Authors: Keith Thomas Walker
Mr. Manitou smiled at this. “So, you are single then? There is no one else?”
Mia thought about Tyrone again, but there was really no comparison. Mr. Manitou was a senior analyst at a trillion-dollar-a-year investment firm. Tyrone was a grease monkey at his uncle’s auto shop. Mr. Manitou had money in the bank; millions, at that. Tyrone had, well, he had a shiny new necklace. And Mr. Manitou took awesome trips to places like South Africa. Tyrone went to cool places like the Texas Department of Corrections.
Mia didn’t even know why she was considering it.
“There’s no one else,” she said.
“Well, would you say ‘yes’ if I asked you out again? If not, I would look like a bigger fool than I did at our lunch.”
“Mr. Manitou, yo—”
“Please, call me Babatunde.”
Mr. Manitou’s way easier,
Mia thought. “
Babatunde
, did I say that right?”
“Yes. It is fine.” He smiled eagerly.
“Babatunde, you didn’t make a fool out of yourself at our lunch. I already told you that. And as to whether I would say ‘yes’ if you asked me out again, that’s something you have to find out on your own. It takes all the fun out of it if you already know what I’m going to say. Asking people out is risky. Is it worth it?”
“It is most definitely worth it,” he said.
Mia smiled.
“So, Miss Clemmons, would you do me the honor of having dinner with me?”
“I’d be delighted,” Mia said.
“Great!” Mr. Manitou clasped his hand together. “When shall we go?”
“I’m not sure. I have to check my schedule.”
“Are you free tonight?” he asked.
“Tonight?”
“Yes. I have a reservation at Mille Fleurs for 7:00 p.m. Can you join me?”
Mille Fleurs was the hottest French restaurant in the city. Mia was definitely interested, but there were other things to consider.
“You have a reservation, with whom?” she asked.
“What do you mean? I would like to go with
you
.”
“You said you already have a reservation. Who were you
planning on
going with?”
Mr. Manitou smiled. “Ah. I understand. No, Mia, it is not what you think. I made the reservation for
myself
. I was not planning on taking anyone with me.”
“You were going to the best French restaurant in town
by yourself?
”
“Yes,” he said immediately. “Is that such a strange thing?”
“It is kind of odd,” Mia admitted. “Most people would rather stay home if they were alone.”
“That is not how I am,” he said. “I love French cuisine. If I choose to eat it, I will eat it. If I eat it with friends, it is good. If I eat it alone, it is still good. But I will eat what I wish whenever I wish. I will not deprive myself of a nice meal simply because I have no date.”
That actually made a lot of sense. Mia wished she could be so independent. She wondered if Crystal had plans for the evening.
“I think I can go,” she said. “Are you going back upstairs? Could I call you back and let you know in about five minutes?”
“Yes,” Mr. Manitou said and stood. “I am on my way there right now.”
“All right,” Mia said. “Thanks for stopping by.”
“No, thank
you
for having me,” he said and stepped out of the office.
Mia called her sister when he was gone.
“Hello?”
“Crystal. What are you doing?”
“Nothing, just watching TV.”
“Did you go to school today?”
“Huh?”
“Did you—girl, you heard what I said.”
“I wasn’t feeling well.”
Mia sighed and shook her head. “Look, I need you to watch the kids for a little bit tonight.”
“You going out?”
“Yeah, just for a couple of hours.”
“You’re going out with
Eric
?”
“
No!
Why would you even say that?”
“Tyrone?”
“Quit being silly.”
“Who?”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s a new guy.”
“
Mia, Mia
.”
“What?”
“Nothin’. You’ve had a good month as far as men . . .”
“Yeah? That’s what Gayle said.”
“Who’s Gayle?”
“One of the girls at Claire’s. Anyway, I gotta go. I need to get out of here before five.”
Mia called Mr. Manitou back to confirm their date for the night. He wanted her address so he could pick her up, but as a rule Mia never let new guys come to her house. She told him she’d meet him at the restaurant at seven, and Mr. Manitou grudgingly agreed. He thought it very unusual that she didn’t want to ride with him. Mia said it was probably just an American thing.
* * *
She left the office at 5:00 p.m. sharp. Tyrone called her on the way home.
“Hello?”
“Hey, girl.”
“What’s up?”
“I was wondering if I can come pick up TC today.”
“That’s fine. Where you taking him?”
“Nowhere. I was gonna bring him over here. Mama wants to kick it with him for a while. Plus, he likes playing with Kilo. How come you ain’t got no dog?”
“I don’t know. I’m thinking about getting one. How come your dog’s named
Kilo
?”
“That’s tight, huh?”
“That’s not what I was thinking,” Mia said.
“They named him when I was locked up,” Tyrone said. “I would have named him something pretty.”
“Like
Dopesack
?” Mia teased.
“Naw, funny lady. Say, can you come with us? Mama wants to see you, too.”
“I haven’t seen her in so long. How’s she doing?”
“She’s fine,” Tyrone said. “’Cept she got that sugar. They was talking ’bout cutting off her leg last year, but she pulled through. I’m glad. I woulda been messed up if
I got out and she didn’t have no leg.”
“That’s sad,” Mia said.
“So, you’re coming with us?” Tyrone asked. “We can bring Mica, too.”
“Sorry, I have something to do.”
“Like what?”
“What do you mean ‘
What
?’ That’s not your business, Tyrone.”
“It’s like that?”
“Of course it’s like that. What are you thinking?”
“I just thought since we—”
“Okay, that thing that happened after Six Flags. Tyrone, that was nice. I won’t say I didn’t like it, ’cause I did. But that didn’t make you my boyfriend.”
