On a Friday night in mid-August, Nate, Brendan, and I decided to get together and have some drinks at one of our usual hangout spots. Brendan and I were sitting in one of the booths closest to the backgammon tables in Jasper’s Restaurant in Greenbelt while Nate was at the bar getting us our third round of drinks because our waiter was moving too slowly. It was packed as usual for a Friday night. There were people everywhere enjoying the happy hour, as they had for the last fifteen or so years that the place had been open. In addition to our waiter’s slow service, Nate had said that he didn’t want the bill at the table to go over one hundred dollars, because then they would automatically add the gratuity in. He said he always liked to decide what to give his waiter or waitress himself.

While we waited for the drinks and the champagne we talked about everything from sports to politics. We argued over which had been more live, the Soul Fest, in Miami, or the Essence Festival the prior year, in New Orleans. Brendan talked smack about how good the Skins were going to be this year. All of the magazines were picking them to finish over the Cowboys but behind the Eagles and Giants again. “Yeah, right,” I had yelled in response.

When Nate came back over with the drinks, he nearly bumped into Bob, who had finally brought out our Buffalo wings and barbecued shrimp. Nate began pouring into the glasses as we each slammed shots of one kind or another.

“Yo man, a couple of chicken heads over there were sweating me because of that video,” Nate laughed.

“Aw, nigga, you know you love that shit,” Brendan said, and I nodded my head as I stuffed my mouth with a wing.

Nate, doing his best Chris Tucker impersonation, said, “And you know this, mannnnn.” Then he laughed at himself. “They wanted to come over here and drink with us, but I told them broads maybe on the next bottle. This one here is just for the fellas.”

“Yeah, we need to chill. We haven’t had a chance to kick it since you hit us with the bomb, Cory,” Brendan said with greasy lips.

“Yeah, I know. Lick those soup coolers, bro. You lookin’ like a slave up in this piece.” We laughed as my grammar slipped into its after-hours format. “So, what do you think? Are you going to be in the wedding or what?”

“C’mon fool, what kind of question is that? I’m going to give your punk ass away,” Nate laughed out.

“So, when is it? When you gonna do this thing?” Brendan asked.

“October. The first weekend,” I answered, and grabbed another wing.

Nate sat back. “You lying. That soon? What’s the rush, nigga? Is she pregnant?” Nate said jokingly.

“Yep.”

I watched and smiled as I saw both of them stop chewing. Then together they both asked, “For real?”

“Yeah, for real. She won’t be showing that soon. She wants to do it before the baby comes,” I commented.

“Damn,” Nate said.

“What’s all that for?” Brendan said. “It’s a wedding, not a funeral.”

“I know, that’s good shit and all. It’s just soon. But fuck it…y’all grown. Congratulations, dog.” Nate extended his hand. “I mean that, man, from the bottom of my heart. And it don’t hurt that she’s a fine sumthin’ sumthin’ too. Gonna make a pretty-ass baby.” Nate rambled on. “If it’s a girl, I want to be the godfather, so I can spoil her.”

“What if it’s a boy?” I asked.

He pointed at Brendan. “Then Mr. Nice Guy can be the godfather. He’ll be a better example for a boy.”

“Hell, I don’t know. All the shit he’s been going through lately. He getting more like you every day.”

Brendan smiled. “Whatever, nigga. If I was like him, I wouldn’t have gotten caught, and I wouldn’t be living with Laney’s ass right now.”

Renee had thrown him out of her townhouse on the Fourth of July weekend. He had been staying with Laney for the last five weeks. He hadn’t had the time to give moving in with her any thought, but he figured that since it was Laney’s fault that he had gotten kicked out, why should he even consider moving in with his parents? When he’d shown right back up at her house with his bags and boxes, an hour after leaving, Laney had secretly rejoiced. She finally had Brendan all to herself, at least in body.

“How’s that going?” I asked.

“Not bad. Just not much space. I’m just getting used to it…but sometimes I still think about all that stuff that went down in the spring, and then the sight of her pisses me off. But other than that…everything is cool.”

Nate pointed a finger and waved it at Brendan. “Your ass ain’t in love no more now that you stuck with that same ass every day,” Nate said while chewing. Brendan didn’t say anything back. “I know what it is, though, for real,” Nate said, like a courtroom lawyer addressing a jury.

“Nigga, you don’t know Jack.” Brendan slurped down his second glass of champagne.

Nate turned to me. “Cory, this fool is still in love with Trina.” I turned and looked at Brendan, whose face had gotten tight. He didn’t deny it, and I just shook my head.

“Believe me. I know,” Nate said. “I’ve been messing back with Kim, and she’s been telling me shit…B’s ass be creeping.”

“Whaaat,” I said.

