The 90 Day Rule Read Online Free PDF Page A

anybody home?”
    Chazz.
    “In the bedroom, hon.”
    “I, uh, brought…”
    Now what?
    “Good.” Etty grabbed my elbow and pulled me into the living room where a short dark-skinned girl with cornrows and massive amounts of ’tude gave me the once-over.
    Chazz said, “This is Seimone. She does the women.”
    Really.
    “He means she does their hair, Mom . ” Still clear as mud so Etty elaborated, “The men’s and women’s basketball teams? You know?”
    Oh.
    Oh. Hell. No.
    Chazz said, “She did Anton’s girlfriend and she looked, um…”
    Not helping.
     Seimone glared at Chazz and grumbled, “Not a lot to work with but if y’all insist, I kin try.”
    Etty held out two boxes.
    My new stylist sat me down at the counter and ran her fingers through my lank hair. She pointed to Etty’s left hand.
    “That one’ll do jes fine.”
    That one was number 110 auburn, guaranteed to cover gray, in a convenient gel concentrate. The ‘see you later, Mom’ barely registered as she and Chazz beat a hasty retreat. Seimone set up the tools of her trade and lay out the box’s contents while humming a rap tune I actually recognized.
    …bitch i’m ballin out the gym…
     
    ****
     
    “Mom, are you crying?”
    Yes, yes I was.
    “It looks fine, honest. More than fine.”  She spun me in front of the mirror hanging on the closet door. “You look fabulous.”
    I managed to choke out, “It’s not that.” Dabbing at my left eye with a pair of cotton briefs, I moaned, “I can’t blink. Not really.”
    Darling daughter pursed her lips tight and assured me I’d get used to it.
    The cornrows revealed a pale salmon scalp freshly coated with the remnants of #110 auburn gel. Seimone had knotted the mass of precisely aligned rows at the base of my neck and tied it off with a scrunchy in a day-glo orange color. Oddly enough it went with the dark auburn my normally mousey brown had assumed under the chemical onslaught.
    My cheeks glowed with a ruddy hue, probably from having the skin stretched taut from the tight braids.
    But, hell’s bells. Who knew I had the coloring for a redhead?
    The knock on the door had me ducking for the bathroom. There was no way I was going out in public. Not tonight. Not ever.
    Penn State had a perfectly acceptable online degree program. I could order in. Pizza. Chinese. There was no need to ever leave the apartment.
    Chazz poked his head through the door and informed us unnecessarily that Coach had arrived.
    “Jesus, Etty.”
    “Mom, it’s just a meet. He’s gonna sell the program. Listen to him. Then you can make up your mind.”
    Right. I was just a prospective student investigating my career options. A job interview of sorts.
    And me wearing form-fitting jeans and a halter top that revealed far more cleavage than a woman of my age had a right to display. And auburn cornrows.
    “Where’s the jeans jacket?” There was no hiding the desperation in my voice.
    “It’s 80 degrees. You don’t need it.”
    Chazz and Mr. Nosy were discussing that afternoon’s practice, the male voices deep, their southern accents more pronounced, comfortable in their shared roots.
    Etty went out first and I heard the warm greetings and the “She’ll be right out.”
    I looked at the bedroom window, three floors up. It really wasn’t all that high, was it?
    Muttering fuck it, it’s not like it’s a date or anything , I slipped on the platform wedgies and gained a few inches of intestinal fortitude.
    Slipping through the door, I faced total silence as both Chazz and Coach turned and stared.
    I held out my hand and murmured, “I’m happy to see you again, Mr. Ryan.”
    Taking my hand, he did the thing with the thumb, but even more slowly this time, as his eyes raked me with a hard darkness I couldn’t begin to interpret.
    Whatever was going through his mind was cascading up my nerve endings, leaving long unused muscle groups to clutch spasmodically.
    Someone said something, someone else responded, words