“Well, we tried once…” Bernard tries to explain, but that attempt is weaker than his slip up. He failed big time, intensifying my excitement exponentially.
I know Zoey; she likes to fuck…and hard. She’s also very straight forward. If you’re hitting it right, she will come back. If she’s not pleased with you, in any manner, she will figure out a way to avoid displeasure.
Bernard doesn’t know how to fuck.
“Trust me, son,” Fred pleads with Bernard. “It don’t matter how religious they come. If you make ’em feel good, they gon’ keep coming, ya hear?”
Bernard glances at him ghostly. I can tell he’s registering that he’s gone against man law.
“Shiiiiit! I know enough about that ass,” he points directly to Zoey. “…to know she likes to be handled, nah I mean, son? She one of those that makes her wishes known, nah I mean?” Al cups his sacks. If I didn’t know my man, I’d think he’s disrespecting me, my son and his mother. But Alton is communicating territory to Bernard. He’s telling him that I’ve fucked Zoey, properly.
Bernard gives a half-confident snort. “Well, she is sporting my rock, right?” He takes a sip of his drink.
“My man,” Fred calls for his attention. “One: That ain’t no rock. Two: a ring don’t equate to love for a woman who ain’t being touched right.”
When Alton leads his and Fred’s laughter, I almost feel sorry for Bernard. But when I catch a glimpse of Zoey’s ass perked in the air, mimicking a three-point stance along with Jordan, it all dissipates.
Fuck Bernard. I need to handle Zoey.
~~~~~~~~~~
The small banquet hall where Sarah’s birthday dinner is being held is nice. It’s modestly decorated with silver, pink and deep purple Mylar balloons and the tables are covered in pink and purple tablecloths with exotic flower arrangements as centerpieces. It’s understated elegance, precisely indicative of the honoree. Her and Michael’s table is centered. Seated with them are their daughters, grandson and me.
I wouldn’t feel so awkward if Zoey would at least look at me. It’s not that I make much of an attempt; my mind is still turning over the fact that Zoey has no sex life. There are so many revelations to be gained from that.
Angela is in the building with her daughter, Brooklyn. Karen and BJ are here with their two boys as well. I still can’t believe they’re expecting a third. There are a few faces I recognize from being with Zoey’s family over the years. What’s telling of the ones that I don’t know are the stares and attempts to take pictures of me. They are being handled by the security that I have to keep around me, even if at a distance. For the most part, Zoey and Sarah managed their family regarding the fanfare over the years, asking that they not make a spectacle of my presence. That quelled the unnecessary conversations and requests from people I don’t know.
Bernard left for a show in Greenville after his monumental miscue this morning. Tynisha met Alton here, and afterwards they’ll be headed to Key West for two weeks. That’ll be his restoration vacation before the season starts.
Although the venue is small, the service is excellent and dinner is served promptly to guests. There are presentations given to the birthday girl including a soloist performance. Sarah seems happy. She’s a modest woman, one who doesn’t ask for anything but for people to live their best lives. She deserves this and more. Zoey put this together for her mother. When I offered to help via email, she declined, leaving me to think of a birthday gift all on my own.
When it’s time, Jordan and I take to the podium to present Sarah with her gift from us. Jordan starts with a poem he created and memorized for his grandmother. It’s short and sweet, yet beyond what you would expect from a six year old. But that’s JR. He has a seasoned soul. Sometimes I wonder if his maturity is due to him being exposed to so much and being an only child. I’d love to give him siblings, but refuse for it to be with another woman. I don’t want that type of set up.