The Ugly Side of Me

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The Ugly Side of Me Page 9

by Nikita Lynnette Nichols


  “What the heck is going on here?” I barked.

  The expression on Malcolm’s face was priceless and a Kodak moment. His eyes were so wide open, he looked like a deer caught in the headlights. No one at the table spoke, including Malcolm. I kept my eyes focused on his.

  “Why did you blow me off?” My eyes were blazing.

  Malcolm was speechless; he didn’t know what to say. He tried to remember my name. “Hi. Um, um . . .”

  I was way past pissed. “Rhapsody, fool,” I snapped, reminding him.

  “Oh, yeah, yeah. Uh, Rhapsody, this is Sharonda and Leticia and—”

  “Screw Sharonda and Leticia!” I yelled.

  Both of the chicks’ mouths fell open. I dared either one of them to say a word to me, because I was ready to fight. I looked at the guy sitting across from Malcolm.

  “Are you Ivan?” I barked.

  He acted as though he was afraid to answer. He hesitated before he spoke. “Yeah.”

  “Well, screw you too,” I said.

  “Hold up, Rhapsody,” Malcolm said as he stood.

  “No, you hold up, Malcolm. Why did you blow me off?”

  By that time I had attracted a crowd of spectators.

  “What are you talkin’ about?”

  “You were supposed to come to my house this evening, remember?”

  “Rhapsody, I never agreed to come by. I said that I would get back to you.”

  “So, you couldn’t call and tell me that you weren’t coming? I cooked for you. Do you know how much it cost to make a freakin’ pan of lasagna?”

  Malcolm threw his hands in the air. “Look, I’m sorry you went through the trouble, but that ain’t my issue.”

  Now, why did he say that to me? It was at that exact moment when I realized Malcolm didn’t know whom he was messin’ with. I was too old of a cat to be scratched by a kitten.

  My eyebrows rose. “It ain’t your issue? How ’bout I give you an issue?”

  The bouncer was at my side. “Is there a problem here?”

  I kept my eyes focused on Malcolm’s as I answered, “Nah, ain’t no problem.”

  I gave Malcolm a stare that positively put fear in his heart. I could tell by the way his Adam’s apple moved when he swallowed. I just put something on his mind. With my mission accomplished, I left the club.

  Outside in the parking lot, I got my tire iron from my trunk and threw it at Malcolm’s rear window, and it shattered completely. Huggy Bear and a few more people saw what I had done, but I didn’t care. I was pissed beyond words. I got behind my wheel and burned rubber out of the parking lot.

  I was a nervous wreck while driving on the expressway. What did I just do? Some teenage high school crap was what it was. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined myself doing what I did. What was I thinking? I was a grown woman, which meant I was too old to behave that way. It was ridiculous.

  As I sped away, I kept looking in my rearview mirror for the police. There were witnesses; I knew someone saw my license plate. Tears started to stream down my face. I had met Malcolm only two days prior, and I tried to figure out how I had lost all my self-control and self-respect in such a short period of time. What if Malcolm pressed charges against me? How would I explain that to my parents?

  I was afraid to go home. What if the police were waiting for me there? I needed a hiding place for a few hours, so I headed for Anastasia’s house. I braced myself, knowing that she would cuss me out for showing up on her doorstep at 1:00 a.m. without calling first. My tears made it difficult for me to see clearly. I accidentally drove my Mercedes up on the curb right in front of her house, but I didn’t care. I left my car right where it was and put it in park. Ten seconds later, I was pressing Anastasia’s doorbell nonstop.

  Trevor yanked the door open, ready to light into whoever it was, until he recognized me and saw the distraught state I was in. “Rhapsody?”

  I was so emotional, I couldn’t say anything. I placed my face in my hands and sobbed loudly. The next thing I knew, I was in Trevor’s arms. “Calm down and tell me what happened. Did someone hurt you?”

  Anastasia appeared and put her hand on my lower back. The look on her face was one of horror. “What happened to her?” she asked Trevor.

  “I don’t know. She won’t say anything.”

  “Bring her into the living room, Trevor.”

