Pookie suddenly barked (he never barks), jumped from my lap (he never jumps), and headed toward Julian.
“Damn,” Tasha said. “Get the dog! Get the dog!”
I stood up and followed behind Pookie.
“What do I say?” I asked.
“Say hello,” Tamia answered, pointing to Julian. I turned to find that Pookie had already made his way to his daddy’s arms. Julian was standing there holding him up, looking through the crowd like he was seeing things.
“There you go, baby,” I said, reaching for him. “Oh, Julian,” I added, trying to sound surprised. I didn’t. “What are you doing here?”
“I was wondering the same thing,” Julian replied. He was wearing a white cotton pullover and khakis—not the scrubs he usually wore at the hospital, where he said he would be.
“Oh, I was just taking Pookie for a walk.” I took him from Julian and fought not to stare at the girl, who I already had decided was ugly.
“But this is, like, over twenty blocks from your apartment.” Julian smiled.
“Pookie needs the exercise, Julian,” I said, smiling back at him. “Who’s your friend?” I didn’t look in her direction.
“I’m Miata. And you are…?” she asked, putting her hand out to shake mine. I pretended to try to maneuver Pookie around so I could shake her hand, but I couldn’t. I must’ve looked so clumsy.
“The dog,” I said, looking at Pookie. “The dog.” Although I’d completely decided that Miata was kin to Pookie when I was looking at her from across the park, I had to admit that she didn’t look that bad in a “God bless the child,” “all of God’s children are beautiful” kind of way. Like if I was Mariah Carey, she could definitely be one of my backup singers. Nah, she wasn’t that bad looking. In fact, in another life, I might have called her attractive. She had dark brown skin, slender, exotic eyes, and a weave that was so perfectly brushed, I might have thought it was real if it wasn’t one inch above her ignorantly round, clearly over-exercised ass.
“This is Troy, Miata,” Julian said. “Troy, this is Miata.” Well, I was introduced. What next? Do I get to smack the bitch now or later? I smiled and nodded my head. “Miata’s an intern at the hospital.”
“Great,” I said. Then there was complete silence. I rubbed Pookie’s back, trying to figure out when Julian was going to introduce me. Me. Hello, it’s me. Troy, your girlfriend. Your future wife…Mrs. Julian James. That’s what you said when we took that picture on New Year’s…say it now…say it now!
But still there was just silence.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Julian said just as I was about to burst into tears. “This is Troy. Troy’s in law school here at NYU.”
“Okay,” Miata said.
I looked past her and saw Tasha standing on the other side of the fountain. She had her hands on her hips and she was saying something to me. I couldn’t hear her, but by the look on her face, it was bad. “Stand your ground” was about all I could make out, trying to read her lips. “Stand your ground.”
“I’m Julian’s girlfriend,” I blurted out before giving my mind enough time to catch up with my mouth.
Miata looked stunned. She nearly dropped the ice cream cone. And while Pookie looked happy his parents finally had tied the knot, Julian looked like I’d just told him his mother died. I knew I was breaking some awful dating rule by declaring the magnitude of our relationship without Julian’s approval, but I was losing my cool. I could only imagine the nerdy convo they shared about the latest in syringe technology and cell growth. Who did this heifer think she was, anyway? I’m Troy Helene Smith. She can’t just come in and take my man. In the eleven months we’d been together, we’d built up a history: movies, dinners, trips, family outings. We were in love.
“Oh, this is her?” Miata turned to look at Julian. He nodded and she looked back at me. “The woman he loves?” I wanted to believe that she was saying it in a sweet, “let’s celebrate your black love” kind of way, but in reality her voice was an Erica Kane–like mix of snot and smug.
“Well,” Julian managed, stuttering. “Well, this is Troy.”
Miata shifted her hips and grinned slyly. I put the dog down and poked out my chest. I had never had a fight in my life, but if she was looking for one, she’d found it. Plus, my girls were just a few feet away.
“Well, Julian,” she said, licking her ice cream cone, “I’ll just leave you with this person. You know where to find me…when you’re ready to stop playing Barbie and Ken.”
“Excuse me?” I asked.
“Something I said you didn’t understand?” she asked coolly. She clearly was trying to make me lose my cool and embarrass myself, because Julian had this dumb look on his face like he had no clue she was insulting me. “I swear, NYU must do something about its open-admissions policy.”
This woman was the devil. I had nothing to say to that. No defense. At that moment, I wasn’t even sure what I could say to that. I just really wanted to hit her. But then I’d look like the bad, irrational, crazy girl, and that was what she wanted.
I looked back toward Tasha. She was shaking her head. “Say anything,” I made out from her lips.
“Well, I think it’s a good school,” I said. What? That’s all I could think of to say?
“Okay,” Miata said. “Whatever.” She tossed the ice cream in the garbage and looked back at Julian. “Call me,” she said.