Meet the Homegirl

Noni

Geneva's been talking about getting into pilates for ever, so finally yesterday I brought her to my mat pilates session. She hated me for it. I'm telling you, advanced pilates is no joke but fabulous for your abs, legs, and yes... your butt. Anyways, while Geneva and I were at Starbucks talking about Paul's latest antics, Carter called me. He sounded excited.

"Hey sweetheart!"

"Good morning love."

"What you up to? "

"I'm having coffee with Geneva."

"Oh, tell her I said hello. Listen! You wanna meet me and Tamika around fiveish."

"Tamika... Tamika... Remind me who she is." I was drawing a serious blank."

"You know, my homegirl. I think I mentioned her to you once or twice. But I want yall to meet."

"Oh, okay. Cool. Just tell me where."

He and I made arrangements for a pretty casual restaurant in midtown and as soon as I clicked off, I became nervous.

"Damn," I told Geneva.

"What?"

"He wants me to meet his homegirl."

"That's great."

"No! Not cool... I can't stand homegirls."

"Why, you think she's trying to lay a trap..." she joked.

"Hell yes! Whenever there's a woman all up in the picture, she's usually just laying in wait-- like a fox hiding in the damn bushes."

"Noni, you are actually a hot ass mess. First of all, the man is whipped and why would he invite you to meet her if there was something going on."

"Well no, I know there's nothing going on. And he probably does see her as just a friend. But that doesn't mean she feels the same way."

She sighed. "Well don't over react. I think you should just go into it, be nice, and if she's a problem, then you can worry."

"Oh darling, I suppose she's not as fly as me."

"Too bad for your life Noni."

Geneva and I finished up and she headed to rehearsal. I ran a few errands and headed back to the apartment to figure out what to where. I had to choose an outfit that wasn't too overdone.... I didn't want to look like I was trying to impress her, but still fly enough to intimidate her. I mean, fashion is a form of warfare. After trying on a few looks, I went with a sleeveless ruffle J. Crew blouse with a brocade pencil skirt and a pair of Jimmy Choos. I'm a short girl. Heels give me confidence.

When I arrived, Carter and the homegirl were already seated by a window, engrossed in conversation. I sized her up from the door. Even while seated, I could tell she was tall and she wore her black hair in a short, precise bob. She was moderately attractive and well put together. Her ebony skin was carefully made up. She wore a deep red on her full lips, her eyebrows were severely teased, and slanted eyes heavily shadowed. She was wearing beige dress slacks and a sleeveless shirt. I could tell from her arms, she worked out alot. She looked to be in her mid to late thirties.

Carter turned his head and saw me standing there. As I approached their table, I flashed my million dollar dollar television smile.

One thing for sure. Her breasts were fake and shoved up to her kneck in that blouse.

Carter was the model of chivalry, careful to be generous with his affection in front of the female friend. We kissed.

"Hi, I'm Noni. It's so nice to meet you!"

She stood up to shake my hand. "You as well, Noni. Carter and I were just talking about you."

"Oh."

"Your book, I hadn't heard of it." I find that hard to believe.

"Oh yes, that book is my baby."

"So what do you do now. Your out of the television business for good or are you looking."

Here was her interview. Carter motioned for the waitress and I ordered a bottle of mineral water as I explained my career choices. While in the south, I had discovered that I wasn't nearly as passionate about television as I was writing, so as soon as my writing career took off, I devoted my life to my passion. I was doing free-lance work in between books and was still open to some television work.

She seemed impressed. "And you went to Harvard???"

"Yale, I went to Yale." I hate it when people confuse the two.

"What'd you study, journalism?"

Most people ask me that question, without realizing Yale has no journalism major. "No. I was actually a Near Eastern Languages and Civilizations Major. It's basically Middle Eastern studies."

"But you never worked in the middle east?" she pressed.I could since her scrutiny.

"No. You know what, I studied what I loved. I loved the language, the culture, the literature, the history..."'

"I just about fell out of my seat the first time she recited a love poem for me in arabic." Carter cut in, finally.

I smiled. That was precisely the point I knew I had him. Carter's a sucker for intellect and so am I. "So what about you? What do you do Tamika?" I needed to get the conversation off of me, although clearly she was sizing me up. In the looks department I had her. I sure she wished I was a dumb-dumb.

I found at she's an attorney out of Newark and her and Carter had been friends since they were both married. She was also a divorcee.

"I'll never forget the day my husband met Carter and asked if we were fucking," she joked. Ummm... I didn't find it funny.I think I inadvertently gave her the side eye. "Carter's a great man," she continued. "Back in the day, we used to have some crazy times together." I had to wonder where there spouses were during all of this gallivanting. Maybe this is why they were both divorced. I relaxed my forehead, as I realized I was glowering.

As my man and his homegirl reminisced about antics with the old crew, a group of musicians and bohemian sounding low-level industry people from the north jersey/new york area I had to wonder. Have they ever slept together?

I had very little to say as the homegirl steered the conversation on memories foreign to me. That is until she asked how long we'd been together.

"Oh, I didn't realize that. You practically just met." She looked him in the eye. "Carter, you must really like this one. You gave up being a player with a passport, huh?"

"Wait, wait... I'm not going to let you sit here and ruin my rep with my lady," she smiled.

"She knows what she has, but for real Carter. Noni must be special dear." She sipped her wine.

"She is. She is."

I wanted to go. I glanced at my watch. We'd been exchanging forced pleasantries for about two hours now and I was over it.

"Aminah, you have plans?" He was starting to call me by my middle name, more and more, especially when we were alone. He thought it was more fitting. It was softer than Noni.

"Yeah love, I have a 10 PM deadline for an article." I lied. It was 10 PM the next day.

"Oh well let me get the check."

Tamika hugged me and suggested we make plans to go out, the two of us, one night. I said, "Absolutely!" 

LIES. But you know what, sometimes it's smart to keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

-Noni