  He guided me inside the house, helped me over to the sofa in the living room, and sat me down, then knelt before me. “Rhapsody, I need you to talk to me. Did someone hurt you?”

  I still couldn’t bring myself to say anything, but I shook my head from side to side. Anastasia sat on the sofa next to me. “Sis, you’re scaring me.”

  I managed to pull myself together. “I’m sorry, Stacy. I’m so sorry to come here like this.”

  She pulled me into her arms and held me tight. “It’s all right. Calm down. It’s gonna be all right.” She wiped my face with a Kleenex tissue Trevor had given her.

  “Is there anything I can do?” he asked Anastasia.

  “Help me get her to the guest room.”

  Trevor literally picked me up, carried me into the guest bedroom, and laid me down on the bed.

  “Thanks, baby,” I heard Anastasia say.

  “What else do you need?” he asked her.

  “Get a nightgown from my top dresser drawer and bring it to me.”

  When Trevor brought the nightgown to Anastasia, I heard Chantal crying.

  “Stay with Rhapsody. I got the baby,” Trevor said.

  Anastasia didn’t ask me any more questions. With Trevor out of the bedroom, she undressed me and slipped the nightgown over my head. She went into the bathroom to wet a small towel with warm water and washed my face clean of smeared black mascara and eyeliner. My best friend tucked me beneath the covers, then lay next to me and rocked me to sleep.

  Chapter 13

  “Aw, shoot,” Malcolm whined when he saw the damage to his window.

  Ivan stood in the parking lot, next to him. “Dude, you know who did this, right?”

  “That crazy broad. I don’t believe this, man. My mama is gonna kill me.”

  Huggy Bear approached Malcolm. “Dude, I saw who did this to your window. It was a woman. She drove away in a black Mercedes.”

  Malcolm nodded his head. “Yeah, I know who she is. Thanks, man.”

  A police car with bright blue neon lights flashing arrived on the scene.

  “Who called the police?” Ivan asked.

  Huggy Bear spoke. “I did. I didn’t know whose car this was.”

  A Latin policeman exited the squad car, removed his flashlight from the holster on his belt, and walked toward Malcolm, Ivan, and Huggy Bear. With his flashlight, the officer surveyed the damaged vehicle, then shined his flashlight in each of the three men’s faces.

  “Whose vehicle is this?” he asked.

  “It’s mine, Officer,” Malcolm answered.

  The officer moved his flashlight beam toward Malcolm. “Can I see your license and registration?”

  Malcolm gave the officer his identification from his wallet. He then reached inside the glove compartment for his insurance card and gave it to the officer.

  “What happened here?” the officer asked Malcolm as he examined the documents.

  “I came out of the club and saw my rear window like this. Somebody threw a tire iron through it.”

  “Do you have any idea who might have done it?”

  “No.”

  “What?” The question came from the mouths of Ivan and Huggy Bear.

  At the tone of their voices, the officer shined his flashlight in Ivan’s and Huggy Bear’s faces and studied their expressions before shining the light on Malcolm again. “You want to file a complaint?”

  “No, I don’t,” Malcolm answered.

  “You don’t?” Ivan asked with raised eyebrows.

  “Nah, man. I ain’t got time for that. I gotta get home,” Malcolm confessed.

  “It’ll take only
a few minutes,” the officer said.

  “Nah, that’s all right,” Malcolm answered. He was anxious to leave. “I gotta go.”

  “Hold on a second,” the officer said and walked back to his squad car with Malcolm’s identification.

  Malcolm shook Huggy Bear’s hand. “Thanks for your help, but I got it from here.”

  “No problem, man. Be cool.” Huggy Bear turned and walked away.

  With Huggy Bear out of hearing range, Ivan spoke to Malcolm. “What are you doing, fool? Why didn’t you turn her in?”

  “Because I don’t wanna make this any bigger than it is. I’ll get the window fixed in the morning. I’m done with Rhapsody, though. That’s for sure.”

  “Dude, tomorrow is Thursday. Don’t you take your mother to therapy every Tuesday and Thursday morning?”

  Malcolm hung his head. “Now what am I gonna do?”

  The officer was back at Malcolm’s side. “Who is Lucille Washington?”

