The Demise of Alexis Vancamp

by Karen P. Williams

  My cell phone beeped, telling me I had a new text message. When I checked it, I saw it was from my mother, saying she wanted to meet me when I was available. Although it felt good to hear from her, I was too pissed to respond at that moment.

  Santana ended up taking me to work.

  He parked and said, “I’ll pick you up, babe.”

  I said nothing. I was too angry. I simply got out of the car and closed the door.

  When I got inside my job, and reported to my booth, I was surprised that someone had put a brochure for Midas tires near my drawer. I heard laughter from Mona and Keana. Keana, who must have just gotten her weave done, kept flicking her hair over her shoulder and saying, “Dumb bitch.”

  I ignored her and grabbed my phone from my purse to turn it off. I saw my mom had texted me again, saying she needed to see me. I pressed the power button, shoved it back in my purse, and set the purse on the back of my chair. I ignored the snickers around me and tried to do my job the best that I could, despite my anger. The other bitch Mona walked by and purposely bumped my chair. When I looked at her she gave me a challenging look so I put my head down.

  When it was time to go home, I had expected Santana to pick me up in his car, but instead, he was in mine.

  “How did you—”

  “I used my GR check. Come on, baby.”

  I smiled and hopped in. He had replaced the tires but I no longer had my expensive rims, or rims at all. But I guessed it was better than not being mobile. Although it was only for a short time, I didn’t like being without my car. Since I was sixteen, I had always had reliable transportation.

  Once I buckled up, Santana pulled out of the parking lot. I pulled out my cell phone and sent my mother a text, telling her I could meet for her lunch on Tuesday. My mother texted me back immediately, saying Tuesday was fine and instructing me to meet her at Eggs Etc in Long Beach, at 10:00 A.M. I was hoping that my mother was coming around, and if she was coming around, maybe my dad would too. Maybe they both would forgive Santana and I could move back into the house he kicked us out of.

  When we got home, I saw that Santana had cooked again. This time he had made chicken wings with cream of mushroom soup, rice, green beans, and corn bread. It all tasted really good and I ate two platefuls. I was happy that Santana wasn’t tripping about the fact that I was no longer cooking. Thing was, I got off work at 6:00 P.M. and he got out of school at three. It wasn’t like it was when I worked for my dad where I made my own hours. Santana had taken it upon himself to start cooking our dinners. I was fine with it.

  “Oh, you feeling better today?” he asked me, laughing as I threw down.

  “Yeah.” I didn’t mention my mother because I didn’t want to get his hopes up if the meeting wasn’t successful. “I’m happy you were able to fix my car. Thank you, baby, for being so considerate.”

  “You my boo. What you expect?”

  I blew him a kiss.

  “Babe. You wanna stay up and watch a movie with me?”

  I yawned and shook my head. Truthfully I did. But with my working longer hours at the job I noticed my energy level was far worse than it’d ever been. I slept a whole lot more than I used to. “No, baby. I’m going to go get some sleep.” I got up, walked over to him, and kissed him. “Thank you for such a good dinner.”

  “I got some more dinner for you,” he said, placing my hand on his penis.

  I laughed. Normally, I would enjoy his lovemaking but I was too worn out tonight. But still I said, “I could always have more dinner.”

  “Naw, baby. You look like you can barely stand up. Go get some rest. Lethal can wait for you when you get your energy back up.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, baby. Don’t worry. I’m not going nowhere. I’m gonna watch this movie and I’ll be up in a minute to cuddle.”

  “Okay, baby.”

  I took my hand away and went into the room to lie down. Before I drifted off, I hoped when I met my mother for lunch we could resolve all our issues.

  Chapter 28

  When I met my mother for breakfast, my stomach was in knots. I attributed it to my nerves. I noticed that my mother didn’t look like the same vibrant mother she normally was. Her usually silky jet-black hair lacked the luster it normally had. She wore no makeup. She had bags under her eyes and she wore a simple sweat suit. She didn’t have her nails done, and I couldn’t remember a time where she hadn’t had her nails done.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  She tried to smile at me but she couldn’t. It looked so tight. I looked away.

