The Reinvention of the Rose - Christina C. Jones Page 0,60

“That means you can drink with me.”

Before I could object, she’d pushed a cold, half-frosted beer bottle into my hands, and had already lifted an identical one to her lips as I examined the label.

Auntie’s House.

“It’s not spiked with anything, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said, mistaking my curiosity for apprehension.

“I didn’t think you’d do anything like that,” I told her, honestly, lifting the bottle to my mouth to take a sip. “You don’t strike me as the sneak-attack type.”

“Cheers to that.” She twisted her bottle in my direction, and I did the same, tapping the glasses together. “So… I wanted to apologize for how I came at you that day in grown. That was my bad. I don’t want you to think I’m hung up on Tristan having a girlfriend or anything, it’s just that his last girlfriend…”

“Oh I’ve had to put hands on her.”

“So you feel me then,” Von laughed, shaking her head. “Tristan is a good dude, honestly. He was just really wild for that one. I’m glad he got his shit together.”

I took another, longer sip from the surprisingly good beer, taking the moment to consider my words before I spoke. “If that’s the case… why aren’t you together?”

She didn’t answer immediately, which I appreciated. It made me feel like it wasn’t rehearsed. “I think that… if he and I weren’t involved with other people, maybe we would give it a try, you know? But that’s not the case. I know that’s likely not the most reassuring thing in the world, but it’s honest. Everything you see in Tristan, I see it too. But I found those same things in someone else already, while Tristan was either still growing up, or halfway around the world, or recovering from what being halfway around the world did to him. I didn’t mold him, or wait for him, or heal him. Because I deserved love without having to do any of that.”

My eyes went wide. “He expected that from you?”

“No, not at all,” Von quickly amended. “And I don’t mean to imply that he did, I’m just saying… that’s why we aren’t, and weren’t together. Because he wasn’t together. Now he is. And you get to deal with that guy, instead of what he was. He still has his moments. But I guess we all have those, right?” she teased, presumably referring to her rudeness in grown. “Again… I’m sorry for spazzing on you. Tristan seems to really like you, and so does Kiara. And she told us what you did for her, when those motherfuckers were bothering her. You protected my baby. So as far as I’m concerned… you’re good with me.”

I smiled, extending my bottle to her again. “The feeling is mutual.”

“We drinkin’ over here?!”

My grin grew even bigger as I recognized Tristan’s mother – it wasn’t hard, considering she was wearing the same “unfuckwittable” tee shirt from that picture he’d shown me all those weeks ago. She had a bottle in her hand too, and dropped to the space on the other side of me.

“You some of Von’s family, or you from the neighborhood?” she asked, getting comfortable.

“Babs, this is Tristan’s woman,” Von spoke up. “You know he’s gonna be mad he didn’t get to introduce you first.”

“I ain’t worried about his ass,” she laughed. “How you doing honey, I’m Barbara,” she said, offering me her free hand. “Everybody calls me Babs – Big Babs for the real grown up folks.”

“Pleased to meet you,” I said, accepting her hand, and the firm shake she offered before pulling me into a hug that was uncomfortably comfortable.

“You a pretty thing aren’t you – with a sweet spirit. I can tell you got some unfuckwittable about you too. I like that.”

“Me too BB,” Von chimed in, reaching around me to give her a fist bump.

I… wasn’t sure how I felt about this.

Not negative at all, it was just incredibly surreal, to be having a moment like that that wasn’t… fabricated.

I wasn’t measuring my words, wasn’t keeping a cover intact, I was just… being.

Actually, I did know how I felt about it.

I felt fantastic.

“Ay, what the fuck is this?!” Tristan asked as he jogged up to us, still shirtless and dripping sweat. His locs were pulled up, brown skin glistening in the sun, all his ink on full display, and…

“Do y’all need some privacy?” Babs laughed, letting me know that the inappropriate place my thoughts had been going were more than evident on my face.

Shit.

In front of his