Urban Nights- Saint & Narlei

by Mercy B

  “I know. When I’m able to afford some insurance, then I will see to finding a good doctor. Until then, I just have to keep pushing. Is it alright if I clock out?”

  “Not at all. I’ll cover Juicy’s shift. We’re closing at seven, and that’s not too much longer. You need me to get you a cab or something? I don’t want you walking home and you’re in pain.”

  “I live up the street, Mielle. Thanks, but I will be just fine.”

  “You sure? I’ll pay for it.”

  “I’m positive. Again, thank you!” Narlei twirled on her heels and headed for the clock.

  Suddenly, a rush of adrenaline laced her limbs. Excitement and uncertainty overshadowed the pain she’d felt in her back. She wasn’t sure who the hell Saint was, but she had every intention of finding out once she got to Juicy’s. There wasn’t a nigga in Southside that Juicy wasn’t aware of.

  Narlei was certain that her girl would give her the information she needed to determine if she should even entertain the idea of a date with him. Juicy was as real as they came, so Narlei wouldn’t get the watered-down version of who he was. She would get an entire earful. That was fine by her because she was genuinely interested. Catcalls and phone number requests were common with the entire hood visiting Supper every now and again, but she’d ignored every single one. Unfortunately, Saint didn’t give her the same pass when he graced her presence.

  Two

  Needle pushers, pipe smokers, blunt rollers, and any other person you could think of graced the courts of the Southside projects. With her purse clutched tightly underneath her arm, Narlei made her way to Juicy’s unit where she knew she’d find her best friend – not preparing for work as she should be. The entire hood loved baby girl, and she brought many customers to Supper. It was the only reason she hadn’t been let go. She practically ran the place alongside Mielle. Some customers only came in during her shift. They were obsessed with her hospitality, ability to entertain, and hold an intriguing conversation.

  “Evening Momma Mercer,” Narlei greeted the matriarch of Southside.

  She was an OG, having raised all of her grandchildren, beat cancer and was still alive to watch her great-grandchildren grow. It was a beautiful sight, seeing she and her husband still going strong. It gave others in the hood hope. Narlei prayed Momma Mercer didn’t move until she left, because seeing her grandsons come by every day was a highlight. They were all a sight for sore eyes. Even her granddaughter’s husband was a joy to watch from afar.

  “How you doing, baby? If you’re looking for that girl of yours, she’s been on my couch watching from the living room since we finished up here. Juicy said she had an emergency,” She greeted, taking Narlei by surprise.

  Narlei had assumed Juicy was calling in as she did occasionally, but the fact that she left Ainsley with their neighbor let her know that there was something more to the story. Instead of continuing toward Juicy’s unit, she stepped onto the small porch that Momma Mercer sat on, sipping a cup of lemonade. A sign and a small table sat behind her.

  “She saved you a cup, too. It’s in there in the fridge.”

  “A cup?”

  “Yeah, we were bored and set us up a lemonade stand. She sold out in the first few minutes and then had to replenish. She made sure to save you a cup, though.”

  “Really?” Narlei asked with a heart of glee.

  “Yea. Ainsley. She’s something special. Reminds me of my Laitleigh. The minute you’re able, get her out of here. I’d hate for Southside to tarnish her little soul. She’s a bright light and I don’t want to see it dimmed. Not for anyone. Not for anything. So, when you get on your feet, you get out of here. Run the other way and never look back. Ain’t nothing for you beyond those gates over there,” Momma Mercer paused to reach into the pocket of her loose, stretchy jeans, “Here. She said she wanted me to give it all to you.”

  A wad of rolled dollars – similar to the one that Saint had given her – was filled with ones and a few fives. Narlei couldn’t believe the sudden overflow of cash that she was receiving. There hadn’t been a day she could remember since Angelo’s passing that she had money at her leisure. She always accounted for every dollar.

  “Sh- She made this?”

  “Yes, child. The girl charged $2 for her lemonade instead of $1. The trick was adding her name to the cup with a permanent marker. Apparently, you have a little entrepreneur on your hands,” Momma Mercer beamed.

