Distractions (D. SWING)

21

Presents Are Coming

"Ahaaa! You got me young buck!" Papa Fred hollered at the shot De took on the pool table.

I sat across the room anxiously watching their interactions. My grandfather and boyfriend stood at a solid distance conversing with beer and pool sticks in their hands. Every looks to be goin well, though we  must always keep in mind that everything is not always what it seems. The only problem with all of this is my cousins are staring– like always! I hate when I bring somebody around them and they start to stare. It's a constant cycle and always the same three. Isaiah, Jenny, and Brandon act like they never seen a man before.

"Why are you staring at him," I ask Jenny– who happens to be sitting about five feet from me.

My Grandmother intersects my statement. "Because she ain't got no damn manners," she says. "Gone about ya' business, Jenita!" Jenny quietly sits there, as she should. We all know even though Grandma Coretta's pushing her eighties, she'll still pop the shit out of any one of us. Is that really much a surprise? I think not. Jenny's best option is what choice she's made; stay quiet.

I snicker into my shirt.

"He's your boyfriend, huh?" I don't get the chance to answer, she had seen it all over my face. "He a fine young one, real fine. He know shoot more then pool, huh? The eightball go in every time don't it?"

My palm connects with my nose in shame. "Granny. Granny, please."

"He work that pool stick–"

Suddenly, my mother appears directly over my grandmother's shoulder. "Mom, watch your mouth!" A savior she, she is. She's known for popping up when her mother is on the verge of talking out the side of her neck in all of the worse ways possible. I can't help but love her for this.

"Give it up, Giselle. The girl is thirty-sum'ahh-years-old, you know she be fucking– and look how tall that boy is. She climb him like a tree! How old is he again?"

Well...

This is a commonly awkward question in my personal opinion. I'm thirty-one and my boyfriend is just below twenty-five at a tender twenty-four. He's right beneath the five year mark. It used to bother me but after a while it became whatever. The whole age gap thing annoyed me because people don't understand that, in this industry, age's are scattered all over the place and after you reach a certain level of stress... we all end up being whatever age is the number on our mind at the moment. Except me and very few others, I've got no issue with my age. Madonna's four years older than me but dresses like she's four years younger than De. See what I'm saying? It's also the whole cougar part. Cougar sounds really wrong, but if I were a man I'd be a pimp, I'd be a playa, I'd be.... a man. For obvious reasons, I don't necessarily favor this question.

"Twenty-four."

Grandma Coretta's eyebrows rise, her eyes widen, she begins to nod her head. "And he got that James Earl Jones bass in voice. Hey, now!" She laughs holding up her hand for a high-five. I can't necessarily decipher what that means but I know it's good whatever it is. "That's what I'm talkin' about, Nelly." ...And you know she got my ass blushing...

Auntie Ash calls out from the table of food. "Nelly!" I turn to look up at her with my fullest attention on display for her. "Go in the pantry and get that case of beer for me."

"But I can't reach it," I whine not wanting to have to get up.

"You got a man, make him useful!" She yells back earning a silent groan.

Sliding out of my seat, ignoring Grandma Coretta's laughter, I approach DeVante at the pool table. "I hate to interrupt your games but can I borrow this one right here for a second?" I ask my uncles politely. They send De off with a boatload of oooh's and ahhhh's, thinking he's in some sort of trouble but he's not. "I need you to reach up and get this box for me," I say as we reach the pantry.