  “There are some things I wanted to talk to you about, face to face. Things are chaotic at best right now. I don’t know if your father told you, but we’re getting a divorce.”

  Alarmed, I said, “Mom, no.” I knew I wasn’t a kid anymore, but the thought of my parents splitting up was very disturbing to me. It hurt. I never ever thought I would hear the day they would divorce. I didn’t want that. I wanted them to fix it and stay married.

  “It’s already done. I filed the papers already. He has already”—she stifled a sob—“he has already moved out.”

  I closed my eyes briefly, fighting back tears. I had always thought my parents had the perfect marriage, and they always seemed deeply in love. Growing up, I would watch them and hope my marriage could be strong like theirs. I felt my mother owed it to all the history they had to work it out.

  “I don’t know, Alexis. It seems like when he came into our lives, a black cloud hovered over us and our normal, happy life no longer existed.”

  I shook my head. I knew the “black cloud” she was referring to was Santana. But Santana didn’t have anything to do with Daddy cheating. Still, I didn’t want to go into defense mode so I simply listened.

  “Your sister is in rehab.”

  I gasped. “What?”

  “She had been in there for a while. When she came back home, after you kicked her out, she started stealing from us. It was only a matter of time before we found out that she was addicted to ecstasy.”

  So my sister’s wild ways have finally caught up to her. I hoped my mother wasn’t going to go in on Santana about this, too. I wasn’t surprised that my sister had started messing with drugs. She was a wild child and she liked to play with fire.

  “But I didn’t come to talk to you about that. You remember when I told you someone was crank calling my phone? Playing porn in the background? Breathing heavy on the phone? Well, I finally got tired of it and went to the police station. They traced the calls.” She swallowed hard before speaking again. “They said that the person responsible for the calls was Santana Marcelino.”

  My mouth shot open angrily. “Mom! Why would you sit here and lie like that?” Now she had made me angry. I knew she was going through stuff but it was outright pathetic to make something like this up! She was so determined to get me to leave Santana and the fact that she would stoop this low baffled me.

  “This is why I didn’t want to tell you. I knew in your little sick, twisted mind you would throw it back on me. What in the world happened to you? You have let this man brainwash you. I really don’t know who you are anymore.”

  “And you know what, Mom? I can say the same about you. I’m sorry Dad fucked around on you! But that is not Santana’s fault. And as for your precious Bria, even though you haven’t said it, I know you are trying to blame Santana for that when we all know that Bria was a ticking time bomb. All her life, she has chased fire, and burnt you and Dad in the process. But you want to point the finger at someone, instead of evaluating whether you did the best parenting and set the proper boundaries for her!”

  My mother’s head snapped back at the last part. She looked really hurt that I attacked her parenting skills. And while I didn’t want to hurt my mother, I was stating the truth. I mean, she didn’t give a shit about hurting me by accusing Santana of crank calling her so why should I care?

  I continued to talk. “Look, Mom. I love Santana. I have tried over and over to show you tha
t he is not a bad guy. He loves me. Has he made mistakes? Yes! Has he owned up to them and made things right? Yes. He tried to right the wrong with you, but you won’t let him. He needs to be perfect to get your approval. It’s like no one is allowed to mess up with you except for Bria. She is allowed to be as imperfect as they come.”

  Tears slid down her face and she stared at me with a blank expression. She wiped them away and said in a low voice, “You are a lost cause.”

  That was enough. I grabbed my purse and stood to my feet. “Well, if you feel that way then stay the fuck out of my life.”

  I didn’t even bother looking her way again. I walked away, frustrated as hell.

  As I drove home I decided not to tell Santana about the conversation. All it would do was make him mad and probably make him feel like things would never get better between him and my mother. I would just have to hope and pray that one day they would.

