B-Careful

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B-Careful Page 17

by Shannon Holmes


  “Listen, whatever your name is, this ain’t cool callin’ no other chick about some nigga who don’t wanna be wit’ you. Get a grip...” Netta commented.

  Sonya listened intently to Netta, resisting the urge to pump her for information, the what’s, the where’s and the how’s.

  She continued. “...For however long y’all were together, I wasn’t in the picture. I don’t know what was happenin’ wit’ y’all, if things were workin’ out or not. That’s not my business. But what I do know is this, girlfriend, if you were on your job, I couldn’t exist. If you was keepin’ ya man happy, then there is no me. So before you point the finger at me, you need to take a long hard look at yourself. You shouldn’t be callin’ me or callin’ yaself trying to check me. You shouldn’t have a problem with me, not personally. You don’t know me to like me or dislike me. I have no beef with you.”

  Each word that Netta spoke seemed to pierce Sonya’s heart and lodged inside her brain. She was giving her food for thought. Netta was trying to be more real than harsh with this stranger. It was time for the woman on the other end of the line to face the fact that her relationship was over. Sonya and Tone were a thing of the past.

  But she sensed Sonya wasn’t going out without a fight of some sort.

  Netta continued, “The way you make it sound like is, I took ya man. Well, I didn’t take anything. He chose me. So my advice to you is, see him about that. Seems like one of y’all got some explainin’ to do.”

  Sonya mulled over everything Netta was saying. But instead of taking some sort of responsibility for her role in their breakup, she laid the blame solely on Netta. She believed that Netta posed the only threat to her relationship. So being angry with her was easy. She thought her and Tone had had a wonderful relationship. However, it had changed drastically in the year that Tone had arrived in Baltimore.

  “Listen, bitch. You not nuttin’ but a hoe!” Sonya exclaimed. “I know all about you and the fuckin’ Pussy Pound. Y’all bitches ain’t nuttin’ but some gold diggin’ hoes.....”

  Entertaining the call was a mistake, Netta knew that. However, it had been an impulsive, emotional response. All the back and forth was giving her a migraine headache, which she hadn’t experienced in a few days. Now she regretted trying to reason with Sonya.

  “Oh, was that suppose hurt my feelings,” Netta replied. “Well, it don’t! Listen little girl. Stop runnin’ around like you got something. You might know my name, but you don’t know my story. The shit I been through would break a weak bitch like you.”

  “Who you callin’ a bitch? Bitch!” Sonya argued. “I will come up to that hospital right now and fuck you up.”

  “Come on. Bring ya bad ass up here,” Netta suggested. “Ain’t nuttin’ between me and you but air and yo fear. Listen, you better do yaself a favor and ask about me. I might have a pussy, but I ain’t never been no pussy. See, the problem is bitches like you ain’t never ran into a bitch like me. Cause if you had you wouldn’t be runnin’ ya mouth so crazy.”

  Netta’s tone of voice oozed with confidence. There was something fierce about her that even over the phone, Sonya could tell. There was something about her that commanded respect. She had just let Sonya know she was prepared to take their verbal altercation wherever it had to go.

  “Whenever you feel like gettin’ beat up, bring ya ass up here. You know my name, have the security guard give you my room number. I’m not wit’ all this arguin’ shit. I’d rather talk wit’ my hands. Now, enjoy ya day little girl. Stay the fuck off this phone. Bye!”

  Netta slammed down the receiver of the phone before Sonya could get another word in. She almost felt sorry for Sonya. Almost. To Netta it was a sad situation. But it was life, someone had to win and someone had to lose.

  Needless to say, after their phone call Netta lost all respect for Sonya. All she knew was she would never react like this, under no circumstance. The day a man didn’t want her would be the same day she didn’t want that man. She didn’t care who it was. There was no way she was staying in a situation where she wasn’t wanted.

  Rrrrriiiiinnnnnnggggg! Once again the phone rang. Netta snatched it off the hook with such fury that it threatened to break the phone.