  “She’s my mother. Why?”

  “When I ran the plates, it showed that this car is registered to her.”

  “Yeah, it’s in her name, but it’s my car.”

  “You’re not listed as a co-owner, and I can’t allow you to drive this car in the condition it’s in. Since she’s the sole owner, Lucille will have to be notified. And she has to call her insurance company to file a claim, but first, she has to get this car towed to an auto body shop.”

  Malcolm felt his whole world crashing down all around him. Allowing his mother to find out about this was not an option for him. “Officer, please, my mother can’t know about this.”

  “She’s being contacted right now.”

  As soon as Lucille disconnected the call from the police department, she dialed Malcolm’s cellular telephone.

  He knew it was her before he looked at the caller ID. He sighed before he answered. “Hey, Ma.”

  “What happened, Malcolm?”

  “Somebody threw a tire iron through the back window.”

  “You mean ‘some woman,’ don’t you?”

  His heart skipped two beats. “What?”

  “A man gave a statement that he saw a woman deliberately throw something through the window.”

  Malcolm looked around for Huggy Bear, but he was nowhere to be seen. “Ma, I don’t know anything about that.”

  “Uh-huh. I figured you would say that. Who’s with you?”

  “Ivan.”

  “I called AAA motor club,” Lucille stated. “You stay there until they tow my car. Then have Ivan drive you home.”

  Hours later Ivan and Malcolm sat in Ivan’s car outside of Lucille’s house. Malcolm looked at the front door of the home he shared with his mother.

  “Man, I don’t even wanna go in there. Ain’t no tellin’ what she’s got waiting for me on the other side of that door. She probably has the cast-iron skillet in her hand.”

  Ivan chuckled. He knew Lucille was very strict. “Yeah, you’re probably right. But seriously, Malcolm, you need to stay away from Rhapsody.”

  “I plan to. I just can’t believe this night. This is some wild crap.”

  “Yep,” Ivan agreed. “Like a fatal attraction. You better be careful. Rhapsody seems like the type of woman that lurks in bushes and trees, just waiting to jump out at you.”

  Lucille opened the front door and rolled her wheelchair onto the front porch. “Bring your narrow tail in this house, Malcolm!” she yelled.

  Ivan looked at her and chuckled. “Well, at least she ain’t got a skillet in her hand.”

  Chapter 14

  I woke up early Thursday morning to the voices of Anastasia and Trevor. Through the closed guest bedroom door, I could hear them moving around the house.

  “Did you get her to talk?” Trevor asked Anastasia.

  “No. She was too upset,” Anastasia answered. “It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was out like a light.”

  “I looked out of the living room window this morning and saw her car up on the curb, so I took her keys and parked it right,” I heard Trevor say.

  “I’m sure Rhapsody will thank you for that,” Anastasia said.

  “You couldn’t get anything out of her last night?”

  “Nope. Nothing. You want breakfast this morning?”

  “Nah. I’m running late as it is. I’m outta here.”

  Five minutes later, I heard the front door open and close. Soon after, Anastasia knocked lightly, then opened the door to the guest bedroom before poking her head inside. “Rhapsody?”

  “Good morning, Stacy,” I greeted softly.

  She smiled. “Oh, you’re awake. It’s almost seven. Are you going to work today?”

  I sat up on the bed and propped the pillows behind my back against the headboard. “Nah, I don’t think so. Would you get my cell from my purse? I need to call my boss.”

  “Of course,” she answered. “You left it on the sofa in the living room.” Anastasia left the guest bedroom and returned moments later with my purse. She gave it to me, then sat on the end of bed.

  I pulled my cell phone from my purse and dialed Mr. Duncan’s voice mail. “Good morning, Mr. Duncan. This is Rhapsody. I’m calling to let you know that I woke up with a migraine headache this morning and I can’t make it to work today.” I disconnected the call and laid the phone on the bed beside me.

  “You feel like talking about it?” Anastasia asked me.

  I looked at her. “What makes you think there’s something to talk about?”

  “Because I have never seen you like this before. And you’ve never rung my doorbell at one o’clock in the morning. Does this have anything to do with Malcolm?”

