Chyna’s sucks in a breath and her eyes bulge when they arrive at me. “Oh my fuckin’ gawd!”
“Chyna!” I admonish. And that’s when I notice she isn’t alone. There’s an ebony skinned girl in a blue mini right behind her.
“My bad, big sis. It’s just that…I always knew you was pretty, but…DAMN!” she shrieks then looks back to her friend. “Right, Tay?” Her girlfriend nods with a wide grin.
I wave her over to me suddenly feeling overwhelmed in emotions. I pull her into me. “I’m so happy you were able to make it. I didn’t think you would.”
“What!” Chyna trills when we release one another. “And miss a free trip to Hollywood—oh, I mean,” she ducks her head. “Of course seeing my big sis get married is the biggest reason. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
“Well, I’m glad you could make it. What about Grandma and Granddad?”
“Umm…Granddaddy wasn’t up to the long flight. You know…with that last stroke and all. He don’t like to go out much. Grandma is here. She didn’t want to lose her seat up on the deck, even though they told us we had assigned seats.” Then Chyna backs away just a little to give me sight of her friend. “This is my home girl, Shantee. You could call her Tay for short.” The two girls giggle for some unknown reason.
“Nice to meet you, Tay. I’m glad you were able to make it,” I proffer my hand, to which she reciprocates on a weak shake, indicative of her age.
“We just came to show you some love before you take that leap,” Chyna says then her eyes grow. “Speaking of, you ain’t tell me your man was fine as fuck! I mean, damn sis!” Shantee bursts into laughter as she nods her head emphatically. “I don’t mean no disrespect, but if you having any doubts about him, puleeeeze pass him over to me. I promise you, I can handle him.” Chyna can’t keep the humor or lust out of her voice, and something tells me she isn’t entirely joking.
Adrian, Chantal, and the other stylists even joins in on the mirth. Adrian shakes his head as he belts out laughs. I don’t know if the humor is the truth in what the teens said or the fact that it came from two girls who are just out of training bras.
I’ve grown accustomed to women fawning over Azmir, so this isn’t new. However, having your little sister who your strongest recollection of is being a toddler, do it makes it a bit awkward. The girls laugh long and hard as they hold hands with one holding her belly and the other having her hand on the wall.
I shake them off with my head and ask, “Where are you all staying?” I know unless they’re crashing in my make shift dance room at my house in Redondo Beach, there isn’t much space. I also know my grandmother isn’t fond of hotel rooms. She’s always said they are the most impersonal and therefore nasty places to lay your head.
Hardly having caught her breath, Chyna answers, “At your place on the water.” She then stands erect and sprightly asks, “Yo, who calls that place an apartment. And your bedroom...the one you share with that fine ass man! How is it that you leave that bed?”
“That place is dope as hell, Ms. Rayna! I gotta give you mad love on your world, ma!” Shantee covers her mouth with a balled fist, “You’s a bad bitch—beautiful, educated, fine ass rich man, laced crib! I wanna be like you when I grow up!” She and Chyna proceed to give each other some dap.
Before I can answer, Tessie peeps her head back in the salon. “Ms. Brimm ninety seconds until your call!” I nod and she closes the door or more like slams it. I can tell her nerves are frayed.
I look at my sister and her friend, smitten by their presence, even if they’re lusting over my A.D. in my face. I’m just happy to have family here. Weird for me, but true.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Chyna doll,” I pull her into another tight embrace, doting on her with a name I used to call her as a tot. Chyna freezes in my arms before reciprocating, wrapping her arms around me.
“Me, too,” she murmurs into my shoulder. “If I could be with you every day, I would.”
My eyes pop open behind her. Chyna…I’m so sorry for leaving you behind!
“Time!” Tessie appears again in the doorframe. Chyna and Shantee shuffle out, promising not to post pictures of me or Azmir on IG, FB, Twitter, or any other social networking site that I’m not familiar with.
Tessie has my bouquet of pink tulips and mini calla lilies, placing them in my hand. I can’t help but notice it’s by design that it is the same arrangement Azmir had delivered to my office when he muscled me for our first date, after our initial encounter in his cafeteria. This time I don’t need help identifying the flower type. Boy, have I been cultured to many things since then, thanks to A.D.