Fixin’ Tyrone (18 page)

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Authors: Keith Thomas Walker

BOOK: Fixin’ Tyrone
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“I know,” Mia said. “It’s hard. What would you do about his ex?”

“I’d kick that bitch’s ass,” Gayle said matter-of-factly. “Let me find out some bitch is following me around.

Breaking
my
windows? Oh, hell naw. I’d make Eric show me where she stay and beat that ho up in her own front yard. Bet she won’t throw no more bricks after that.”

“I haven’t had a fight since the second grade,” Mia admitted.

“I’m not saying
you
should fight her. I’m saying that’s probably what
I
would do. You, naw, Mia, that’s not you. And like I said, if I had kids at home, I’d let it go, like you did. Don’t start trouble with somebody who knows where your kids sleep. Especially if you already know they crazy.”

Mia already felt that way, but it was good to hear it again. “I’ma miss him, though,” she said.

“Sounds like he was romantic.”

“When he took me to the Ritz, I felt like I was a princess at the ball,” Mia said. “He did everything for me. I don’t think I’ve ever been pampered like that. He didn’t even trip when I told him we couldn’t have sex.”

“You just slept with him that one time, huh?” Gayle asked.

“Yeah.”

“That’s been damned near a month ago, ain’t it?”

“It’s getting close,” Mia admitted.

“And you’re going out with Tyrone today?”

“I’m not
going out
with Tyrone,” Mia said. “He’s taking my son to Six Flags and I’m going
with them
. Mica, too. This is not a date.”

“Whatever. You
are
gonna be with him, though. Walking around the park all day. Holding hands and stuff. Ain’t you getting a little hot for him yet?”

“I’m not
hot
for him. It might be nice to get in bed with him, but there’s too many strings attached to that. It’s not even worth it. And we’re not
holding hands
! He doesn’t have anything I want, Gayle. It’s gonna be hard enough when he finds out his prophecy has been fulfilled.”

“What prophecy?”

“He kept telling me Eric and I were going to break up. He said we would break up within a month.”

“Tyrone said that?”

Mia rolled her eyes. “Yeah.”

“When?”

“About three weeks ago.”

Gayle cocked her eyebrow.

“Don’t even start. It doesn’t mean anything.”

But maybe it did. “Girl, that could be
fate
.”

“Please don’t say that. I don’t believe any higher power wants me to be with
Tyrone
.”

“You don’t think
God
wants a father to raise his own son?”

Mia sneered. “Have you been talking to Tyrone or something? You sound just like him.”

“I’m just saying,” Gayle went on, “that
is
his son. I don’t think it’ll hurt nothing if you give him a shot.”

“Are you serious?”

“He ain’t
that
bad, is he?”

“He chose the streets over me and his baby,” Mia reminded. “If he had stayed with me, who knows where we would be right now. But he wanted to go to the pen. Now he’s got a record. No car. Some bullshit job, no future.”

“But you make a lot of money, Mia. You don’t need him to bring much in, do you?”

“I don’t
need
his money at all, Gayle. But I do need a man with a good career, his own car and house. I’m not babysitting a grown-ass man. I’m already doing that with Crystal, and that’s enough.”

“But what if he gets all that stuff? A job and car . . . You’ll go out with him then?”

“He’d still be irresponsible. He’d still be a thug, and I don’t date thugs.”

“But they know how to lay pipe
real good
,” Gayle squealed.

“Oh, trust me, I know.”

“So what’s next, then?” the hairdresser wanted to know. “You dating somebody else, or you gonna go on another one of your droughts?”

“I don’t have
droughts
.”

“Girl, you be going four, five months without talking to
no
man. That’s a drought.”

“That’s not a drought.”

“Whatever. You got somebody else or not?”

“Not really,” Mia said. “This millionaire asked me out last week.”

“Shut—up.”

“No, I’m serious. It’s a guy I work with. He’s African.”


African?
Africans got some big dicks.”

“I’m pretty sure there are some Africans out there with three-inch dicks.”

“Maybe two or three on the whole continent. The rest of them are packing. What does your African look like? I know he fine.”

“He is fine, girl. He’s also charming and sophisticated. He took me out to lunch last week and ordered our meal in Italian. He speaks five languages.”

“You already went out with him?”

“Not really. We were supposed to be having a business lunch, but he started flirting with me as soon as I sat down. He told me, ‘Put those folders away. You work too hard,’ or something like that. He’s got a thick accent. It’s cute.”

“Damn, Mia. You got good luck with men this month.”

“I don’t know if you can call it
luck
. The one guy I want to be with has a crazy girlfriend. I can’t even see him anymore. I’ve got my baby’s father hounding me. He’s fine and all, but he’s a loser. I can’t count the guy from work. He’s got it going on, but he probably doesn’t want to go out with me anymore because I shot him down. He’s a proud man.”

“Your hand still looks better than mine,” Gayle said.

“Oh, and this white guy asked me out a couple weeks ago,” Mia said.

“All right, bitch, that’s enough.”

Mia got her hair trimmed and flipped to perfection. She wished Mama Ernestine was there to throw her two cents in, but the talk with Gayle helped put a lot of things in perspective. Mia left the beauty shop, as always, a fresh, vibrant, and confident woman.

* * *

 

When she got home, the kids were already dressed and excited. Mia had only thirty minutes to get ready herself, but she was only going out with Tyrone, so it didn’t matter what she wore. She pulled out a Nike sports suit she bought online but never tried on. The pants were black polyester and spandex. The top was pink and black, long-sleeved with a zipper down the middle.