  I got another lovely surprise when I got up the next morning. I discovered that someone had keyed STUCK-UP BITCH on my car. Santana had already left and I was on my own. Once again people came out to the parking lot and watched me crying. My once beautiful car was now fucked up. And I didn’t know what to do. So against Santana’s wishes, I called the police. I waited for them to come, which was damn near an hour later, making me late as hell for work. Crazy part was, there was a police hub in the complex.

  The cop walked over to me, taking his sweet little time. “What’s the problem?”

  “You don’t see it? Someone vandalized my car!”

  “Hey! Calm the fuck down.”

  I jumped at the sharpness in his voice and the fact that he had cursed at me. I had never had a cop speak to me that way. But I was in the projects: a place that, I was sure, cops looked down on. I was sure if he came over to where I used to live, he would have been nicer.

  “Did you see the person who did it?”

  I knew it had to be the two bitches from my job, Mona and Keana. “Stuck-up bitch” was their favorite tagline. So I said, “I know who did it. Two of my—”

  He put a hand up, stopping my conversation. “Did you see them?”

  “No.”

  “Then I really can’t help you. I can take the report but unless it was witnessed, nothing can really be done.” He jotted something down and handed a duplicate copy to me.

  I was enraged but I knew I couldn’t do anything about it. I tossed the paper on the ground, got in my car, and set out for work.

  When I got there, luckily, my supervisor wasn’t there. My eyes burned with fury as Mona and Keana continued to stare at me with smirks on their faces. This time I was brave and glared back at them. Normally the place was busy, giving me a distraction from their shit talking. But today we didn’t have many customers and they continued to fuck with me.

  “Damn! Move your chair up some,” Mona’s fat ass said. She shoved it and slid by to her booth.

  I sucked my teeth and sighed deeply.

  “What?” Her eyes were wide. “You act like you want to do something.”

  My heart sped up. I put my head down, fearful she would try to initiate a fight with me.

  “That’s what I thought, punk-ass bitch.”

  Then, not even five minutes later, Keana went in over me by saying, “Bitch act like she better than some fucking body but live in the same fucking projects that we do.”

  Mona added, “With her fucked-up car.”

  “Oooh.” Keana put a hand over her mouth and started laughing.

  That was it. I scribbled a note on a Post-it, saying I was feeling sick and needed to leave. I stuck it on my computer screen. Then I clocked out, grabbed my purse, and stormed out of there. I had to find another job.

  I found two employment agencies; one was in Long Beach and the other one was in Lakewood. As I left the Lakewood agency, I drove past my old office on Candlewood. Those were the good days, I thought, where I made good money, made my own hours, and had peace of mind.

  I had to get a job so I didn’t have to be around those trifling bitches anymore. It needed to be a job making more money so we could move out of the Carmelitos. I even went to Work Source on Long Beach Boulevard, made a resume, and looked at the different job bulletins. I faxed my resume to several places. I tried to be positive about the job prospects, but there was so much competition, it was overwhelming. Still, I had hope something would come through.

  When I got home I was beat. Santana was home already and in the kitchen. “Hey, babe,” he called.

  I walked inside, kissed him, and said, “Check out my car.”

  “Huh?” He looked confused.

  “Go see it.”

  “All right. Keep an eye on the meat.”

  I grabbed the fork from his hand and watched the steak he had in a frying pan with some butter, onion, and garlic cloves. It smelled good. But I was too stressed to have an appetite.

  As I flipped the steak over, Santana walked back in the kitchen looking mad as hell. “When the fuck did that shit happen?”

  “I saw it this morning. You probably didn’t see it because it’s on the left side of the car and you park on the right.”

  “Well, why didn’t you call me, baby?”

  “I called the police.”

  “Why the fuck you do that? I told you not to.” He looked pissed that I didn’t obey him.

  “I wanted them to do something about it.”

