“What?” I asked.
“I bet He’ll say, ‘Heck, yeah.’”
I laughed out loud again. “Audelia, that’s too funny. You ain’t changed a bit, girl. Listen, I need a favor,” I said.
“Okay.”
“My friend needs a job. Can you hook him up?”
“What’s his name, and how old is he?”
“His name is Malcolm Washington, and he’s twenty-one.”
“Humph. A friend, huh? What are you doing with a twenty-one-year-old male friend, Rhapsody?”
“I’m screwing him,” I answered boldly. Malcolm was still sitting on the sofa next to me. When he heard me say that, he looked at me with raised eyebrows.
Audelia hollered and then said, “Well, all righty then. He must be good.”
“Better than good,” I assured her.
“Okay, Demi Moore,” she said to me. “Go on with your bad self. Is he working now?”
“Yeah. He runs the Burger World joint in Maywood, but it doesn’t pay much. He needs something that pays at least eighteen bucks an hour.”
“You think he’ll be interested in driving the trains?”
“Will he make at least eighteen bucks an hour?”
“Oh yeah. Much more than that,” Audelia said.
“Then he’s interested.”
“Okay. Headquarters will be closed on Monday for the Fourth of July holiday. Have Malcolm come see me first thing Tuesday morning.”
“I sure will. Thanks, Audelia. I really appreciate this.”
“You’re welcome. You know there will be a background check done on Malcolm. He’s gotta be clean, because he’ll definitely have to drop some urine in a plastic cup. Drug tests are mandatory.”
“Got it,” I said to Audelia, and we said our good-byes. I disconnected the call, looked at Malcolm, then smiled. “You’re in.”
“For real? Just like that?”
“Just like that,” I said. “Of course, you’ll have to pass a drug test first.”
“I gotta have a needle stuck in my arm?”
I shook my head from side to side. “No, but you’ll have to pee in a cup, and that’ll show if there’s any drugs in your system.” I lowered my head and glared at Malcolm. “You’re clean, right?”
He nodded his head once. “I should be.”
I frowned. “Should be? What does that mean, Malcolm?”
“I haven’t smoked a joint in a while. I should be good.”
“Okay,” was all I said.
“When will that happen?”
“Next Tuesday morning at the CTA headquarters downtown, on Lake Street. Go to the tenth floor and ask for Audelia Alvarez-Costa. Make sure not to mention my name to no one. When you get to the receptionist, you don’t need to say, ‘Rhapsody Blue sent me.’ Just say that you have an appointment with Audelia. Got it?”
He nodded his head again. “Yep. So, what job am I going for?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. It depends on what the CTA is hiring for. Later you and I can look at their Web site and see what jobs are posted. If you see something you like, you can tell Audelia on Tuesday morning.”
“Why did you tell her that we’re screwing?”
I shrugged my shoulders again. “When she asked why I had a twenty-one-year-old friend, I didn’t see a reason to lie to her.”
Malcolm was literally under me when his cell phone rang after 10:30 p.m. I was in a deep sleep, with half my body on the bed and the other half on top of Malcolm. He felt how heavy I was when he had to push my torso aside to reach for his cell phone on the nightstand.
“This is Malcolm,” he answered sleepily.
“Where you at, fool?” Ivan asked.
“I’m at Rhapsody’s house.”
“You sound like you were asleep.”
“I was,” Malcolm said.
“But the night is young. I’m at the Fifty-Yard Line. Why don’t you come through?”
“Nah, man. I can’t get up.”
“Come on, fool. What do you mean, you can’t get up? You ain’t that tired.”
Malcolm raised his head from the pillow and glanced down at my thigh draped across his waist. He tried to move it, but to no avail. “Ivan, believe me when I tell you that I really can’t get up. I’m on lockdown.”
Chapter 23
The following Saturday morning my mother called my house before the sun was up.
“Are you still in the bed?” she asked me.
I rolled off of Malcolm to lie on my back. “Ma, it’s still dark outside,” I moaned sleepily.