  “Oh, my God. She is truly my child. If you don’t mind, I’m going to head inside to get her and try some of her famous lemonade.”

  “Go right ahead. I’m sure she is at the door waiting on you, by now. That is eighty dollars. My sons came by and gave her a little more than $2 for their cups,” she informed Narlei.

  “Tell them I am so grateful for their generosity.”

  As Narlei walked inside of the cozy home, she wanted to fall onto the nearest couch and take a nap. The air was kicking and the dimness of the living area made it comforting. It reminded her of her grandmother’s home, where she’d lived as a child.

  “Mommy!” Ainsley rushed toward her mother with the lemonade she’d saved her in her hand. Careful not to spill it, she handed Narlei the large cup and begged her to try it. “Taste it. I made it just like you!”

  On many occasions when there were little resources in their home and huge desires, Narlei made do with what she had. There had been a few times she used lemons, water and their last pack of lemonade Kool-Aid to make them a day’s worth of sweetness to drink. Knowing that Ainsley loved being in the kitchen and helping out, she’d employ her to assist in the gathering of material and stirring after they poured everything in. Fortunately, those lessons had paid off.

  “Ummmmmm,” she hummed, tasting the delicious treat. The walk in the hot sun made it even more enjoyable. “So good, Ainsley. Are your things packed? We should get going.”

  “Everything is over by the door. Are we going home, mom?” Ainsley was the spitting image of her father. She had his dark skin, coiled hair, and chinked eyes.

  “First, we’re going to walk up the street to mommy’s bank and then we will go home for a bit. After that, hopefully, Juicy is back so we can go to the store to get mommy something nice to wear. You’ll get something, too.”

  Narlei held her lemonade in her hand while grabbing Ainsley’s bag from the side of the front door. The two headed back onto the porch where Momma Mercer was seated. She was still enjoying her cup of lemonade, waving at a few of the people who walked past her.

  “Really, mom?”

  “Yes, baby. Thank you so much. If you see Juicy come home, please tell her I’m looking for her. I hope everything is okay.”

  “I’m sure she’s fine. If you ever need someone to keep Ainsley for you, my doors are open. My great-grandchildren are here on most days. She’d fit right in. Don’t hesitate if you need me.”

  The thought of Juicy not being home and possibly not coming back soon dampened Narlei’s spirit. She couldn’t get the information she needed and the possibility of her watching Ainsley while she went to dinner was slim. Deciding that keeping quiet was probably not the best option, before stepping off the porch, she summoned answers from the wisest woman she’d run into since moving to Southside.

  “Momma Mercer, are you familiar with a man by the name of Saint?” Ainsley held onto her mother’s hand as they stood at the edge of the porch.

  “May I ask why?” Momma Mercer questioned. Placing the cup of lemonade on the table behind her.

  Shifting her weight and switching the arm she held the bag in, Narlei nervously replied, “Well, he asked me on a date, tonight, and I’d like to know what kind of man he is before I agree.”

  “Before you agree? Baby, I doubt if Saint asked. He’s not a man that asks much. He’s a friend of my ole knotty-headed boys. He’s not around much. Keeps to himself and stays out of trouble. Raised well and helps anyone he can. It isn’t my decision to make, but I think you’d be just fine in his care. Who’s getting the
baby?” She nodded toward Ainsley.

  “I had Juicy in mind, but she’s not home. He said it’s alright if she tags along, so I think I’ll just get her dressed up so she can come with me.”

  “Have you lost every marble the good Lord has given you? A date is no place for a child, especially not a first date.”

  “Like you said, he didn’t quite ask.”

  “Ummm. Hmmm. Well, you can drop that bag in there beside the door. Your daughter is safe right here until you return. I’m sure Juicy will be back by nightfall. I will send her over the minute she returns if that makes you more comfortable.”

  “Really?” It seemed to be the most common word in her and Ainsley’s vocabulary.

  “I don’t let anything come out of my mouth. If I say it, then I mean it. Now, put that bag back and go handle your business. We’re going to make us some more lemonade. I’m sure these heathens are thirsty, again.”

