Attractive in Unexpected Ways: Part3

***

Harlee had a bad feeling when she woke up this morning. Her temples ached like she’d chugged back three White Russians and seven Sex on the Beach’s. Days like this rarely came, but when they did, it knocked her off her feet. Then she looked in the mirror and puffy eyes showed back at her. She had been crying in her sleep again but it went unnoticed this time. Her asymmetrical hairstyle was in a disarray of lengths and directions as if someone had tossed her salad the night before but when she looked back at her bed, no one was to be found. Well it was another new day. It wouldn’t hurt her pride to boss some folk around. Reaching for her phone to call Jaden, Harlee slid off her pajama shorts. There was no phone under her hand though.

Panic set in immediately and as she dropped to her knees in hopes the apple would be safely forgotten on the plush carpet, her brother walked through her bedroom door—uninvited.

“So why in the hell are you wearing Saturday panties on a Thursday afternoon?”

  “Keith”, how did you get in my house?—

“Wait! What did you say?” Harlee continued.

“What do you mean, what did I say, sis? I asked why in the hell are you five days behind on your hygiene calendar? That is not like you at all!”

“No! Not that you twit! And for your info, I was in favor of the color. Last night I was stuck on the color turquoise and voila, my Saturday dungarees just so happened to be said color. Anyway besides that, did you say it was Thursdayafternoon?”

Keith looked at his Evo then down at his sister. “Umm, yup! It’s 1:43pm as we speak, hence the af-ter-noon statement. You okay sis?

“No I’m not okay! I was supposed to be at work for eight this morning. Now it’s almost two o’ clock in the blasted afternoon and I haven’t even brushed my teeth. Jaden must be helpless without me.”

“Harlee, aren’t you the senior editor? You should have all right to sleep in late.”

“Ugh!” she screamed. You’re just like a man, Keith!”

“That I am. Sorry I couldn’t turn myself into a flustered female like yourself.”

“Get Out,” Harlee screamed and before she could get up off her knees to aim a figurine at him, her brother had already shut the door.

“Oh! By the way,” Keith said behind the closed door. “Are you still planning on transitioning your hair back to its natural state?”

“Why?” Harlee asked warily.

“Well I saw this young lady on the train today and her hair was looking well put together while at the same time looking…free. Yeah, free is the word.”

Sigh…”You’re still such a kid, Keith. Always tryna put his hands in random girls’ hair.”

“Hey! I may still be in my mid 20’s but I’m no kid. Her hair just reminded me of…black mashed potatoes.—

“Ha ha ha! What did you just say? Have you been drinking that Four Loko again Keith?”

“I had some last night, but that doesn’t matter. Don’t you remember your own hair? Your hair used to remind me of mashed potatoes. It was gorgeous!”

“Well, sadly no. And if you don’t mind, I’m running late as you can see.”

“Okay, but I’m telling you sis, you’d look great transitioning back. I should’ve gotten that woman’s number too. And guess what, she was reading a classic. Mom’s favorite books. The one she named you after.”

“Harlequin?” Harlee shouted as she roamed around her room looking for her missing phone.

“Yeah. Those damsel-in-distress novels.”

“Ha ha, very funny Keith. Now go make me some tea.”

“Okay big sis. Whatever.”  

It was the fastest, Harlee had ever gotten dressed. Forgetting all concern for a fresh shower, she slipped on the first suit her hand touched in her walk-in; a navy blue tightly altered three piece. Happy about her random selection she matched the ensemble with her matte Manolo Blahnik leather Mary Janes.

Finding her apple iPhone under her satin pillow, she could only do so much as pull the sheets up to the top of the bed and plug it into its charger for the five seconds she’d be in the house. No time for fancy making of sheets and remembering that her car was still in Joe’s shop four miles away, she grabbed a pair of leather gloves to hold the dirty train cart rails with. Those could always be cleaned but germs on skin would have a long-term affect.

“Where are you going? I made the tea,” Keith yelled after Harlee’s racing body as she dodged out the door.

“I’ve got a lot to catch up on, Keith. Sorry I couldn’t drink your luscious Chamomile.” Then she was out the door and through her front gate. 

The comfortable cushion of her Blahnik soles pounced the pavement as she crossed the street into the subway station and as soon as she got to the bottom of the stairs a train was pulling in. Must be sheer luck, she thought. It was empty as well and thank god her purse had make up and a comb to recreate her sophisticated façade. Taking a seat in the middle of the cart, Harlee pulled out her foundation and lightly applied it to her face, followed by concealer to erase the dark circles from under her eyes. When she had neutralized her face and neck she moved on to her hair; something she never had to worry about. Pulling out a foldable bendy comb, she quickly swiped through the asymmetrical bob just three times. Creating a bob was no problem with creamy crack dancing around in her scalp’s follicles.

