Boss Lady by Omar Tyree Page A

thinking like that. I’m just trying to help you with whatever you need help with.”
    See what I mean? That explanation doesn’t add up. Nobody does something for nothing. If they did, then why would they make a choice about whom they would do something for? I had been an excellent student my entire life. I didn’t need the extra help. But I knew plenty of girls who didn’t look like me who did, and they didn’t get offered help for anything, unless they had a “friend” of their own. Sometimes not even then would they get help.
    Like I said, maybe I was reading too much into things, but my understanding of the situation was not helping me to become comfortable with dating.
    My cousin, on the other hand, had all the experience in the world in the men department. So when she walked back out of the kitchen with a can of Sprite in her hand, and was already off the cell phone with her friend, I was curious as to what happened with him.
    â€œYou hung up on him already? Is he coming over? I need to go upstairs now?”
    Tracy shook her head and said, “You’re moving too fast, girl. You need to pump the brakes.”
    â€œI’m saying, you walk out one minute talking and you walk back in the next and it’s over with,” I told her.
    â€œHe was just saying hi, which is still too much information for you,” my cousin told me. She retook her seat on the sofa.
    I asked her, “Do you ever think about getting married and having kids now?”
    Tracy looked at me and tried to decipher where my sudden question had come from.
    â€œIs that a requirement in being a woman?” she asked me back. “You’re in college now? You tell me?”
    I said, “No, but it is a part of life, and people expect it, especially when you look good.”
    â€œWell, I expected you to have a real boyfriend by now, but that hasn’t happened either.”
    She was right, I had none.
    I grinned and said, “I have plenty of time for that.”
    â€œSo you’re not in a rush then?” she asked me.
    â€œNot at all.”
    â€œWell, why should I be?”
    It was a set-up question.
    I said, “Because . . .”
    I didn’t want to be too bold about it, but my cousin was asking me for it?
    â€œWhat, I’m getting old and running out of time?” she assumed.
    I grinned at her and ate my last spoonful of strawberry ice cream.
    â€œThey’re your words, not mine,” I told her.
    â€œYeah, but they are your thoughts.”
    â€œI mean, people want to know,” I leveled with her. Readers were even asking her the husband-and-kids question through emails on her website.
    â€œPeople also want to know when they can win the lottery,” my cousin joked.
    â€œWhatever.”
    We continued to watch Entertainment Tonight on the television in silence for a minute. They were doing a report on the success and the wealth of the Olsen twins, who were syndicated with reruns of Full House on cable. Since Full House, Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen had grown into teenagers, and they had made a fortune on straight-to-video movies as well as a gang of products that young American girls were going crazy for.
    â€œThey don’t have to work another day in their lives if they don’t want to,” Tracy commented with a sip of her Sprite.
    That only got me started again.
    I said, “You’d be in the same position if you made a whole line of Flyy Girl products.”
    Tracy stopped and stared at me.
    â€œWould you let it go?” she asked me. “It’ll happen when it’s supposed to happen.”
    â€œAnd when is that?”
    I just couldn’t control my mouth about it. I didn’t even mean to say that.
    Tracy shook her head for the last time and didn’t say another word to me that night.
    *  *  *
    When we walked up to bed and went our separate ways to our rooms, I decided to keep my comments to