  “Netta, you dead! They gone find ya ass in Druid Hill Park with a bullet in your head,” the male caller said before quickly hanging up.

  All she heard was heavy breathing. Suddenly, a familiar chill ran down her spine. Someone had just threatened her life. The call had successfully shaken Netta up. She took this seriously. She was under no impression that the caller was bluffing.

  These were strange days for Netta. Her mind was filled with confusion while being confined to a hospital bed as her body healed. She never got the face-to-face confrontation with Sonya that she sought. But she was all right with that. And she never breathed a word about the phone calls to Tone either.

  Netta paced in her hospital room. She was already fully dressed in some blue jeans, black heels and a red silk blouse as she waited for the necessary paperwork to sign herself out the hospital. Over the course of the last few weeks, she had grown very paranoid about being in the hospital. It was ironic, the thing that saved her life she thought might be responsible for her death. No one could tell her anything about her personal safety. She wouldn’t hear of it. She became very delusional about Black retaliating against her again. He wasn’t some figment of her imagination; he was a threat and the threat to her life was real.

  Netta was deep in thought when her physician entered her room. He was a bald, older white man, dressed in a white overcoat, a pair of beige khakis and black soft bottom wing tipped shoes. He held a clipboard as he calmly strolled over to her. He had stopped making his rounds so that he could address Netta personally.

  “How you doing today, Miss Jackson?” he began.

  “I’m good,” she said flatly.

  “It’s come to my attention that you’d like to sign yourself out of the hospital,” he said.. “Is that true?”

  “Yes,” she responded. “Is that my paperwork in your hand?”

  “Yes. Now hold on a minute,” he warned. “Before we get to that, I would like to have a brief conversation with you, if you don’t mind.”

  There was no talking Netta out of leaving. She wasn’t waiting for a clean bill of health. Whatever the doctor had to say, no matter how serious it may be, she truly didn’t care. Her medical problems were her own to deal with.

  He continued, “As you know, you’re leaving the hospital against our wishes. The injuries you sustained in the attack were quite serious. Head trauma and internal bleeding are nothing to play with. I strongly suggest that you reconsider leaving, at least for a few days, until another CAT scan of your brain can be performed. I would feel a heck of a lot better discharging you knowing that you’ve healed properly. I understand the monotony of being in the hospital is getting the best of you, but it’s for your own good.”

  “Thank you for your concern, Doc. I appreciate everything that you and the medical staff have done for me. But all things being equal, I’m still signing myself out, today,” she explained.

  “If you insist, Miss Jackson,” he replied, finally giving up. Regrettably, there were no friends or family in the room that the doctor could enlist to convince her to stay. “So what I have here is a form called an AMA discharge. It’s an acronym for Against Medical Advice. It’s a release form freeing the hospital and its staff from any medical complications that should arise as a result of you leaving. It basically frees us from any malpractice suit that you may bring against us. You will not be able to sue for future monetary compensation. By you signing this form, you waive all your rights. Is that clear?”

  “Yes,” Netta acknowledged. “Where do I sign?”

  “Please sign next to the x’s at the bottom of each form,” the physician informed her, while handing over the clipboard and a pen.

  Hurriedly Netta scribbled her name on the documents and handed the clipboard back to the doctor.
r />   “Well, Miss Jackson, it’s been a pleasure helping you on your road to recovery,” the physician said politely. “I wish you a speedy recovery and nothing but success in your future endeavors.”

  “Thanks Doc,” she announced, while shaking his hand. “I appreciate all the things y’all have done for me. And y’all will forever be in my prayers.”

  “Your first few days home try to take it easy. No strenuous physical activity. Try to avoid stress. And get plenty of rest and relaxation,” the physician suggested. “If I were you, I really would reconsider. However, I understand it’s not my call to make.”

  Netta told him, “You’re absolutely right. It’s not your call, it’s mine.”

  “I wish things could have been different,” the physician announced as he turned to exit the room.

  “Me too, Doc. Me too,” she replied.