  “Ainsley, are you okay with staying a few hours?”

  Narlei had learned a few things since moving to Southside and one was that Momma Mercer and the Mercers were great people. They minded their own business and kept to themselves. One wouldn’t be able to tell that they were from Southern Heights. Their grandmother had raised them well. Trusting anyone with her daughter was difficult. Only Juicy could to spend time alone with her since she couldn’t afford a full-time daycare. Juicy saw Ainsley as her own. If she was okay with leaving Ainsley with Momma Mercer, it assured Narlei that she had nothing to worry about.

  “Yes. Please. We wanted to make more lemonade, but Momma Mercer said that we needed to get cleaned up before you came to get me. TT Juicy told her when you would be here.” Ainsley fidgeted, impatiently, beside her mother.

  “Okay. Take your bag back inside.” Following directions, Ainsley ran inside.

  “Can you give me your number? I have this phone here,” Narlei spoke as she began fumbling with the cell that was in her apron pocket, “that I want to call you from so we can both be sure to have a number on each other in case anything happens.”

  “Juicy said you didn’t have a phone. Gave me the number to your job.”

  “I don’t. This is Saint’s phone. He gave it to me after finding out that I don’t have one.”

  “Sounds like something that boy would do,” Momma Mercer chuckled, removing the cordless phone she’d gotten a few weeks prior from her hip and pressed a few keys. The phone in Narlei’s hand began vibrating.

  Momma Mercer popped up across the screen causing Narlei to smile as she nodded. He had the Mercers’ residence number already programmed in his phone. How convenient? She thought, placing the phone back into her apron.

  “He comes to dinner once a month when I have oxtails. The day before, I call him to let him know.” Every day, the Mercers sat down as a family to eat.

  Narlei’s heart swelled. Anyone connected to the Mercers – by choice – were good people. “I wonder why I’ve never seen him.”

  “Because you’re always in that house. That’s a good thing. Everything happens according to plan and for a reason. Now, get on out of here. That baby will be fine. Call me if you get worried. I’ll have Juicy call you on that phone when she makes it home.”

  “Okay. Again, thanks.” Narlei eased from the porch.

  “You’re welcome, sweetie.”

  Three

  At precisely seven, Narlei received a thunderous knock on her door. She’d been home for almost an hour but hadn’t been expecting anyone. Pulling one of Angelo’s old shirts over her head, she hurried to the door to see who was insisting on her company. Saint hadn’t called since she spoke with him earlier, but she knew that it couldn’t have been him. They were scheduled to see one another at eight.

  “Juicy?” Narlei belted, seeing her best friend standing at her door.

  “Yes, bitch. Who the fuck else would it have been? The nigga you plan on putting Ainsley off on me for?” She joked.

  “Oh, don’t start. You’re the one always insisting that I find someone to entertain me instead of staying in the house all the time. How’d you know I was going on a date, anyway?” Narlei stood to the side and let her friend in.

  Her nickname wasn’t Juicy for any old reason. Baby girl was stacked. Her hair was a bold red, matching her light, bright skin, and the loud colors that she loved to rock on a daily basis. Juicy was the definition of ghetto but owned a heart of pure gold. She was a joy to have in your life, which is why Southside couldn’t get enough of her.

  “Mrs. Lora told me.” Juicy barged in.

  “Who the hell is Mrs. Lora and why she all up in my business?” Narlei wasn’t sure who had gotten the news that she was going on a date but she wasn’t happy about it.

  “Momma Mercer. Her name is Lora, girl. Calm down. What she didn’t tell me was who you were going on a date with, so don’t spare me any details. Get to singing, bitch.”

  Juicy was no stranger to Narlei’s home. She was over nearly every day. It didn’t surprise her one bit when her best friend made her way to the fridge and retrieved a cooler to sip on. She popped the top, closed the door, and leaned against it, waiting for Narlei to spill the beans.

  “Cause, I need to know if he’s a clown, or if the nigga is worth your time,” Juicy continued before placing the bottle to her mouth and sipping.

