Page 18

AVERI

But instead of dealing with the storm that was Allison St. Claire, I decided to spend the day with two women who actually made me feel safe and loved, Queenie and Princess.

They invited me to join them for a self-care day the night I had dinner with them before Royal and I left, and I said yes before I could talk myself out of it.

We were at Klaws by Kelli , a dope little Black-owned nail and beauty spa in the heart of Buckhead.

Real cute vibes—plush velvet chairs, champagne flowing, Lauryn Hill playing through the speakers, and the smell of expensive shea butter hanging in the air.

I was in a soft pink floral sun dress, legs soaking in a rose petal foot bath while Queenie chatted with her nail tech about old Atlanta and Princess scrolled on her phone next to me, barely hiding her side-eyes every time someone tried to touch her cuticles.

I was mid-sip on my mimosa when my phone buzzed again, and my mama’s name flashed across the screen… again. I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly saw my own brain.

“You good, baby?” Queenie asked, glancing over her glasses.

I faked a smile. “Yeah, just my mom. She’s... persistent.”

“You don’t have to answer,” she said gently. “She can wait; there’s no stress on self-care day.”

Yeah, she could. But I already knew she’d keep calling till I either picked up or she showed up at my apartment like she paid rent. So, with a deep breath and a silent prayer, I slid my finger across the screen.

“Hey, Ma.”

“Are the blogs true?” my mother snapped immediately. No greeting, no manners. Typical. I was glad she was in my Air pods.

“Depends on what you mean by ‘true,’” I said slowly, trying not to let Queenie catch on to her tone.

“Don’t get smart with me, Averi St. Claire,” she hissed. “Are you really dating that rapper boy? That Royal… or whatever he calls himself?”

I glanced at Queenie again and turned my head slightly. “First of all, that’s his actual name and secondly, yes, Mama I am.” I felt Princess’ eyes on me, but I didn’t look her way.

“Unbelievable. You told me—you told me—nothing was going on between you two. So, you’re a liar now? Since when does the daughter, I raised lie to me?”

I sighed hard as hell, rubbing my temples.

“We weren’t together then,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Things changed.”

“So, you’re just flaunting your rebellion in the blogs now? I had to find out like the rest of the world that my daughter is in bed with a thug?”

I shut my eyes, breathing through the fury threatening to bubble up.

“I’m not having this conversation with you right now. I’m in public so?—”

“Well, you’re going to have it somewhere. I want him over for dinner. Tomorrow night.”

My stomach dropped. “Mama, that’s not a good idea?—”

“I wasn’t asking, Averi. I want to see this boy face to face. 7 p.m. sharp.”

And before I could answer, she hung up on me.

Back in my apartment, I was sitting on the floor in leggings and a hoodie talking to Egypt on Facetime, damn near hugging a bottle of wine like it was going to easily resolve my issues.

My finger kept flickering the Bic in my hand, which I had intended to use to light the blunt sitting in the ashtray beside me, but my mind kept going back to that conversation with my mama, distracting me.

I hadn’t even turned on music or lit a candle. I was too deep in my head.

“Girl, I’m telling you,” I muttered into my phone, “this woman is going to be the reason I need bail money.”

Egypt laughed on the other end. “Tell me why she’s acting like Royal stole her purse? Ms. Allison is trippin.”

“She hates him,” I sighed. “Like, actual disdain. She don’t even know him and already made up her mind.”

“She hates that he’s not some bougie-ass, Ivy League, golf club-attending nigga,” Egypt corrected. “That’s it. Period.”

I sipped more wine. “I shouldn’t go right?”

Just then, a knock at the door made me jump.

“Girl, what the fuck is wrong with you jumpin and shit? Is somebody after you?” Egypt was dying laugh on the phone.

“Fuck you bitch.” I rolled my eyes before getting off the floor and going to the door. I opened it to find Royal, standing there with an overnight bag and a smirk like he ain’t live two damn floors above me.

“What’s up Baby?”

“Is that Royal? Tell my new brother I said hey.”

“Brother is crazy.”

“She said what she said, fuck you mean?” Royal laughed. “What up Sis?”

“Bye, Egypt.” I hung up on her before they could continue their little banter that they had developed since California. I swear, her, Serenity and Arielle were going to betray me about how much I liked Royal. Every time I was on the phone with one of them, they were always doing the most.

Royal leaned against my doorframe. “Damn, you ain’t gon’ invite me in?”

“You ain’t got your own place?” I teased.

“I like your view better.” He leaned in and kissed me slow, like he had all day to waste. “You been drinkin’ without me?”

