The Dividing Line: ABSOLUTION #COMPLETED (Book 3)

12 ѱ YEA OR NAY (BWWM)

(NEW ORLEANS EARLY SUMMER 1991)

LANIE

The club cleared out as he hung back until everyone congratulated Lanie and wished her well. A man walked up to her when her back was to him, leaving her unprotected when his right hand slid up her back to rest on her shoulder. As his left hand presented her with an envelope, he leaned down and whispered something in her ear.

     After taking the envelope and peeking inside, she instantly flashed him a look that said, "I'm not a floozy... don't try it," so he withdrew himself as he threw up his hands and walked away.

     Once she made her way to the front of the club, Igor stepped out in front of her.

     "White boy... unless you are trying to get yo ass shot, I suggest you get the hell out of my way." She said as she withdrew a snub-nosed .38 out of her bag and rudely pushed by him. Since she'd learned how dangerous it was in the Crescent City, Lanie always carried a piece.

     Since her cousins took it upon themselves to beat the life out of her man, she never again dated another white boy. Despite her rudeness, he waited until she made her way to the door before he got up the nerve to say a word.

     "Lanie."

     All he did was speak her name, and she knew exactly who he was. Yet, somehow, his voice was deeper and more confident. With one word, he managed to do something the average man only dreamed of doing. The depth of his southern drawl washed over Lanie's body in a way she believed no longer existed for her.

     She had been seriously traumatized when she watched the only man she'd ever loved being beat to death. Those sick bastards laughed and said they'd killed those white boys. After that, many years passed before she would socialize with anyone, be they male or female.

     Lanie believed deep down in her heart that she got him killed because she had sinned by having sex before she was married. However, her parents kept such a tight reign on her after that incident. It wasn't until she was in her last couple of years of college that they decided to leave her be.

      One of her college friends introduced her to open-mic night, and that was the beginning of her love affair with singing the blues, jazz, as well, as R&B. Digging deep into the hurt she had suffered, she carved out a nice little side job for herself. When her schedule wasn't so busy, she would go down to the clubs and share her life with the patrons through song. Lanie made love to her music. She cried with the high notes as they flowed from her lips.

     Everything that she had pressed packed and hid away from the world penetrated the ambiance in the room and the people's hearts. Whenever she was gone for a spell, customers would rail against the establishment because of her absence. The only way to dull the crowd's roars was to explain to them that she was still in college and wouldn't always be able to come down because she had to study.

     They appreciated a young black woman striving to make something of herself, and therefore, the people applauded her efforts to finish college. Patiently they waited for the days when Lanie would come and turn the house out.

     As beautiful as she was, she came in dressed nicely with little to no makeup. One night she told the crowd that there was no sense getting too cute because before the night was over, she was gonna sweet everything out anyway. It was realness that drew people to her. They loved her because she wasn't pretentious. She didn't act like she was better than anybody.

     Drinking Crown Royal throughout the night, she took them on a ride right along with her once she got her buzz on. That same liquid hot spirit afforded her the freedom to worry about her soul at some other time when she was sober. While she was singing, her main concern centered around having a good time.