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Authors: Shana Burton

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BOOK: Catt Chasing
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Chapter 11
Three days later, Catt found herself staring out of the window of Jamal's shiny black Suburban as he backed out of her driveway.
“Turn left,” directed the automated voice through the GPS system. It was the first of many directives sure to follow during the 200 miles of highways and back roads they had to cover that day. Catt wondered if the monotonous voice would be the only semblance of conversation they'd encounter for the duration of the trip. She had nothing to say to him, and he had even less to say to her. There was little else to do but sit back, delve into her new Michelle McKinney Hammond book, and pray that the time passed quickly.
Accordingly, there was no shortage of prayers being lifted on Catt's behalf. When she announced her imminent departure to her father, he immediately recruited a group of prayer warriors to encircle her and cover her in prayer. The unspoken concern was not that Catt would be out of town for nearly a month, but that she would be out of town with a strapping young man. Catt led a disciplined, God-directed life, but Jeremiah knew that she was subject to falling into temptation and sin just like everyone else. Some divine intervention could always put a crutch in the devil's plan before it had a chance to surface.
Toria, on the other hand, was a little more practical. Her going away present to Catt was a free hairdo along with a box of condoms.
“Just in case . . .” Toria cautioned her.
Catt balked at the idea of sleeping with Jamal and left the condoms at the hair salon.
After nearly five minutes of driving in silence, Jamal was the first to speak. “You wanna stop and get something to eat?” he asked without looking at her.
“Just because I'm a big girl doesn't mean I'm always hungry,” Catt replied, then held in her stomach, daring it to growl and contradict her.
He cringed. “I just asked. I don't plan on stopping until we need gas or until we get to Philly, whichever comes first.”
She rolled her eyes. “What if I have to pee?”
“There are some paper cups in the back. Knock yourself out.”
Catt turned the page in her book and eyed the GPS. They had only gone seven miles, and she was already ready to strangle him.
“You wanna stop or what?” he asked again as they approached a chain of fast-food restaurants.
“I don't care.”
He sighed heavily and pulled into the Waffle House parking lot. “We're not going to be in here all day,” he warned her, thrusting the gear into park. “Just long enough for some coffee and an omelet.”
“Don't I get a say in the matter?” asked Catt as she climbed out of the car.
“No.”
After they sat down and placed their orders, the conversation that passed between them was limited to terse statements and one-word answers. Catt knew that if the next three weeks were going to be bearable, it would be up to her to at least make an effort to be cordial to Jamal.
She took a deep breath and said, “Tell me something I don't know about you.”
He didn't look up from his scattered hash browns. “I don't like to talk while I'm eating.”
She smacked her teeth and stirred cream into her coffee. “I'm just trying to make conversation.”
“No one asked you to do that.”
“I just think that we should get to know each other better, don't you?”
“We work together all day, every day. We already know everything we need to know.”
“Not really. For instance, what's your favorite food? When's your birthday? What college did you go to?”
“Catt, I'm not about to play twenty-one Questions with you. That's some adolescent, high school mess. I've got better things to do.”
“Like what?” she asked defiantly, cutting her pecan waffle into bite-sized pieces. “What better things do you have to do for the next three weeks than deal with me?”
“Look, I've got a lot on my mind right now. I've got at least four hours of driving ahead of me; I've got to make sure everything is ready for this first stop; and I've got to deal with a self-righteous, Bible-thumping know-it-all for the next three weeks. I just want to enjoy these last few minutes of peace I have right now.”
Catt was thinking of a snappy comeback when her cell phone rang. She answered it, grateful for the interruption. “Hello?”
“Hey, Catt, it's me, Eldon . . . Minister James.”
“Hey, Eldon, what's up?”
“Your dad just reminded me that you're leaving today. I wanted to let you know that I'm praying for you to have a safe journey, and I'm counting the minutes until you get back.”
“That's sweet of you to say. Now, admit it—did my father put you up to calling me?”
“He didn't have to. I told you . . . I like you, Catt. I'm really hoping that you'll let me take you out to dinner when you get home.”
Catt smiled into the phone. She was happy to have something to look forward to while she endured the road trip from hell. “Sure, Eldon. I'd like that.”
“Then it's a date!” he confirmed. “We can work out the details when you get back. Call me when you get to your destination. I think I'll sleep better knowing that you got there safely.”
“Will do,” she assured him. “I'll talk to you later.”
Jamal cut his eyes toward her and stopped chewing for a second. “Was that your boyfriend?”
“Why?”
He swallowed. “I'm just shocked that you'd even have a man.”
“And I'm shocked that they let dogs like you roam the streets without a leash, so we're even.”
Jamal laughed to himself. “I'm even more curious about the kind of man who'd date you. He must have low self-esteem. You seem like the type who would do that to a brother.”
“Jamal, you would really be doing both of us a huge favor if you stopped pretending like you know me. You don't!”
“I may not know you all that well, but I know your type.” He chewed his omelet. “I'm an expert on women.”
She shot him a blank stare. “Oh, I know this'll be
too
funny! Please, enlighten me, Mr. Ford. Amaze me with your candor and wisdom regarding the fairer sex.”
