really mine if I’m not being myself?”
Thirty-Three
I’m still thinking about what Miles said yesterday when we arrive at Christ Temple.
I guess the prospect of a job gave my mom the courage to come today and face the gossip. This is the first Sunday we’ve been here in a while, and the only thing church folks love more than talking about people is talking about people who haven’t been to church.
Whatever.
Trey holds Kayla’s hand as he follows me and Jay across the gravel parking lot next to the church. Earlier, he introduced Kayla to Jay as his girlfriend. They must be pretty serious if he invited her to church: church-where-everybody-is-gonna-talk-about-him-bringing-a-girl-to-church. That’s major.
Seems like half the congregation fills the foyer. Jay wears a bigger smile than usual as we make our rounds, greeting folks. It’s an unspoken rule that when you’ve been gone, you have to speak to everybody. Well, my mom and my brother do. I stand here, trying to keep my facial expressions in check.
Pastor Eldridge’s wife hugs us and says that we’ve been gone so long, she almost forgot what we look like. I only side-eye her a little bit. Sister Barnes tries me though. Jay tells her good morning, and Sister Barnes responds with, “Y’all been too busy for the Lord?”
I open my mouth, but before I can tell her to kiss our asses, Jay moves close to me. So close that nobody notices how hard she pinches my arm.
“Brianna, why don’t you go have a seat,” she tells me, which is mom-at-church speak for “Girl, you better go somewhere before I whoop your behind.”
I’d much rather sit in the corner anyway. I plop down in one of the high-back chairs under the portrait of Pastor Eldridge. On one hand, I don’t get why my mom is taking all of this shade from people. But on the other, she must be in a really good headspace if she’s willing to take it.
Sister Daniels comes into the foyer, in a floral dress with a matching hat that’s big enough to block the sun. Curtis holds the door open for her.
I sit up a little. My edges? Laid and slayed. Jay French-braided my hair last night, and I put my silk bonnet on extra tight to keep everything in check. This dress and these wedge heels? Super cute. But the way Curtis’s eyes light up when he sees me, I don’t think I needed any of it.
He moves around people and makes his way over to me, giving quick “hellos” and polite nods along the way.
“Hey, Bri,” he says, the smile all on his face and in his voice.
Here I go, cheesing. “Hey.”
Curtis sits on the arm of the chair and checks me out. “I know I ain’t supposed to cuss in church, but damn, girl, you looking kinda fine today.”
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I say. Most Sundays, he shows up in a polo and dress pants. Today, he put on a suit and tie.
Curtis adjusts the tie a bit. “Thanks. I was scared I was gon’ look like I should be giving the sermon. Glad you like it, since I did this for you.”
“You don’t need to.”
“Oh, so I’m sexy without it?” Curtis wiggles his eyebrows.
I laugh. “Bye, Curtis.”
“You can’t admit it, don’t be scared,” he says. “So, this date of ours. We never figured out the details. I was thinking we could leave campus one day this week and go somewhere around Midtown for lunch.”
I get this weird feeling that somebody’s watching us. I glance around.
Somebody’s watching all right. My mom and my brother are near the sanctuary door, paying more attention to us than to Pastor Eldridge. They both look amused.
Lord. I can hear them now. Jay’s gonna try to get all in my business, and Trey’s gonna mess with me worse than Sonny.
But you know what? I don’t care. “Lunch sounds good,” I tell Curtis.
“Tomorrow works for you?”
“Yep.”
“First time I’ll actually look forward to a Monday.” Curtis leans over and kisses my cheek, so close to my lips that I almost wish he would’ve kissed them. “Later, Princess.”
I go over to my mom, Trey, and Kayla, and this grin seems stuck on my face.
“Ooooh, Bri got a boyfriend,” Trey teases. “Ooooh!”
“Shut up,” I say. But boyfriend? I wouldn’t say he’s my boyfriend. Yet I wouldn’t have a problem with him having that title.
Jesus, my face is starting to hurt from smiling so hard.
Jay goes, “Mm,” which in black momma speak could mean a number of