“It’s Saturday, Rhapsody.”
“I know that, Ma,” I said sleepily.
“The new Filene’s Basement store opens in Schaumburg today. They’re having a grand opening sale from seven to noon.”
“Thanks for telling me, Ma, but I don’t need anything from Filene’s Basement. If I need anything, I’ll come to your basement.”
Even though I was talking as low as I possibly could, Malcolm stirred and got up to go to the bathroom.
“Rhapsody, get up and get dressed. And then come and pick me up,” Lerlean demanded.
“Come and pick you up for what, Ma?”
“To take me to the mall. Ain’t you listening to what I’m sayin’?”
I heard the toilet flush, followed by water running in the bathroom sink. Malcolm came back to bed and snuggled up next to me. “Ma, I’m tired.”
“From what?” she asked, like I didn’t have a life.
From screwing all night long. “Just tired.”
“Well, I was tired, too, thirty-four years ago, when I had to push your big head out, but I did what I had to do to bring you into this world. I had stitches all the way from my vajayjay to my butthole, but I guess you don’t appreciate that.”
I rolled my eyes.
“That’s all right,” she continued. “You know I don’t wanna let your father take me to the mall. He’ll bug the mess out of me, saying he’s ready to go ten minutes after we get there. You know what? Don’t even worry about it. I’ll just call a taxicab.”
I exhaled as loudly as I could into her ear. I hated that my mother had never learned to drive. She absolutely refused to get behind the wheel of a car. She once told me that at the age of sixteen she had witnessed a head-on collision. From that moment on, my mother had vowed never to operate a vehicle.
I sighed loudly. “I’m on my way, Ma.”
I disconnected the call and threw the telephone down on the bed. Malcolm moved close to me and began nuzzling my neck and fondling my breasts. “What’s wrong?”
I didn’t answer him. I just moaned at the pleasure he was giving me, but I didn’t have time to let him satisfy me, because I had to take Lerlean shopping. I pried Malcolm’s fingers away and went to start the water in the shower. I swear, my mother could dry up a wet dream.
Don’t get it twisted. I loved my mother with all that was within me. But she was the type of woman who loved to window-shop without a dime in her purse. I was the exact opposite: I didn’t enter a mall unless I had some serious money. Window-shopping pissed me off because I saw so much stuff that I wanted but couldn’t afford. Lerlean, on the other hand, would be at the mall when the security guard opened the doors, and then she’d close it down and walk out with only a pair of ten-dollar panty hose. That was what she called mother and daughter quality time. But I’d rather be at home, in my bed, lying on my back, with my thighs wrapped around Malcolm’s waist.
It was hard for me to leave him that morning. I could sense within myself that I was becoming addicted to Malcolm. I couldn’t say for sure if I was in love with him, but I did know for a fact that I was very much into him. If I were honest with myself, I’d realize that I was addicted the first time we did the nasty. I wondered what Malcolm’s response would be if I asked him to marry me. I was so sprung that I was willing to let him quit his job and stay home as long as he was naked when I walked in the front door every evening. Malcolm wouldn’t have to co
ok, clean, do laundry, or pay bills. The only chore he would have was to lay pipe. Humph, Malcolm didn’t know how good he could have it.
“What do you think of this blouse, Rhapsody?” Lerlean asked. She held up a taupe-colored blouse that tied on the side for a sarong look.
“It’s okay, but I prefer the lilac one,” I said.
“I’m gonna try them both on.” She took both blouses and went to search for the fitting room.
See, that was what I was talking about. The blouses were exactly alike, just two different colors. There was no need to try on both. Heck, if one was too big or too small, then so was the other.
I followed my mother and found a seat right outside the fitting room. I crossed my right leg over my left knee and got comfortable, ’cause I knew I’d be at Filene’s Basement for a long while. Lerlean was trying on her first two items, and it was 7:15 a.m. And that meant I had at least another five hours of her modeling everything in the store to look forward to.