  “Saint.”

  The contents of Juicy’s mouth came flying out. The peach cooler that she had just poured into her mouth was on the floor before she could even swallow any. A burning sensation caused her to squeeze her nose as she tapped her feet on the ground to lessen the pain. Juicy sat her cooler on the counter beside the fridge and attempted to catch her breath while coughing up a lung, almost.

  “Are you alright?” Narlei cringed. “And, why is there a print around your neck?”

  As Juicy leaned forward to catch her breath, Narlei caught the mark around her neck and scratches just above. Juicy was always into some shit, so she wasn’t sure what she had gotten into, but it was obvious that it was a physical altercation.

  “We can worry about that shit later. After you tell me how the fuck you snagged Saint’s mean ass. That nigga damn near mute if you ask anybody in the hood. It took him two years to warm up to me and all the nigga do is nod when he sees me, to this day,” Juicy informed her friend.

  “He came into Supper.”

  “Figured.” She nodded, grabbing a paper towel from the rack.

  “And tried hollering. He asked for my number, but I told him that wouldn’t be possible because I didn’t have a cell. I thought he’d leave it alone and to think I was kidding like all the other guys that come through, but he saw right through my ass. Handed me everything in his pocket except a hundred that he kept for himself.”

  “A nigga like that refuses to walk around with an empty pocket. No matter the fuck what! Anyway, continue.” Juicy twirled her hand in the air and began cleaning the mess she’d made with a watered paper towel.

  “I wasn’t going to take the money but he wouldn’t take it back. That left me no choice. Of course, I wasn’t going to leave it on the counter for someone else to get, so I took it. It was just something about him that made me want to listen. Made me want to follow his every command. I don’t know. It was strange. And, he didn’t leave without giving me his cellphone. Told me if someone calls to answer it would save him the hassle of telling all the girls that he’s taken.” Narlei blushed.

  “You’re lying, bitch!”

  “No, I’m serious. His phone is in there on my bed. In fact, I need to be in there, too. I have to get dressed. Do you think you can do my makeup before I go?”

  “Hoe, is that even a real question? Of course, Juicy got you, boo!” Juicy danced in place before following Narlei to her bedroom. The two gathered around her bed where she had the clothing that she purchased from Southside Galleria an hour ago. She couldn’t decide which to wear, so she laid them all out.

  “Which one do you…”

  “This one!” Juicy interjected, pi
cking up the floral romper.

  “I’m sure it will compliment that ass you’re always attempting to hide.”

  “What ass?” Narlei tittered.

  “Don’t play, bitch. You know you’re holding. Don’t let me remind you. Damn shirt won’t even come all the way down because that ass too fat back there!” Juicy joked. “You want one of these coolers to take the edge off?”

  “Yeah. No lie, friend. I’m nervous as hell.”

  “I can see that, but you’ve got this.” She encouraged Narlei. “I’ll be right back!”

  “Well, damn!” Juicy stepped back to admire her handy work.

  Narlei was given the opportunity to stare into the mirror that was in front of her once she moved. A sly smile tugged at her lips. Juicy had listened for once and kept things light and natural. She didn’t want to leave the house looking like a clown in dramatic makeup, so the small hints would be perfect for the night she had in mind.

  “Do you think he’s will stand me up? He hasn’t even called to find out where I live and it is five minutes to eight.” Narlei grew a bit more nervous with each passing second. At any minute, she felt as if she’d explode.

  “Trust me. That nigga is coming. The minute he left, he began his research. He knows where you live. What apartment and everything else there is to know about your boring ass.”

  “There isn’t anything to know about me,” Narlei confirmed, sliding into the romper that Juicy had chosen.

  There were a pair of nude heels that matched every option that she’d picked up from the mall. After rubbing her ankles with the body butter she’d created to keep her skin in top shape, she slid into the sandals. A knock at the door drew both of their attention towards the living room, which could be seen from Narlei’s bedroom.

  “See. What did I tell you?” Juicy cheered, picking up the empty cooler bottles and heading for the trash.