  “Humph,” I said. I sighed before adding, “It’s has everything to do with Malcolm.”

  “Did you two have a fight?”

  “No, not in the way you’re thinkin’, Stacy. I didn’t get a chance to tell you that Malcolm called Tuesday night to tell me the reason he couldn’t spend the night with me. Apparently, his mother is a paraplegic, and he has to be home early in the morning to help her out of bed. Then I apologized for leaving that bogus message on his cell phone.”

  Anastasia nodded her head. “Okay. That’s good. And?”

  I smiled seductively. “And we made up.”

  Anastasia rolled her eyes. “Spare me all the intimate details and fast-forward to last night.”

  “Yesterday I called Malcolm and invited him over. He said that he usually hangs with his boy, Ivan, on Wednesday nights. I told him that it was cool with me as long as he came by to see me first.”

  Chantal woke up crying, and Anastasia left the guest room. “Hold that thought,” she said over her shoulder.

  She returned with Chantal in her arms and sat down in the chair and pulled out a big black boob and shoved it in Chantal’s mouth. “Okay. Go ahead.”

  “Well, since it seems that the only thing Malcolm and I do is screw, I wanted to do something a little different than hop in the sack when he got to my house, so I decided to cook for him.”

  “You? Cook?” Anastasia joked.

  I chuckled. “I know, right? I had really planned to sit down at the kitchen table and talk over dinner so that we could get to know one another.”

  “Sounds okay so far. What happened?”

  “I finished cooking, took my bath, and lay across my bed to wait for him. I accidentally fell asleep and woke up at a quarter to twelve. I called his cell and didn’t get an answer.” I exhaled. “The bastard never showed up, Stacy. He left me hanging.”

  Stacy tucked the first boob in her bra and moved Chantal to her other arm, then pulled out the second boob and shoved it in her mouth. “Then what happened?”

  “I got pissed at the trouble I went through cooking for Malcolm, and then I realized that he told me where he and his boy were gonna be last night. So I threw the lasagna in the garbage and sliced up my brand-new silk sheets. Then I put on a jogging suit and drove to Mr. G’s Club on Eighty
-Seventh Street.”

  Anastasia shook her head vigorously from side to side, like she was trying to shake some words out of her brain. She frowned at me. “Hold up, Rhapsody. What did you say?”

  “I said I drove to Mr. G’s on Eighty-Seventh Street.”

  “Uh-uh. Before that,” she said.

  “I put on a jogging suit.”

  “Nope. Before that.”

  “I sliced up my silk sheets and threw the lasagna in the garbage?” I asked her, wondering if that was what she wanted to hear.

  Anastasia nodded her head, confirming that those were the words she had wanted me to repeat. “That’s what I thought you said. Why would you slice up your sheets and throw away your food?”

  “Because I was pissed, Stacy.”

  “So darn what? You don’t throw away food that you cooked, and you definitely don’t slice up your expensive sheets. Why did you let the crazy out?”

  As my best friend for so many years, Anastasia knew I suffered from Tourette’s syndrome. Oftentimes, for support, she’d gone with me to the appointments with Dr. Buckles. But Anastasia had told me more than once that she believed that I sometimes caused some of my own episodes.

  I didn’t answer Anastasia, because I knew she was right. I had purposely sought Malcolm out the night before and had put on a show.

  Anastasia tucked the second boob away, then laid Chantal on her shoulder, and began patting her back lightly. She rocked back and forth. “What happened when you got to Mr. G’s?”

  “I saw Malcolm and his boy sittin’ at a table near the back of the club. They were cheesing all up in some heifers’ faces. I walked over to the table and asked Malcolm why he stood me up.”

  “Oh, my God!” Anastasia said. “Please tell me you didn’t do that dumb crap, Rhapsody.”

  “I did. I cussed him out. And, as a matter of fact, I cussed everybody at the table out.”

  “For what?” Anastasia asked in a raised voice. I could tell that she was reprimanding me.

  “I told you that I was pissed.” That was my only defense.

  “Well, after you made a fool of yourself, what happened next?”

  “I was so loud that the bouncer came and asked me if there was a problem. I was causing a scene.”

 

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