As I looked around Filene’s Basement, I noticed that my mother and I were the only black women shopping there. A woman walked into the fitting room, carrying the same blouse Lerlean was trying on, but hers was in a different color than the two Lerlean had. In the woman’s hand was a Carson Pirie Scott & Co. bag, a Lord & Taylor bag, a DSW bag, and a Neiman Marcus bag. I checked my watch. Unless those stores opened earlier than 7:00 a.m., the woman was a helluva shopper. If Daniel could see the woman and all her bags, he wouldn’t sweat me so much about spending money.
Lerlean came out of the fitting room and stood in front of me, wearing the lilac blouse.
“Well, what do you think?” She turned all the way around to show me every angle.
“It’s cute, Ma. I like that color on you.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh. That light shade of purple makes your skin glow.”
“This blouse comes in turquoise too,” she said.
“Yeah, I just saw a lady go into the fitting room with a turquoise-colored blouse. I bet those blouses would look cute with a pair of white Capri pants,” I said.
“I bet they would too. It would be nice to have an outfit like this to take on the cruise you and your brothers are sending me and your father on.”
And let the begging begin. Here we go. As usual, Lerlean tried on clothes and fell in love with them without a dime in her pocket. Normally, it would be up to me to keep her from pouting for the next five hours. But I had a surprise for my mother that day. Because of Malcolm’s new ride, I didn’t have an extra dime in my pocket. So I sat there and didn’t say a word while she tried on nine more different outfits. And she modeled every one of them for me.
“Ooh, I can wear this to the captain’s dinner,” she said when she modeled a floor-length tropical sundress. “Ooh, this would look pretty when we go into the village to shop,” she said when she modeled a yellow halter top paired with blue jean Capri pants. “Ooh, I can lounge around the pool in this number,” she said when she modeled a black-and-gold swimsuit. “Ooh, your father would rape me if he saw me in this negligee,” I heard her yell out at me from the fitting room. “But, oh, well, I guess I can’t take anything new on my cruise. It sure would be nice to have at least one pretty outfit,” I also heard her say from the fitting room.
Next thing I knew, with my checkbook in my hand, I was standing in line with Lerlean and all nine outfits that she had tried on. She was my mama. What was I supposed to do? I planned to make a trip to my credit union the next morning to make a withdrawal from my savings account. I would deposit the money in my checking account to cover the check I was writing today. Or I could summon Willie Boston up to my office for another dip.
Saturday afternoon my father was sitting on the front porch when I parked my car next to the curb. I got out of the car and retrieved my mother’s bags from the trunk. Lerlean got out of the passenger seat. Then she and I walked toward the house that my parents had owned since before I was born.
“Hey, Daddy,” I greeted when my mother and I reached the porch steps.
“I see you and your mama been out spending my retirement money again.”
“What money you got?” Lerlean asked him.
“I got all kinds of money,” he stated firmly.
“Well, I ain’t seen none of it. You must be givin’ it to your hoes.”
My mouth dropped open. “Ma, I can’t believe you said that.”
“You don’t hear half the stuff she be sayin’ to me,” my father said. “Her mouth is so bad, she cusses in her sleep.”
I had to laugh at that, because I knew he wasn’t fabricating anything. My mother had a mouth on her, and she would let her tongue loose at any given moment. And I had to admit that I was definitely Lerlean’s daughter. I had it honest. I was the heir to her bitter tongue.
I chuckled. “For real, Daddy? What do she say in her sleep?”
“She be sayin’, ‘Hell, damn, shit.’”
Lerlean got angry. She placed all her weight on her right leg; then she put her right hand on her right hip. My mother looked directly into my eyes and said, “Nah, that ain’t what I say. I’ll tell you what I be sayin’ in my sleep, Rhapsody. I say, ‘I wish this old bastard would get off his rusty butt and find a freakin’ job. I’m sick of him hangin’ around this damn house, buggin’ the freak out of me. And I need a damn dishwasher, ’cause I’m tired of washin’ the damn dishes. Every time I ask this bastard to do somethin’, he claims his back hurts. If the bastard don’t start helpin’ me around this damn house, I’ma leave his butt here all by his damn self.’” Then she looked at my father and said, “That’s what I be sayin’ in my sleep. And if you’re gonna quote me, quote me right.”