  “Man, they ain’t going to do shit. They don’t care about no niggas living in the projects. Next time, do what your nigga tell you to do.”

  “Well, do something about this, Santana! I hate living here and I hate my job. Those bitches are always harassing me. And I know they are the ones who scratched up my car.”

  “Okay. I’m going to figure some shit out.” He hugged me. “Let me deal with this, okay, baby? For now, just try to ignore those bitches.” He started rubbing on my breasts, turning me on, and momentarily making me forget about the problems that I was having.

  He laid me down on the kitchen floor, unbuttoned my dress, and pulled it apart. He slid up my bra and started licking on my nipples. I moaned and bit my lip when he pushed my panties aside and started rubbing on my clit. I was getting so turned on that I wanted Santana’s dick inside of me. I sat up and grabbed it, feeling his thickness between my hands instantly harden. He picked me up off the floor and sat me on the counter. Santana then ripped off my panties and inserted his dick inside of me. I screeched as his thickness widened my opening. He completely filled me and pumped fiercely.

  “Damn, Santana!” He took it out and started eating my pussy.

  I squirmed and moaned as the budding pleasure inside of my pussy threatened to explode. He licked up and down my shaft and let the tip of his tongue flicker on my clit.

  “Santana, please.” My legs started shaking.

  He yanked me down off the counter, turned me around, bent me over, and started fucking me in my ass. The shit felt so good because as he fucked me in my ass, he fingered my clit. I nutted and nutted and nutted. By the time my baby finally busted, I was feeling so good and so weak, I slid to the floor. He simply scooped me up and carried me upstairs for round two. I sucked his dick, got it back hard, and rode him hard and fast into the night. Dinner was forgotten by both of us.

  Chapter 29

  The night of lovemaking made my mood a little better when I went to work the next day. I was surprised to see my manager standing near my work booth. Mona and Keana both looked at me and smirked when I walked past their booths.

  “Alexis, I need to talk to you.”

  “Okay.” I followed him to his office. He sat down and I sat across from him.

  “I understand you abandoned your post yesterday.”

  “Yes. But I left a note.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I wasn’t here to excuse you home and wasn’t aware that you had left until I came in today. And, more importantly, you left your drawer open. That was so stupid of you.”

  He opened my employee file and point
ed to my signature on one of the documents lying on top of the stack of papers. “When you signed on as an employee, you signed this document, stating that you would not abandon your post and you wouldn’t leave your drawer open.”

  “I know, but—”

  “But what?”

  “It slipped my mind. I’m dealing with a lot of issues right now and what doesn’t help is being constantly harassed by Mona and Keana. I told you about them before and you did nothing.”

  “Maybe if you had made an effort to be nice to the other employees instead of walking around with your nose in the air you wouldn’t have had the problems you have. But the bottom line is you left your drawer open. There is no second chance to do that again. I’m going to have to let you go.”

  I gasped. “What? Just like that? Without a second chance?”

  “Your problem is that you have only worked for your father. You haven’t experienced the real world yet. I don’t give second chances here. Go back to him for a second chance.” He slid an envelope to me. “That is your last check.”

  I stared down at the envelope and couldn’t believe he was firing me. No second chance or anything. And the look on his face told me that he was serious and that was his final decision.

  I stood, grabbed my paycheck, and angrily said, “Well, fuck you.” I shoved the papers off his desk and stormed out of his office.

  I went over to my booth and grabbed the two framed pictures of Santana and me, and walked past Mona and Keana.

  They both laughed. Keana said, “Bye, bitch.”

  As I walked past them I said, “Fuck you, bitches! You both not shit and don’t have shit!”

  The manager came out and shouted, “Get out of here!”

  They both laughed at that. It was humiliating so I rushed out, trying not to let them see me cry. Once I got in my car I punched off, still crying and wondering what I was going to do. I was now unemployed. How was I going to be able to pay all the bills now?