When she put the pants on, they felt a little tight. A look in the mirror confirmed her lady lumps might be too enticing for a day with Tyrone, but Mia decided to wear the outfit anyway. She looked nice, ready for a volleyball game or track meet, though she’d only be standing in long lines all day. She put on pink and black low-top Pumas and was ready for her date—
day
.
It’s not a date
, she reminded herself,
just another day
.

Back in the living room, Crystal had her ready to change clothes.

“Girl, yo booty look big in them pants.”

“No it doesn’t,” Mia said. “I checked. They’re not that tight.”

“What are they?
Spandex
?”

“Mostly polyester.”

Crystal walked up to her and pulled on the fabric. “I thought you didn’t want Tyrone to grab yo booty.”

“He’s not gonna grab my booty.”

“Girl,
I
wanna grab yo booty. You got a tight,
round
ass.”

“I’m changing,” Mia said.

“Naw, girl. I’m just kidding. It looks good. Plus the shirt covers most of it.”

But it didn’t.

* * *

 

“Dizamn!”
Tyrone held a balled fist over his mouth to block the expletive, but Mica and TC heard it and giggled. Everyone but Crystal was in the living room. They were on their way out the front door when Mia realized she forgot her purse. It was when she turned her back and headed to her room that Tyrone let out his cat call.

Mia looked back and gave him a mean look for cursing in front of the kids, but he was already apologizing.

“I’m sorry, Mia. I didn’t mean to do that.” He still had his fist over his mouth, chuckling now.

“I’m changing clothes,” Mia said, but she was smiling too.

“Naw, girl!
Don’t!
” Tyrone almost yelled, then said, “I mean, don’t change. It’s fine. You look
fine
. Plus we running late, come on. Get yo purse. Let’s go.”

“What’s wrong with your outfit, Mommy?” Mica asked.

“Nothing,” Mia said, a hand over her butt.

“Nothing,” Tyrone agreed. “It’s perfect. It looks good, don’t it, TC?”

“It looks good, Mama. Let’s go! Let’s go!”

“Let’s go!” Mica said.

“Yeah, let’s go!” Tyrone yelled. He picked Mica up over his head and she giggled.

“You ready to ride the
Shockwave
?” he asked her.

“Yeah! What’s that?”

Today Tyrone had on tan, canvas shorts. Mia hadn’t seen his bare legs in years, and of course they were sexy.
Couldn’t there be some part of him that didn’t look good?
she wondered.

Tyrone wore footies and white low-tops. He had a sparse amount of hair on his bronze legs, but Mia liked that, too. His calf muscles were developed, like he’d spent the last six years running track rather than in the pen.

Tyrone had on two white T-shirts; the one on top was bigger and a little longer. He was freshly shaven, and his haircut looked new. His edge-up was sharp and crisp. His hazel eyes seem to glow as he smiled down at Mica. And he had new bling, but it was tasteful; just one silver link necklace. Mia thought gold looked better against his skin tone, but the silver looked nice, too.

In her room, Mia grabbed her purse and started looking for a different bottom to put on, but Tyrone wasn’t having it. He opened the front door and the kids rushed out.

“C’mon, Mia!” he called from the doorway. “You ain’t got time to change clothes!”

So she didn’t.

They piled into her SUV
as is
and hit the road. Tyrone was still grinning ear to ear. Mia rolled her eyes at him.

“You better not try anything,” she said.

“I won’t,” he promised with a hand over his chest. “Scout’s honor.”

“What do you know about the scouts?” she asked him.

“I know a little bit about everything,” he said and mouthed a kiss. If nothing else, Tyrone was very persistent.

Mia wondered how long she could keep her problem with Eric a secret, but it started to unravel before they even hit the freeway, thanks to TC.

“Daddy, somebody threw a brick in our house!” he shouted from the back seat. Mia adjusted the rearview mirror so she could give him the eye, but the damage was done.

“Somebody threw a brick in yo house?” Tyrone asked.

“It was nothing,” Mia said.

“They broke our window,” TC said.

“What?” Tyrone said.

“It was
nothing
,” Mia said again. “Everything’s fixed now. No problem. It’s over.”

“All right, but who did it?” Tyrone asked. He looked really concerned.

“It was a bad person,” Mica informed. “We prayed for them.”

“That’s good,” Tyrone said, then looked to Mia again. “Who threw a rock in yo window?”

“It was nothing.”

“Yes, it was something,” Tyrone said, getting a little agitated. “How somebody gon’ throw a brick through yo window? Where was yo punk as—I mean, where was yo boyfriend? Bet nobody won’t throw no bricks if
I
was living there.”

That actually made Mia feel good, even though it came from
Tyrone
.

“We’re not together anymore,” she said. “It had something to do with the brick, but I can’t talk about it now.”

“Y’all broke up?” Tyrone lit up like a Christmas tree. “I told you! I knew it! Didn’t I tell you?”

“Yes, Tyrone. You told me. Now drop it. I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“What you mean you don’t want to talk about it? We
gotta
talk about this. This is—”


This is
something I don’t want to talk about right now,” she said again and shot a glance towards the kids.

“Oh,” Tyrone said. “Okay. But the first ride they get on, me and you gon’ talk.” His smile was warm and comforting.

“All right, Tyrone. We’ll talk then,” Mia said, and she was smiling, too.

* * *

 

Tyrone paid at the admissions gate like he said he would. The two adult tickets cost $47 each. The kids could get in for $35 a piece. And that was just the beginning of the gouging. As soon as they walked in, a hyper, redheaded girl ran up to the foursome.

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