hands and a welcoming smile. Deja clearly had something up her sleeve because her makeup was done and she was dressed in an outfit that was too cute for lounging around the house.
“Thank you for the warm welcome,” I chirped, accepting the flute and taking a sip. I’d only met Deja once, two weeks ago when her father popped up at our home to explain that AC’sprevious wedding plans fell through, and I would be making good on the contingency plan my mother set up with them.
“Of course. I’m so glad to have you here. We are going to have so much fun while my brother is out of town because my father also has my daughter for the weekend. It’s a win-win.”
“What did you have in mind?” I questioned, trailing Deja towards the house.
“A section at this lounge called Flamingos. It’s your bachelorette weekend!” Deja exclaimed, swinging open the front door. “It’ll just be the two of us, so you don’t have to worry about putting on a façade for my family or anything like that. I doubt we’ll see anyone we know.”
I stifled a groan. After flying across the country and stopping at multiple stores to grab necessities, the last thing I wanted was to end up in a crowded, smoky lounge when I was trying to remain incognito until after the wedding. My inner demons wanted to yell, “Bitch, you know good and well I don’t have shit to wear out tonight!” But I bottled my feelings up. Deja spun around to face me just as we reached the door. The grin Deja wore faded, and a sympathetic smile replaced it as she placed both hands on my shoulders and gave them a little squeeze. Now that we were up close, I realized that the full face of makeup she wore wasn’t for the special occasion; it was to cover a black eye. I didn’t know her like that, so I refrained from prying, but the mark was definitely noted.
“Relax, I can see the annoyance spreading across your face. You have the worst poker face imaginable. We need to work on that if you are going to survive this family. AC booked a masseuse, nail tech, and makeup artist to come out and take care of you before we go out. If you take advantage, I’m sure you’ll be feeling just fine in time for tonight. Besides, I’m sure you could use a little relaxation and a night out. You’ve gone through a hectic forty-eight hours.”
“You’re right, I could definitely use both,” I forced a smile.
“That’s more like it,” she chirped, spinning around to open the door.
When we stepped inside, a large pink balloon arch greeted us at the end of the entryway with a matching banner that readBachelorette Weekend. There was a chef in the kitchen finishing off breakfast, with champagne and fresh pressed orange juice chilling on ice, waiting for us once we made it into the dining area. Everything smelled delectable. A pink gift box with a card addressed to the bride sitting on top was waiting for me in the center of the table. I knew it was from AC because that was the same jagged chicken scratch he’d scribbled onto the card that accompanied the Birkin bag hooked on my arm, a gift from the day I was notified of the rushed nuptials.
I flipped open the card and took a moment to decipher the barely legible note.Enjoy your bachelorette weekend. Make sure you’re wearing your ring to let them niggas know you belong to a rich nigga. Don’t let my sister get you into no shit you can’t get out of.
“What does it say?” Deja pried, rounding the table. I passed her the card so she could decipher the code herself.
“MCHT!”
She sucked her teeth and mumbled something under her breath. “Anyways,” she tossed the card onto the table. “Open it. I’ve been wondering what’s inside all day,” Deja encouraged, finishing off her mimosa.
I guzzled the rest of mine and pulled the top off the gift box. A cinnamon brown, plunging neckline dress with gold accessories rested in the box. “AC is an idiot thinking a ring will deter niggas while you’re wearing that little ass dress,” Deja grumbled, then mumbled her next statement so low that I’m sure it wasn’t meant for me to hear. “But he was never the brains between the two of us. He was just the one with the dick.”
“The food is ready. Would you ladies like me to bring the plates out?”
“We’d love that. We are just going to wash our hands. You can leave them on the table.”
Deja showed me to the nearest bathroom and pointed out some of the rooms and features of the home along the way. I took it all in, allowing myself to get comfortable in my new humble abode. I would be there for a while.
