The Reinvention of the Rose - Christina C. Jones Page 0,56
to meet Tristan, right?”
She smiled. “Right.”
“Cool. I think I know a way to get both of those covered.”
It didn’t take much.
Just a quick text to Tristan, who happened to have a short opening where he could squeeze in a favor for me. He did give me a look when Dacia showed him the rose in the same place as mine, nearly identical except for the color.
But he didn’t comment any further.
He turned it a fiery phoenix for her.
Not as much detail as mine since he’d worked her in, but still beautiful, and still enough to meet the desired goal.
One less woman defined by a mark she hadn’t chosen.
We thanked him, helped clean up before his next client, and then left, feeling good for different reasons.
Dacia was excited about her tattoo, rightfully so.
And I… was excited for her.
It was new to me – all of this. Having friends to be happy to reunite with, friends I wanted to call in favors for.
Having a friend – a lover – who could carry that favor out.
Happily.
This new, full life was so different from a few months ago.
And I wanted every moment of it.
“So you’re telling me you’ve never seen any of them?” Tristan pressed, in full disbelief of my lack of knowledge on a whole host of classic Black movies. Between age and very-fucked-up experience, they’d just never been on my radar. Most of my movie trivia knowledge came from vast pop-culture lists I’d needed to study for conversation purposes, not actual viewing experience.
“Asking a third time won’t change the answer, sir,” I told him over the phone, as I pressed the label to the candle I’d finally named – a name he hadn’t yet seen. I wasn’t sure how Tristan was going to react to the Neighborhood Hottie scent, but Dacia, Jules, and Anika all loved it, so I was pretty confident it would be a hit.
“Tell me you’re willing to let me change your life,” he said, making my eyebrows shoot up.
“Huh?”
“We’ve gotta institute a weekly movie date or something, I can’t have you out with me in the Heights not catching the references and shit.”
“Oh,” I laughed. “Yeah, I’d be into that,” I told him, grabbing the backing sheets from the pile of labels I’d just finished applying. I’d been a candle-making machine the last few days, and almost had the minimum stock for the shop ready.
“You sure? You’re not one of those people who don’t like movies at all, are you?”
Hm.
I… actually had no idea.
But for the purposes of this conversation, I assured him that I was not, knowing that even if I discovered I hated movies, I would enjoy the time spent with him.
… and his mouth.
… and his dick.
“When do you wanna start?” I asked, already plotting how little attention I would be giving the TV at all. “I know you have Kiara tonight, and then the party is tomorrow, but… the day after that?”
He chuckled. “Damn, you’re excited about this, huh?”
“Very.”
“Yeah, the day after should be fine,” he agreed. “Your place or mine?”
“Well… considering the fact that I don’t have a TV…”
“Oh shit, that’s right,” he groaned. “I keep meaning to fix that.”
“It’s not a thing to fix,” I laughed. “You’re not fucking up my minimalist aesthetic so you can watch… whatever niggas watch while they’re laid up at their woman’s house.”
“So you’re claiming me now? That’s whassup.”
“When was I not claiming you?”
“Kiara said you said, “I’m not your daddy’s girlfriend”.”
I cringed. “Well, at the time I wasn’t. We hadn’t talked things out yet.”
“Only because you wouldn’t talk to me.”
“And when I did talk to you, you were still trying to blame your fuck up on everything but yourself, so I can’t imagine the conversation would’ve been productive if it happened any sooner.”
Tristan let out a heavy sigh. “That’s a pretty fair point I guess. She also told me you intervened with some motherfuckers who were harassing her? Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“Your daughter was afraid you’d do something to land yourself in jail. And frankly, I was too,” I admitted. “But really, I was trying to figure out the right way to approach it, then the ringleader wound up getting arrested for something else. Including breaking into the shop.”
“I’ll see him when he gets out. But in the meantime… thank you for being on Kiara’s team, even though me and you were beefing.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that,” I told him, staring at the pile of recycling that stood between me and