Wetting her fingertips with a swab of spit, she curlicued the loose strands by her sideburns and smoothed down her edges. And people say creamy crack is a sin. Sorry girls, but it’s my savior. Harlee relished in the thought that she could still do her hair in a few seconds on a moving train, while her girlfriends, mostly natural, had to wake up extra early to do a considerably pleasant hairstyle. She would never get tired of perms.

The doors closed from the present stop and in walked a middle aged man wearing a Starbucks hat. Usually Harlee wouldn’t give him a second thought but this guy was gorgeous. She looked him up and down then saw what seemed to make the day all the more ironic. In the man’s hands laid a Harlequin novel and while she put her comb away, she could only think of sitting there looking from book to man. Checking which stop she was at, Harlee quickly turn around and looked through the train windows. Nowhere close, she thought. Now she’d be infatuated with this handsome, Harlequin reading man. Looking over his physique, she liked what she saw; a medium build and very strong arms. But damn! That Starbucks hat! Please don’t tell me he works there.

“Well so what if he did’”, she heard herself saying out loud.

The middle aged Harlequin reader looked up in her direction, and smiled a courteous set of teeth. Harlee smiled back nervously and wondered why she had bit her tongue all those other unnecessary times. Now would’ve been perfect timing.

“Did you say something,” the man asked Harlee.

“Oh! No… just talking to myself.” Oh God! Now I sound like a maniac.

“Oh. Okay. Ummm do you like Harlequins, Miss? I noticed you checking out the cover.”

Harlee was astonished. His voice was so smooth and subtle. It matched his sculpted face perfectly. Please don’t let him be gay God!

“Well actually, I edit them.”

“Oh really? You work for Harlequin? So can you please tell them to change up the schemas. Everything is pretty much the same except their nationalities and responses.”

Harlee laughed at this. “I am not sure I can promise you that but I do agree with you. I actually got a job there because of my mom. She named me after the house because she was infatuated with them and ever since knowing that, I felt like it was God giving me a sign; a career path.”

The man looked at her for a few seconds.

“So your name is Harlequin?”

“Harlee, actually.” Harlee laughed at this random conversation.

“Hmmm…that’s a nice name, Harlee. My name is David.”

She had two more stops to go and she was not happy.

“Nice to meet you, David. It’s rare that I speak with anyone on the train.”

“Oh! Well I do it everyday of my life, Harlee. Well not everyday but I’m guessing you catch my drift.

“Yes you’re very friendly, if I may say.”

“Thanks.”

Then the awkward silence occurred. Something she always ran away from. So she continued.

“So—,” they both stated at the same time.

They stopped to look at one another then laughed out loud.

“Maybe we can continue our conversation sometime, Harlee”

He is bold, Harlee thought. “Sure, why not,” she heard herself say.

They exchanged numbers and David promised he’d call. Reaching for the apple in her double breasted trench, she began to write a mass email. By the time she exited the station, she’d have service to send it.

To All This May Concern,

Did you all enjoy not having my voice up your asses? Well the solitude is about to end. Sorry! I’m feeling extra peppy today!

   Ronnie: Cancel my 3:00 appointment with Ezra Stokes.

 Maxwell: Leave my key on my dining table. You should know better than busting into your sister’s house.

Cierra: Pick me up two White-Chocolate Mocha’s on your way in; One Frap, one Latte.

Nali: You’re FIRED! LOL.... Just playing. Get Marco on the phone. I’ll be up in 7.

•             

Attractive in Unexpected Ways: Part 2

***

The 1 train was right on time…as usual and Jaden was blazed up for a great day ahead. Her boss hadn’t called this morning to bark orders into her husband’s phone. The phone he paid for every month to be disrespected by a forty year old business woman with no life besides her editorial career. At least the anxiety levels would be low and the production levels would be high. Well, on her part at least. The moving train did not seem like it would stop but sure enough it did allowing Jaden to take one good look at her reflection and standing there glaring back at her in the dull metallic was a baldheaded black goddess.

“Baldheaded?!” Jaden screamed out loud as she realized her nighttime satin cap was still stuck onto her head. One hand filled with a cup of hot java and the other occupied with her Kindle did not make this episode any better. Think quick, she said to herself.