He wiped his mouth. “I will.” Jamal turned to Catt and gave her the once-over. “You're the classic overachiever. I bet you got all A's in school, probably were the captain of the debate team, president of the Honor Society. You didn't date much—too busy hitting the books and hiding snack cakes under your pillow. But you secretly longed to be the cheerleader or the popular girl in school who had all the guys drooling. Even now, you make the big dollars and get to push people around at work, but you're still lonely. You're still that insecure fifteen-year-old who wanted nothing more than for the cute basketball player to ask her to the prom or to even notice that she existed.”
“Wow . . .” said Catt in amazement.
“Hit it right on the head, didn't I?” he asked smugly.
Catt nodded slowly. “It's incredible . . . you're an even bigger idiot than I thought!”
“What?”
“You're right. I was the captain—of the
cheerleading squad
, not the debate team! And I didn't spend my nights with my nose in some book. It just came naturally to me. I spent my nights with my sorors having fun and partying like everyone else. And I had a man, who, ironically,
was
a basketball player. We were together for three years, and
I
dumped
him
when I realized that I was too fabulous to settle for anything less than God's best. So you can take your little theory about me and
shove
it!” She flung one of her napkins at him.
“I bet there's at least a little truth to it,” boasted Jamal. “Like I said, I know women.”
“Really? Then why are you still single?”
“You mean other than the fact that I choose to be? For starters, most women don't even make it past the thirty-Day Plan.”
She squinted her eyes. “The
what?
”
“The thirty-Day Plan. It's a system I've developed when it comes to dating. It's how I determine if I want to wife 'em or one-night 'em.”
“What, pray tell, does this system consist of?” she asked sarcastically.
“It's a series of little tests to judge the important things. You know, how well a woman can hold a conversation and if she knows when to shut up. Does she have a stable job, is she too clingy or needy, have her head right and her
brain
right, if you know what I mean. Things like that.”
Catt rolled her eyes. “Those are the
important
things?”
“Well, I mean, she's got to be gorgeous too,” he noted.
She waited for more. “And that's it?”
“That's enough.”
“Says who?”
“Any warm-blooded, straight male.” Jamal mashed the remaining omelet into what was left of his hash browns. “Do you have a better guide for finding a wife?”
“Yes, the Bible.”
He groaned and threw down his fork. “There you go again . . .”
“So you don't believe in the Bible?”
“If I say ‘no,' are you going to sic Daddy on me?”
“If you don't believe in God and the Bible, my father will be the least of your problems, you heathen!”
Jamal held up his hands. “Relax, all right? I believe in God and the Bible and all that, but I'm also practical.”
“What's more practical than desiring a woman of noble character, handles her business, makes her own money, feeds both the poor and her own family, keeps her man happy, knows when and when not to talk, and loves the Lord?”
“Tell me where I can find that chick!”
“In the Bible, specifically in Proverbs,” replied Catt. “I've just describe the virtuous woman.”
“I thought we were talking about women who actually exist.”
“She does exist, but you'll never find her with that stupid thirty-Day Plan of yours.”
Jamal pointed at Catt with his fork. “Don't knock the plan, Catt. I've dodged a lot of bullets using that system.”
“You mean like Miss Missing Panties?”
He chuckled. “Yvette is a nice li'l package. She's sexy, smart, a lady in the streets but a freak in the sheets. It doesn't get much better than that.”
“And where are she and her panties on the Plan?”
“Day eighteen, passed the halfway mark. I'm surprised you didn't recognize her. She models for J. Crew sometimes.”
“A model—what a surprise,” she replied drily. “And this is what attracted you to her?”
“You haven't seen her naked, Catt. Her body is the truth!”
Catt sprinkled salt on her grits. “It all sounds a little shallow to me.”
Jamal corrected her. “What you're saying is
I
sound a little shallow to you, right?”
“I just think your criterion is a little superficial. It's all about looks and sex.”
“I said good conversation too,” he interjected.
“But looks seem to be a huge part of the equation. The Bible says charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting. It goes on to say, ‘Your beauty should not come from outward adornment . . . Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight.' I wouldn't get so hung up on the exterior if I were you.”
“You're not me.”
“What if you met a woman who was smart, funny, who stimulated you mentally and figuratively, but she wasn't exactly gorgeous? Would you give her a shot?”
“Depends . . . what does her body look like?”
Catt hesitated. “She's my size.”
Silence passed between them again. Then Jamal admitted, “I don't think I'd be physically attracted to a larger woman.”
“So it doesn't matter how smart she is or . . . if she doesn't look like Halle Berry's twin sister, you're not interested.”
“I didn't say all that.”
“But that's what you meant. Men like you miss out on your blessings every day just because women don't come wrapped the way you think they should. Besides, who's to say that dime you're so obsessed with won't turn into a fat quarter a few meals and babies down the road?”
“Whatever! You're still single, so what does your Bible have to say about that?”
“It says, ‘The Lord Almighty has sworn, surely, as I have planned, so it will be, and as I have purposed, so it will stand.' My husband will come according to God's timing, not mine. Having a man isn't my priority right now anyway. Having a man fall in love with this new fragrance and buying a ton of it for his lady is.”
BOOK: Catt Chasing
12.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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