“I know that. I just thought you was gonna give me a chance at least.”
“Tyrone, I seriously don’t think we should go out. We did that. It didn’t work. Remember?”
“I was a kid then. I was young and stupid. I jacked it up. I know that. You know I’m not the same person I was then.”
“You
seem
more mature,” Mia admitted.
“So why you stallin’ me out like this?”
“I’m just not sure about you.”
“I’m going to quit askin’ you. You know that, right? It’s gon’ get to a point when I don’t even ask you no more.”
Mia knew she probably could have nipped it in the bud right then. All she had to say was,
Well, don’t ask me anymore
, and that would have been it.
“What time are you coming?” she asked.
“At six,” he said.
“I’ll have TC ready.”
“All right. Bye.”
* * *
The plan was perfect. Mia would get home at five-thirty. That gave her thirty minutes to get TC ready and find an outfit for her date with Manitou. She would take off her work clothes and put on shorts and a T-shirt, so when Tyrone arrived, she would look stay-at-home-casual. When he left at six, she would still have thirty minutes to change.
The plan was perfect, but it fell through when Tyrone arrived twenty minutes late. Mia had no choice but to get dressed early, and Tyrone had no choice but to see her in the elegant gown. She knew there would be a reaction, but didn’t get the one she expected. She had him fitted for anger, maybe a little indignation, but Tyrone looked downright miserable.
Mia wore a black V-neck dress with her favorite patent leather sandals. The dress was shimmering silk and long-sleeved. A satin belt encircled the waist and tied in the front. The gown wasn’t tight, but it was formfitting around the bust and hips. From the back it clung to her butt like a Band-Aid, and it must have reminded Tyrone of the pants she wore to Six Flags. Why he was even in her room, Mia had no idea.
“So, this why you can’t go say ‘Hi,’ to my mama? You finna go shake that thang in some
other
nigga’s face?”
Mia was staring into the mirror mounted on her bedroom dresser, putting on her earrings. Tyrone stood in her doorway, looking a little scruffy around the chin, Mia thought. He wore black Dickies, a black T-shirt, and a look of frustration.
TC’s room was in the opposite direction. No way did Tyrone make it to her room by accident.
“What are you doing in my room?” she asked. Mia was fully dressed, but Tyrone would not have free range of her home. Who did he think he was?
“I say, you finna shake that thang in some other nigga’s face, ain’t you?”
Mia’s face fell slack, then a sneer rose in the corner of her mouth. “I don’t owe you an explanation for anything I do,” she said, then, “Where’s TC?” Mia didn’t want things to get ugly, but she would not be disrespected in her own house.
“He’s in the living room with Mica.”
“What are you doing in my room?”
“I was gon’ ask you again if you would go with us, but now I see why you can’t go. You look nice, Mia. You—”
“You can’t come in my room,” she said.
“Why not? You got clothes on, what’s—”
“It’s
my
room, Tyrone. You don’t have any business in here. You need to stay in the front room or the kid’s room.”
“Why you talkin’ to me like that? Like I’m some burglar or somethin’?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“That’s the way you making me feel. Talkin’ ’bout I can go here, but not here, like you don’t trust me or somethin’. You actin’ like you don’t even know me.”
Mia softened a bit. “I just don’t like you barging in my room, charging me up about my personal life.”
Tyrone rubbed his chin and looked her up and down. “So, you finna go out with somebody, huh? That’s why you all prettied up.”
“What did I just say?”
“I’m not chargin’ you up. I’m just askin’,
politely
.”
Mia sighed. “What difference does it make?”
“Why won’t you go out with
me
?”
“Tyrone, I told you—”
“Yeah, you told me you don’t know about me. You not sure. In the meantime, you havin’ all yo little fun. This a new nigga or the same one?”
“Tyrone—”
“What make them niggas so much better than me?” His face twisted up. “That’s what I really want to know. What, they throw a lot of money at you? Get you some
filet mignon
?
Caviar?
That what make them better than me?”
Mia couldn’t even get upset, because Tyrone was on the verge of tears.
“Have fun,” he said, then turned and stormed down the hallway.
Mia reached out. She almost called out to him, but she put the hand over her mouth instead and fought off a wave of her own tears.
* * *
The incident with Tyrone should have been reason enough to stay home, but there were certain things Mia never did. She never cheated on a man, never slept with her girlfriend’s man, and she never stood one up, either. She pulled up to the valet parking at Mille Fleurs at 7:02. Babatunde Manitou met her at the entrance.
He wore a black suit, with a white shirt and a black tie. Mia thought he looked like a member of the Nation of Islam. After the argument with Tyrone, she wasn’t really in the mood for romance, but her date gave it his all. Mr. Manitou greeted her with two dozen roses. Mia cradled them as he led her to his table. She wondered if she looked like Miss America. She wondered how long Tyrone would stay mad at her.
Everything at Mille Fleurs was topnotch, all the way. Their waiter wore a tuxedo and spoke with a French accent that wasn’t too cheesy. And the setting was incredible. Beautiful works of art were mounted in equally beautiful frames with intricate designs. Chandeliers provided romantic lighting.
Even the menu was high-class. It came in a leather cover, had a lot of calligraphy and no prices. And once again Mr. Manitou wowed Mia with his linguistic skills. He ordered
bifteck avec pommes frites
for himself and
poisson du jour
for Mia. His meal turned out to be a rib-eye with French fries. Mia got fresh fish, the catch of the day prepared according to the chef’s whim.