The doors to the train glided open revealing the melodic dings it made at every stop. Jaden ran into the first seat she saw and removed the cap when java and kindle were safely out of her hands. Folding the rinky-dink piece of material she had cut from an old pair of stockings, it laughed at her through its sheer wrinkles. Had anyone seen this drastically embarrassing episode? She thought to herself. Then she looked up to see a wooly haired girl gawking her way. The girl’s hair looked like a bowl of black mashed potatoes. Her eyes were curvy with no help from Cover Girl or E.L.F and a white blossom sprung from the back of her left ear like it was meant to be there.

 Jaden gave her a smile and rustled her own semi-wooly hair as the train pulled off. The new growth from her post-perm was already giving her problems. Shedding unwanted strands during the day, revealing an atypical struggle for the everyday black female and making it impossible to create a style from was her norm now. Why could this mashed potato girl have an intelligent mane without even trying while Jaden had been fighting with her own mane for years—since time could tell?

Ryan adjusted the flower behind her ear as she looked up at the grown woman rushing into the train, face done, but hair wrapped. Was this the new fad of 2010? she thought. Didn’t African American women care for their hair like she did? Ryan’s Harlequin was closed by this time. She wanted to see what this lady would muster up in the time it took her to leave the train.             Slowly, the metal box rolled away from the station as Jaden fussed with her hair. Ryan just kept looking at Jaden’s rough roots growing insubordinately with its creamy crack ends.    

The strands were jet black with a burgundy patch in the front. The ends fell to her shoulders while the roots shrunk to her scalp. Taking her wide tooth comb from her purse, Jaden was grateful to know that she was far from her next “seat” neighbor. All the better. Now she could stretch and pull her hair any which way she wanted without disturbing the person or people next to her. Ryan could take it no more. Which woman had the gall to comb her hair in the train? Let alone transitioning hair. Hmmm, Ryan thought. Then it snapped into Ryan’s mind like a light bulb. Satin cap? Embarrassing look on her face. It was a mistake! Yes! Just a regular mistake done by an everyday black women. Then Ryan put herself back in check.

Ryan smiled at Jaden this time around. Knowing what she did was a bold move; she couldn’t help but believe that this girl with the mashed potato hair had once been in this situation as well. Then Ryan spoke up; something she would not have done if she didn’t already feel comfortable with this female, two-toned, halfway natural stranger.

“Having one of those days?” Ryan said with a smirk? Then she continued before Jaden could answer. “I was going to do the same thing this morning till I passed my mother’s mirror on the way out the door.” Jaden felt at peace.

“Well humans aren’t perfect, right?” Jaden chuckled.

“Nope, I guess not,” said Ryan. Then she stayed silent as if the conversation had been cut off with an announcement from MTA. It was like those once-in-a-lifetime moments you had with a stranger on an elevator. Jaden did not know this young lady and yet, they were laughing it up over simple errors of the strong independent female culture.

Ryan took her Harlequin back out to read while Jaden gave herself an informal pompadour right above her forehead. Pinning it down with the hairpins from her nightcap, she ruffled the back of her half kinky, half straight mane and put the Office Max rubber band, dangling from her wrist, around the end to create a very loose bob. Job done, she said to herself. And she didn’t even need a mirror. Then 116^th street appeared through the windows of the train car with its florescent lighting and colorful two-toned tiles and it was her turn to get off.

“I love Harlequin’s, by the way,” Jaden expressed. “Always seems to take me to another world.” Then she exited the train without another word.

Ryan sat where she was and smiled in Jaden’s direction as the coincidental day went on. First her hair attracted a particularly handsome stranger, and now another’s was sparking up conversation she’d never think to indulge in. Jaden exited the train feeling lighter than ever. Sometimes you just needed an imperfect moment to bring out the joy in life. Exiting the station, she decided to stop for a Chai Latte at the local Starbucks. Zoning in on the Starbucks logo, she imagined having flowing hair like the black, white, and green Siren painted below the Starbucks sign. She thought back to all of her transitional friends and realized that they really did have unique hair texture. Oh Lord, if this transition doesn’t work out, ill shave it all off—I swear! She said to herself.

She reached the front of the line in no time and before she could take her order, the cashier was asking for her name.

“Jaden Taylor”, she said in a clear voice.

“Is that one name?” the middle aged worker asked.

Jaden could think of nothing to do but laugh. Her day had already begun in a burst of energy so why not go with the flow.

“Oh! No it’s not but I just like saying it as one name,” Jaden explained.

“Well okay… Ms. Taylor.”

“Yeah,” Jaden added.