“I gotta give it to this, nigga. He’s startin’ to get real smooth with his shit. Trina doesn’t even know he lives with Laney. He keeps telling her he might get back with her if she goes to counseling.” Nate burst out laughing. We were all feeling the drinks.

We sat around drinking and tripping for another hour. Brendan tried to tell us the ins and outs of what was going on with him and Trina. He ended up admitting that he still had feelings for her. The brother was so confused it didn’t make sense.

When he finished, Nate explained the details behind him and Kim’s reconciliation. It turned out that he had dropped by her job the previous month, walked in, and given her flowers and the clothes he had bought for India and Sahleen when he was in New York. He said he hadn’t said a word other than “hello” before walking back out. There was a card that said he had been thinking about her and wanted to make up with her. He said she had called him that night and thanked him, and told him how shocked she had been that he’d come by. She had told him regretfully that she had a boyfriend, and that they could be only friends.

That had been a month ago, and Kim was at Nate’s apartment tonight, where she had spent the last three nights, waiting for him to come in from Jasper’s. “So much for her boyfriend.” Nate laughed. He was probably a nice fellow, too. But too many women would rather have a “Nate” than a nice guy.

We finished a second bottle of Moët and I finished my strawberry shortcake and then I had to go to the bathroom. As I stood up I began to truly feel the effects of the alcohol, and I staggered toward the restrooms. I realized that I definitely had a nice buzz when I looked at myself in the mirror while washing my hands. When I walked back out of the restroom I thought I heard someone call my name, but when I looked around I didn’t see anyone. I didn’t want to look stupid by looking around the room, so I headed back toward my seat. As I made my way past the bar, I felt someone grab my shoulder from behind.

I turned around and heard “So, are you gonna just play me like that? How are you gonna ignore a sistah like that, Cory Dandridge.” Then she said something in her native Spanish as her head bounded back and forth.

She was still beautiful. It had been so many years since I had seen her last, but those years had obviously been good to her. It was amazing how much she and her sister, my fiancée, looked alike.

“Shelly,” I said, with slightly slurred speech. “I thought I heard someone calling me. How have you been? It’s good to see you,” I continued on, before waiting for her answer.

She started to smile when she realized that I truly hadn’t heard her and had not intentionally dissed her. “It’s good to see you, too.”

We both just nodded our heads, smiled halfway grins, and looked for something to say. I had plenty, but I just wasn’t prepared. Nina had decided to have a talk with Shelly herself about what was going on between her and me. She figured that it would be less of a blow to Shelly’s pride if it came from her. I knew that by this point things had gone on too long and too far for it not to cause tension between them. They were sisters, and they loved each other; however, they were four years apart, and they weren’t as close as one would expect sisters to be. Nina had always been closest to her brother, Juan.

Finally, Shelly asked, “So who are you here with…your girlfriend?”

Damn, she knows, I thought. Suddenly I got a grip and realized she was attempting to be cute, as if she had needed to attempt to be cute. “No, actually I’m here with Nate and Brendan,” I said, as I looked her up and down and noticed that her hips had gotten a little wider and her breasts a little heavier. Every pound had found the pefect spot.

“The Three Musketeers still rolling together, huh? Or should I say, the Three Stooges?” she said, as she flashed her award-winning smile. Both of those Sanchez sisters had themselves a mouth full of pretty teeth.

“Very funny,” I said, looking away from her eyes.

“Where are you guys sitting, because I’m here with Mia and a couple of other girls, and we’re still waiting for a table. They’re over there at the bar. You should say hello.”

“I will.” Then I pointed across the room to show her where we were seated. We stood there and made small talk for about ten minutes, updating one another on our careers and where we had been hanging out. I carefully avoided the subject of family, not wanting to have to pretend that I didn’t know every detail of her family life. We eventually went on about how tired we were of the club scene, and both agreed that “happy hour” was only an every-now-and-then–type thing. When it seemed as though the conversation had come to a comfortable break, she assured me that she was going to come past our table with Mia, her best friend since high school, to say hello to Nate and Brendan. Just as she turned I grabbed her arm before she could walk away completely. “Hey, Shelly,” I said meekly.

“Yes,” she answered, as she turned back to face me.

I had the feeling that I wanted to swallow deeply, but I didn’t. I simply muscled up the strength to say to her, “I need to talk to you about something really important. It’s been going on for a while, and I don’t know any other way to go about it…other than to just come right out and say it.” I watched as her eyes widened and began to water instantly. I was puzzled at why she was reacting already to something I hadn’t even said.

All of a sudden she looked really nervous. I noticed that she was biting her bottom lip, so I asked, “What’s wrong?” Her eyes were now looking at the ground, so I said, “We don’t have to talk about this here if you don’t want to.” I paused. “Why are you so upset?” I asked her, with my hands on her shoulders.