  When Netta arrived at the main entrance of the hospital, she waited in the lobby for a precious few minutes, just lingering and thinking. Her thoughts turned to Tone, and the burden that he bore for her. He had paid professional movers to pack up her things and place them in storage. He had also rented a one-bedroom apartment in Randallstown for them to live in. Her living situation now was different from the one she left behind when she entered the hospital.

  Quickly Netta grew tired of waiting inside the lobby. She navigated her way through the revolving doors, passing patients in wheelchairs being released to their families care. She stopped in her tracks, looking around trying to spot Tone’s Mazda MPV mini van she thought he was picking her up in. She became visibly upset when she didn’t spot it. Just then a shiny, white BMW M3 with dark tinted windows and a wide body kit came to a halt right in front of her. Slowly, the passenger window rolled down.

  “Get in.” Tone smiled, trying to make a good impression on Netta.

  Netta grinned as she got into the car. She was thoroughly impressed by Tone’s ride.

  “When you get this?” she asked.

  “A few weeks ago,” he explained. “I haven’t really driven it yet. You the only person that’s been in it besides my cousin Mann. I only bring this joint out on special occasions. I ain’t never even drove this joint in the hood yet.”

  “Oh, so I’m special, huh?” Netta remarked.

  “You got that right!” Tone added. “If you wasn’t I wouldn’t be here.”

  For a while the two occupants of the car remained silent as they allowed Tone’s last words to sink in. Skillfully, Tone maneuvered the five speed, European sedan through the downtown streets of Baltimore.

  Netta admired the beautiful warm weather and all the people that were outside enjoying their lunch. It was the little things like this that reminded her to always be appreciative, since she could have had it all taken away from her that night in the hotel.

  “Where we goin’?” Netta suddenly said as the car ventured onto the highway.

  “Just chill Ma!” Tone explained. “I gotta big surprise for you.”

  Netta smiled again, as she wondered what lay in store for her next.

  Meanwhile, Tone continued driving on Interstate 295 South, quickly putting Baltimore City in his rearview mirror. Soon signs for Baltimore Washington International airport began to pop up. Tone followed the signs until he came to a stop at the airport’s long-term parking lot.

  “What’s goin’ on, Tone? Why are we parked in the airport parking lot? You picking somebody up?” she wondered.

  “Yeah, you,” he told her. “C’mon, we gotta flight to catch.”

  “What?” Netta protested. “How am I gonna go on a trip if I ain’t got no clothes? Please, explain that part to me.”

  “Easy, I got you,” he replied as they exited the car. “I ain’t got no luggage either, so we even. I figured that we can go shoppin’ in Miami for some clothes since we don’t board our cruise ship until tomorrow.”

  When Netta had told him her plans of checking out the hospital a few days in advance, Tone had taken the liberty of booking them a getaway from Baltimore. He thought a cruise would be therapeutic for her, all things considered. The trip wasn’t just something he wanted to do for her. It was something that he needed to do for them, relationship wise.

  “Ahhhhh!!!” Netta screamed, running over and jumping into his arms. “A cruise? Really? I never been on one of those before.”

  Tone smiled as he held Netta close in his arms. He enjoyed every moment of this affectionate embrace. He was happy that Netta was happy. She was happy that Tone was mindful enough to put the time and effort into booking a well needed vacation, a break from the streets of Baltimore.

  “Where we goin’?” she shouted.

  “The Bahamas and a few other islands in the Caribbean,” he told her. “I really don’t know. I paid a travel agent to set this whole thing up to be honest.”

  The prospect of going on a trip out the country gave her something to look forward to besides the loneliness she had experienced while in the hospital. This was all such a pleasant surprise. Netta’s thoughts shifted back to Tone and how their relationship was beginning to blossom so unexpectedly.

  The three-hour, non-stop flight from Baltimore to Miami felt shorter than it actually was. Tone and Netta disembarked the flight and went straight to the exclusive Bal Harbour shopping district to shop at some of the trendiest designer boutiques they could find. They made purchases at Neiman Marcus and Saks Fifth Avenue before hitting up Versace, Gucci and the Prada stores.