“One grande Chai Latte for Jaden Taylor, please,” the cashier spoke out loud. Jaden could tell her loved his job. This man, standing at an even six feet like her husband with a more than defined medium build, was adding to her day.

“Will that be all Ms. Taylor?” the cashier asked.

“Yeah, that’ll be all.”

“Ok, that’ll be $4.10 please. By the way, you should help my sister out with her hair. She’s been dying to learn how to do those bumps you women do.

“Oh this?” Jaden asked, touching the puffy pompadour.

“Yeah that thing. I don’t know what’s so hot about them but yours looks really cool. Especially with that color. “

“Thanks,” Jaden stated before heading over to wait for her Latte. I don’t even know this man! She thought.

I can definitely dig his humor thought. Picking up her Latte was the bonus. Removing its cap, she headed to the do-it-yourself station and added a hint of cinnamon and nutmeg. The rustling of leaves caught her ear and the whistling of the wind gave her goose bumps. This was always her favorite time of the year; a time when she got an extra hour of sleep and slept in late on the weekend with her hubby and an extra fluffy comforter.  Heading down the road to her job would now put her day into retrospect. She was at a job she loved, in a city she loved, with the man she loved and now all she wanted was her hair to catch up to this recurring  rhythm.

Attractive in Unexpected Ways: Part1

The train rocked back and forth as Ryan’s eyes zoned in on the withered pocket protector. Her eyes formed a monotone line and her hands stayed clasped together on top of her heavy school tote which awkwardly shook in her lap. There was always a myth about those pockets protectors. She only thought socially challenged people used them but as she spread her lids wider to view the owner of the geek squad accessory, she didn’t feel so monotone anymore. Instead, her tote felt heavier, her Harlequin novel; like slippery plastic, and her hands—numb. The young man was staring at her with handsomely intent eyes.

His dark smile hovered in front her as he got out of his seat and wobbled toward her to pick up the flower that had dropped out of her hair. Her mashed-potatoe-hair was what her mother called it. Soft like clouds but portrayed in its inverted light. She didn’t know what was happening until he showed his face again, this time just a few feet away with the flower in his palm.

Did this ever happen on trains? She thought to herself as she stared. Her high cheek bones flushed red as he flashed white teeth. She didn’t say thank you as he handed her the fallen accessory. Instead she removed a headphone and smiled as well. His pocket protector was tilting her way now and spread across its folded base were blotches of ink; blue ink that resembled a fountain pen’s slip up. Ryan kept smiling. Nothing more. She just kept smiling.

“Aren’t you going to put that back in?” the pocket protecting stranger voiced. 

Looking down into her hands laid the lonely white faux blossom. He was still smiling and so was she. Shoving her soft wooly mane behind her left ear with her right hand, she replaced the flower without another slight movement. He traced her hands with his eyes then went back to his awaiting seat. The rest of the train ride seemed awkward enough. It was as if he was staring past her but at her at the same time. What could it be, she questioned herself. 96^th street pulled into view and she knew it was time to break the silence. At least voice her thoughts. But what would she say?

Heaving her school tote onto her right shoulder she carefully got up out of her seat and held the metal bar of the train car. Rambling thoughts went in every direction of her mind. That was very thoughtful of you? …ugh! No!. Hmmm…how about ‘I would’ve been lost without that flower’. She shook the thoughts into the back of her brain. Nice pocket protector? Then she chuckled at the sound her voice would make after expressing the short alliteration.

The train stopped with a screeching halt and she felt for the faux blossom just in case it had dropped again. Then he got up as well and exchanged his brown leather briefcase into his other hand; the right one as well.

“Thank you,” she said breathlessly without giving the words a second thought.

“I’m Keith,” he stated with an outstretched hand and a warm smile, this time not so dark. “I like your hair. Doesn’t look like you…restrain it.” Then he laughed a chuckle that she could never compare to that of a Geek Squad affiliate. It was quiet and raspy. She smiled again.

“Am I suppose to restrain it?” she asked as she grabbed his waiting hand in a firm shake. “I... I like your usedpocket protector. Never seen one this close before.” Then she smirked up at him. An insult for an insult.

“And my name is Ryan”. Time to let his hand go, she kept repeating to herself but he didn’t seem to think so. His hand as well as his eyes still held hers.

They exited the train together and parted ways. He ran up the stairs and she crossed the platform to transfer to the already-in-the-station 1 train. 

Was her hair that much of an attraction? Hmmm…nah—couldn’t be, she thought. Then she reached for the forgotten her Harlequin, now tucked under her left arm, to complete the contorted story of banned heiress Gabrielle.