She looked back up at me. “Can we go somewhere?” she said.

“Yeah, sure,” I said, not knowing why I had agreed. “Do you want to come by my table when you finish?”

“No,” she said, seeming calmer. “I rode with Mia. Do you have a car here? Do you have anyone riding with you?” she asked.

“Uh uh. We all came in separate cars.”

Shelly looked at her watch. “Can we leave now, if that’s alright with you?”

“No problem. I’ll tell Nate and Brendan…” She started talking again before I finished.

“Okay. Pull up to the front, and I’ll be out there in a minute. I just want to tell the girls that I’m leaving.” When I nodded she walked back toward a crowded group by the bar. I went over to leave a fifty for the bill and to tell Brendan and Nate what was going down. They took a look at Shelly from where we were seated and wished me luck.

“This is nice, Cory,” Shelly said, as she looked around my living room.

I had to admit I had been a little disappointed that she hadn’t said anything about my car. I had thought that she might have been purposely holding back any compliments she had for me. When she gave me one on my apartment and its furnishings that idea flew out of the window. She had either been proccupied on the drive over or actually unimpressed with my car, which I found unbelievable. I had new rims on it, and two TVs in it. I knew she wasn’t used to riding in a whip like mine, because neither she nor her man could afford one.

“Thanks,” I said. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.” I walked into the bathroom to once again relieve myself from the effects of all the drinks I had downed at Jasper’s. I quickly brushed my teeth and walked into my bedroom. I grabbed the picture of Nina and myself from our ski trip, and the one of her by herself, and put them both in the drawer of the nightstand. I didn’t expect Shelly to come into my bedroom, but just in case she asked to see the place I wanted the pictures out of sight. When I made my way back out into the living room, Shelly was sitting Indian style on my sofa. She had taken her shoes off and was looking very much at home. I sat on the reclining leather chair and grabbed the remote to the stereo. I turned on the CD player, and Musiq came on. We listened to the first song before she asked me, “Do you have the new Jaheim CD?”

“Still Ghetto? Yeah, it’s hot.”

“Put it on after you play Musiq’s slow jam, the one that they play on the radio.”

“The one that goes ‘I will love you when you’re old and gray/I’ll still love you if you gain a little weight’…I can’t remember the name.” I tried to sing it but sounded nothing like Musiq.

“Yeah,” she breathed out. “That’s the joint, ain’t it. Excuse my English.”

“It’s alright. School’s out right now, and plus, some of my best friends speak Ebonics.”

“Yes, but I try not to master the language of Ebonics, which reminds me: As a black man you should be offended that they take a language that uses broken English, throw in some of the hood slang, and attribute it to your culture. And then they go as far as to name it after black people. Ebony-phonics. E-be-ony-fo’-nigs.”

“Huh?”

“Get it. It be only for niggas.” She shook her head.

I laughed. “Girl, you know that you are still sick.”

“You made me that way. Now put that Jaheim in.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, as I complied.

Shelly got up and walked into my kitchen. “This kitchen has a woman’s touch. Who helped you decorate?” I didn’t answer, as I heard her open the refrigerator. “Can I have some of this wine, Cory? It’s unopened.”

“Of course,” I said over the music, which was flowing out of the speakers. I was leaning in the chair when she walked back out of the kitchen with two glasses of wine and the bottle. She also had a bag of baked Lay’s potato chips under her arm. She handed me a glass, which I didn’t need, because I was still tipsy from the drinks at Jasper’s. I was disappointed with myself for even driving home under the influence. When I drink like I had earlier, I usually stay wherever I am for at least a couple of hours, drinking water until my buzz wears off. In this case the alcohol felt like a blessing. I was dealing with a potentially loaded situation. I was wrestling with thoughts and memories that I had supposedly put behind me. The alcohol masked my nervousness, but was beginning to dull my resistance.

As I took my first sip of the white zinfandel, I stared right at Shelly, and she stared back. I wondered what she was thinking. I was thinking about Nina. She was probably home sleeping or waiting for me to call her when I finished up with the fellas. I wondered how she would feel knowing that her sister, who I had loved, and always would love in some kind of way, was sitting in my apartment.

I hoped that I was doing Nina a favor as I was preparing to break the news to Shelly for her. It had been obvious that she either wasn’t looking forward to it or was scared. As a matter of fact, it was apparent that she had been avoiding it. If there was nothing wrong with what we were doing, then why hadn’t we been open with Nina’s family? A baby and a wedding were supposed to be happy events that you share with your family. Instead, we were keeping it on the down low like a couple of adulterers. I had had enough of keeping secrets with Paula. It was time to come clean. And those were the exact words I said as I got out of the chair and sat down on the couch next to Shelly.