But Billie and Gina have been my best friends ever since we all competed in the Queen America pageant two years ago. They’d been the only two other Black women in our class that year, and though none of us had won, we’d always said our instant friendship was worth more than any crown.
We tried to talk on FaceTime at least once a month. And since they were both on East Coast time they went out of their way to accommodate my hectic ER Nurse schedule. Yes, I like to tell it like it is, but I’d never mock either of their dreams.
“Sorry, that eye roll wasn’t meant for you,” I assured Billie. “I got distracted by this stupid text that came through on my watch about this hot doc all the nurses are slobbering over. They call him ‘The Fine Prince’, and everybody’s been acting crazy stupid about him ever since he came through for this fellowship.”
“Ooh, tell us more about The Fine Prince!” Billie demanded. “He sounds a lot more interesting than my accounting degree.”
“No, trust me, it isn’t,” I answer with another eye roll. “I already have to put up with the other nurses talking about him all the time. Let’s talk about accounting. Right Gina?”
“Sorry, Cynda, I’m on Billie’s side,” Gina answered, her southern accent honeyed and sweet. “All of us, including Billie, know she’ll make a great whatever she wants to be.”
“Aw, thanks, Gina!” A bright smile lit up Billie’s entire face.
It’s a sweet friendship-affirming moment for one whole second, but then Gina says, “Now spill the tea on this hot doc of yours.”
“He’s not mine,” I started to answer.
But Gina blew right through my point. “Plus, I want to live vicariously. If I even look sideways at another man, it’s a huge fight with Tommy.”
I frowned. Gina had only started dating Tommy, a sergeant with the Jonesboro PD a few weeks ago, and he was already telling her she shouldn’t look at other men? “How does that work with you being a stripper?”
There was no judgment from me about Gina’s current career. She was doing what she had to put herself the rest of the way through Emory part-time after not winning the America Queen pageant—unfortunately, her Princess Georgia scholarship money hadn’t been nearly enough to cover the prestigious university’s cost.
But I didn’t see how her fledgling relationship would work if this new guy of hers was too jealous to even let her look at other men.
Gina’s gorgeous face crinkles as she waves a perfectly-manicured hand dismissively. “It’s fine. He knows I’m just working when I’m at Magic Peaches—I mean that’s where he met me. But when I’m with him. He wants me to only be with him and not thinking about any other guys. That’s all.”
In the other FaceTime screen, Billie twisted her lips.
And I said out loud what we were probably both thinking. “That sounds controlling AF!”
“Yeah,” Billie agreed. “Are you sure this guy is a match for you, Gina?”
“C’mon guys, I was just making a little joke,” Gina said with an exasperated shake of her blond mane. “He’s great. He buys me presents and he can be so sweet. It doesn’t matter if sometimes he gets jealous.”
“It doesn’t?” I sucked on my teeth, because, “If a guy tried to catch salt like that with me, I’d be like deuces.”
“Or if he ate off-brand Little Debbie Oatmeal Crème Pies,” Gina replied, throwing me an exasperated look.
Okay, that had actually happened a few months ago. An EMT I was dating tried to offer me one of those foul Mrs. Freshley Oatmeal Crème Cookies the morning after first sex. There was no second sex. “I mean those things are just gross.”
“How about the murse you dumped because he said ER was better than Grey’s Anatomy?”
“Shonda’s show is clearly superior!” I shot back.
“Remember the vegan?” Billie asked, jumping on Gina’s bandwagon.
“That is a very aggressive decision to make in St. Louis,” I answered, my voice whiny and defensive. “And it made it so hard to eat.”
“Then why did you dump that perfectly nice firefighter who ate too much meat?” Gina asked.
“Who only eats at steak houses?” I asked back.
“Ooh! Ooh! Remember the lawyer she ghosted because he didn’t vote for the right judge?” Billie asked Gina.
Gina’s eyes flare comically. “I forgot about that one! Like president or governor, I can understand. Maybe even the mayor. But who stops dating someone because of what judge they voted for in the election?”
“If he’d voted right, a Black woman would have had a chance of making it onto the Missouri Supreme court!” I insisted.
Gina shrugged and shook her head at me like she was trying hard not to laugh. “I’m just saying my standards and your standards are on two different levels and I’m fine with that. Because my level isn’t located in Crazytown. I mean how many guys have you been through in the last year?”