I stepped aside. “Come in. And yes. I’ve had a day.”

He followed me inside, dropping his bag by the couch. “That mean you don’t wanna see me, or I’m here at the right time?”

I gave him a look. “Stop talkin’ in riddles.” He laughed and headed to the kitchen to grab a glass. I poured him some wine and we plopped onto the couch. He took a sip of his wine before placing his glass down on the table then gently taking the blunt and lighter from my hands lighting the blunt.

“So… time with my mama and Princess go alright?” he asked, placing the blunt in his mouth and pulling from it a few times before handing it back to me.

“Yeah, it was cool. Princess didn’t interrogate me this time so that’s progress.”

He nodded. “You still seem tense.”

I hesitated contemplating on whether I was going to tell him about the dinner invite or leave it alone. I pulled from the blunt, before blowing the smoke out slowly.

“My mom wants us to come to dinner, tomorrow night.”

Royal paused mid-sip of his wine. “Us?”

“Yeah, us Royal.”

“She askin’ to be nice?”

“She demanded it.”

He shrugged like it was nothing. “A’ight. Let’s go.”

I blinked. “That’s it? No hesitation? No ‘fuck her and that crusty ass salmon she gon’ try to serve us’?”

He chuckled. “I mean, probably not the salmon part, but… yeah. We’ll go.”

“Royal—”

He sat up, setting his glass down. “Ave, I don’t give a damn what they say. Yo mama, yo daddy, Twitter, the blogs—none of ‘em matter. I know what we got. I’m not gon’ run because she got a stick up her ass.”

I looked at him, my heart softening. “You sure?”

He pulled me into his lap taking the blunt back and pulling from it. “I’m sure.”

A few days later were stepping up to the wrap around porch of my parent’s home.

Royal, in his black tailored button-up and slacks, looked better than any man should be allowed.

He smelled like Tom Ford and trouble. I told him not to dress up, but he insisted and now that he was standing in front of me looking all good, smelling all good, all I wanted to do was get him back to the apartment and obey.

“Stop looking at me like that.” He smirked as I rang the doorbell.

“Like what?”

“Like you tryna get fucked, because I’mma make that shit happen.”

“Whatever Royal.” I couldn’t help the blush that appeared on my face.

He tilted my chin up before placing a soft kiss on my lips. “You look good too baby.”

Before I could respond, the door opened, and my parents appeared on the other side of it. The moment we entered their home the energy shifted.

“Hey Ma, Daddy.” I said kissing both of them on the cheek. “This is Royal. Royal, these are my parents.”

And even with the sleek decor, the cold-ass marble floors, and the sterile smell of lemon cleaner, he looked comfortable. Like nothing and nobody here could shake him. I wish I could say the same for myself.

“Royal,” my mother greeted sharply, lips pressed so tight they looked like they needed to be peeled apart. “Nice of you to finally join us.”

“Evenin’, Mrs. St. Claire,” he said, cool and respectful. “Thank you for having me.”

“Mm.” She gave him a once-over and turned without another word. I swear she made a sound like she just smelled something sour.

“Welcome, son,” my dad offered. “Make yourself at home.”

Royal nodded and gave him a quick dap, smooth as hell.

“Appreciate it, sir.” I glanced over at Royal, embarrassed by my mama’s rudeness.

Before I could apologize, he winked at me.

“Don’t even worry about it, Mama, relax.

” I nodded as he kissed my lips one more time before gently tapping my ass to get me to follow behind my parents.

My younger brother Elias and his girlfriend Rose were already seated at the dining table, and Candace, her baby bump and Brandon showed up a few minutes later, right behind us.

Candace clocked Royal immediately. Her jaw dropped a little. “Oh my God… you’re Royal Teegan?”

Brandon rolled his eyes with a low chuckle. “Candace, chill.”

Rose smirked. “You know I’ve had Westlake Ave on repeat.”

Royal gave a small smile. “Appreciate that. That was the first song me and Ave worked on. That one was personal.”

“Well, I think it’s dope. Real…intimate,” Rose gushed.

“Thank you. That was the goal.” He glanced at me with that slow, unreadable expression he always wore.

Allison’s mouth twisted like she’d sucked on a lemon. “So, touching,” she muttered, just loud enough. “But let’s see how well, touching lyrics feed a family.”

I shot her a look. “Mama.” She acted like I was pregnant or even thinking about getting pregnant tomorrow. This shit with Royal was still very fuckin’ new and the last thing either of us were thinking about was kids.

“Allie,” my daddy sighed shaking his head.