My chin was on the ground. I was actually in awe of my mother’s skills. She was a professional cusser, and I had inherited her tongue. I wanted to give her a round of applause, but I knew that would only offend my father.
“You see what I’m talkin’ ’bout?” my father asked me. “And she got the nerve to sit in church every Sunday like she’s saved, sanctified, and full of the Holy Ghost.” He looked at my mother. “With a mouth like the one you got, God don’t hear your prayers.”
Lerlean’s neck rotated when she spoke to him. “Well, He ain’t gotta hear all of ’em, just the one when I ask Him to make yo’ behind disappear.” She took her bags from my hands. “Now see what you did, James? You done took me out of my anointin’. Now I gotta go in the house and get back right with the Lord. Come on in here,” she said to him as she ascended the porch steps. “We gotta start packing for our honeymoon.”
Lerlean went inside the house and left me and my father alone. Daddy could do nothing but shake his head from side to side.
I smiled at him. “You love it, don’t you?”
“After all these years, she still does it for me.”
I kissed my father’s cheek and left.
I drove into my driveway and was upset because Malcolm’s truck was gone. The mauve-colored carpet in the living room had just been vacuumed. I could tell by the zigzag lines. In my bedroom I saw that he’d made the bed nice and neat. My shower walls were wet, and I could still smell Dove soap. In the kitchen every dish from last night had been washed and was drying upside down in the dish rack. Malcolm was different from my father. That was for sure. I sat down at the kitchen table and called his cellular telephone.
“Where are you?” I asked when he answered.
“I’m at work.”
“You didn’t say you had to work today.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t have to work, either.”
“Are you gettin’ smart with me?”
“What if I am? What are you gonna do about it?”
“I might just drive to Burger World and whup your tail,” I said jokingly.
“Well, come on, if you’re bad enough, but you know you can’t handle this.”
“I can handle you.”
“Humph. Not according to last night. Remember how you were complaining? ‘Hurry
up, Malcolm. I’m tired. My leg is cramping up,’” he teased me.
I laughed out loud. Malcolm was thirteen years my junior, and he reminded me of that every time we slept together. His stamina and longevity gave me a run for my money. “You think you’re all that, don’t you?”
“That’s what you tell me.”
“We’ll see who whines tonight.”
“It won’t be me, that’s for sure,” Malcolm said in a matter-of-fact tone.
“What time are you off?”
“Seven o’clock tonight.”
“Okay. I’ll see you then.”
I disconnected the call with Malcolm and dialed Anastasia’s home number. Trevor answered on the first ring.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Trevor. It’s Rhapsody.”
“Hi. How are you doing?”
I hadn’t had a chance to thank Trevor for what he did for me when I came to their house in the middle of the night, after I showed my behind at Mr. G’s Club. It would have been awkward to bring up the subject during Chantal’s christening at church. “Much better. I wanna thank you for taking care of me last week, Trevor. I really appreciate it.”
“Rhapsody, you don’t have to thank me for that. You and Stacy are like sisters. It’s my job to take care of both of you.”
When Trevor mentioned me and Anastasia being like sisters, I remembered how she had undressed me and washed my face, then had rocked me to sleep that night. “Yeah, we are sisters. Is she home?”
“Yeah. Hang on a second.”
I heard him call Anastasia’s name, and I could also hear Chantal having a fit about something.
“Hey, girl. What’s up?” Anastasia asked. She sounded like she was out of breath.
“You tell me what’s up. Why is my goddaughter hollerin’ at the top of her lungs?”
“Because I’m tryin’ to wean her off my boobs. She’s hungry, but she doesn’t wanna take the bottle.”
“She’s only four months old, Stacy. Why are you weaning her this soon?”
The Ugly Side of Me Page 14