  Tone had to miss out on some of the fun since he was too big to wear most of the European designers’ wardrobe. Most of the stores didn’t carry his size. Still, that didn’t stop him from copping a designer belt and a pair of designer flip-flop sandals. He even bought a pair of Cartier sunglasses for the beach. Tone purchased most of his wardrobe from the mall. He bought a lot of Nike and Adidas athletic apparel, while Netta splurged on the high-end garments.

  On their brief layover in Miami, Tone showed Netta money wasn’t a thing. He might not have been a kingpin like her former boyfriend Black, but the money he was making on the streets of Baltimore wasn’t anything to frown upon either. Tone was making a statement as far as what he was doing in the streets.

  If he was hoping that it would impress Netta, it very well did. She loved being pampered and spoiled by her man. She loved the fact that he never once said no. That she was able to get anything she wanted. The Louis Vuitton luggage sealed the deal for her. She knew Tone had spent a pretty penny on this trip already.

  Tone had a taste for some Spanish food, so after shopping, they checked into a hotel, showered, changed clothes then headed back out for an early evening dinner. They wound up at some Cuban restaurant in South Beach.

  “Thank you, Tone.” Netta gushed over her food. “This has been one of the best days of my life.”

  “Damn, we ain’t even go on the cruise yet,” he said. “I thought they always said the best is yet to come.”

  Whether Netta knew it or not, Tone was laying the foundation with her. That was what he was doing, making an emotional connection. Their relationship wouldn’t be built on what he could do for her financially or how she could please him sexually. Every time Netta looked at him, she blushed. Every time while he was out in the streets doing his thing, he had thought about her. All the quality time they spent together took their relationship up another notch.

  Suddenly Netta reached over and gave Tone a kiss on the lips. He could only concentrate on so many things at once, being in the middle of a conversation, eating dinner and now getting kissed was too much for him. He stopped eating to focus solely on the beautiful woman in front of him.

  “You know, we could consider this trip a honeymoon,” he told her between kisses. “That way we can consummate the marriage.”

  “Oh really ... honeymoon, huh?” she mused. “That’s a thought. And that other thing you said is very doable.”

  “Listen, Netta, you mine and you’ll always be mine,” he told her convincingly, letting her know that the thought wasn’t
open for debate.

  Netta believed that Tone was the man for her, one hundred percent.

  “I hear you,” she answered.

  Tone smiled at the thought of finally having sex with Netta. He was getting so much sex from other women that he could afford to be patient. He knew eventually it would happen because she was an attractive woman and he was an attractive man. They would be in close quarters for the next five days, so sex of some sort was virtually a given. He just wanted their union to be spontaneous. He didn’t want to put her in a position where she felt like she owed him.

  It was midday the next afternoon and the couple checked out of their hotel and took a taxicab to the port to board the gigantic luxury liner cruise ship. Seamlessly, Tone and Netta blended in with the countless other couples, families and vacationers that were setting sail for warm, exotic and romantic destinations.

  “Close ya eyes,” Tone said as they arrived at their suite’s door.

  “Why? I wanna see,” she playfully commented. With one hand covering Netta’s eyes and the other unlocking the door, they slowly entered the room.

  “Walla,” he pronounced, as if he were doing a magic trick.

  Netta opened her eyes at the precise moment to see that they were staying in a luxurious hotel on water. The suite was plush with too many amenities to even name. Netta walked around the suite in amazement. The more she saw, the more she liked the suite. She walked out on the balcony and imagined the breathtaking seaside view they would have once the cruise ship departed.

  She wanted nothing more than the comfort, rest and relaxation that this suite provided. She envisioned having sex with Tone in every inch of this room. This was a place Netta could definitely get used to. And she hadn’t even seen what other activities lay in store for them on the ship.

  “Tone, I must admit, you really rolled out the red carpet for me,” Netta praised him.

 

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