“I’m just saying,” she added with a sip of her wine. “We can all enjoy a catchy tune or two, but real life requires more than rhymes and melodies, doesn’t it?”

“Please, stop,” I said through gritted teeth.

“I’m fine,” Royal replied calmly. “She got a point. Music don’t raise kids. But neither does bein’ miserable in a pretty house.”

Elias choked on his water. Brandon blinked. “Whew.” Candace gasped, clearly trying to keep from laughing.

My mama slowly turned toward him. “Excuse me?”

He gave her a polite smile. “I meant no disrespect, ma’am. Just sayin’, success ain’t one-size-fits-all.”

She leaned back in her chair, making that stupid humming noise again like she had to physically hold herself back from correcting him. And I was glad he shut her ass up.

Dinner was dry. The roast chicken was overcooked, and the tension was medium-rare. Every time Royal spoke to someone, my mother reacted. Loud sighs. Clicking her tongue. Cutting her eyes like she was slicing onions.

“So, how’d you two meet?” Brandon asked, trying to keep the vibe light.

“His label head brought me in to work on some music with him for his new album,” I answered. “Royal didn’t want me there,” I added, smirking.

“That’s true. I didn’t want her there at all.

All I kept saying was what can some tv witch do for my sound.

I was pissed and causing problems from the jump.

But Ave came out swinging, after she cussed my ass out.

” he admitted causing chuckles to vibrate against the walls.

“I was obviously wrong; she has been a major part of developing my album.”

Candace whispered loudly, “That’s romantic as hell.”

Allison’s knife clinked against her plate. “I suppose being ‘wrong’ is a common theme in your life, isn’t it?”

That was the last straw. I set my fork down slowly, my hands starting to shake. “Okay.”

“Averi,” my dad warned.

“Nope. No more warnings. No more silent stares. Mama, you’ve been nasty all night.” Her eyebrows shot up like I had just cursed in a church. “I’ve tried to be patient. I’ve tried to be respectful. But let’s be clear—if your goal was to embarrass me, mission fuckin’ accomplished.”

“Averi, watch your mouth. I’m just concerned?—”

“No, you’re controlling. You don’t care about my happiness; you care about appearances. You want me with someone you can brag about at brunch. Not someone you don’t understand. Someone who doesn’t fit into your little curated life.”

“You’re being dramatic as usual.”

“And you’ve been judgmental since the day I told you I wanted to write music instead of filing legal briefs and kissing ass at law firm holiday parties.

” She opened her mouth, but I wasn’t done.

“You want the truth? I don’t admire your marriage.

I don’t want your life. You and Daddy have been pretending so long, y’all don’t even know how to love each other anymore.

You sit in this cold-ass house, throwing wine and shade, but you haven’t smiled at that man across the table in ten years! ”

The room went dead silent before my daddy spoke; “Averi, that’s enough.”

“You think I want that?” I asked ignoring him, feeling my temper rising with each word I spoke, “You think I want to settle into a life of silence and social climbing? You think I want a man who looks good on paper but doesn’t see me?”

“Sis—” That was Elias who was to my right, putting his hand on mine but I snatched away from him.

Tears were hot in my eyes, but my voice didn’t waver.

“Royal sees me. He don’t want me to be nothing or nobody other than who I am.

If he could want that for me, why the hell can’t you?

” My mama was speechless for once. Mouth slightly open.

Fork mid-air. I stood up, straightening my shoulders.

“This dinner—oh no wait—I mean interrogation, is over.” I turned to Royal. “Can we go?”

He nodded then he stood without a word and followed me out like he always did—calm, quiet, and unfazed. The second we pulled off, the tension evaporated like smoke.

“You good?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry,” I muttered, wiping a tear from my cheek. “I didn’t mean for it to go like that.”

Royal reached across and took my hand. “You stood up for yourself. I respect the fuck outta that.”

“I just… a part of me wants to say I can’t believe she would act like that but who the fuck am I kidding? That’s just my mama.”

He squeezed my hand. “Ain’t nothin’ she said bothered me, Ave.”

“Well, that’s my fuckin’ family.” I shook my head exhaling. “Every bit of the bougie ass people you thought me to be, right?”

“Hell yeah.” He laughed. “But look, I met your real family back in Cali. And they fuck with me heavy, so it don’t even matter.”

I laughed through my sniffles. “They really do.”

“And I fuck with you, Ave. All the way. Let them talk. That just mean we doing something right.”

“Right.”

And in that moment, in his car, hand in his, I realized this man—tattoos, rough edges, hood past and all—was the safest place I’d ever been.