This Could Be Us But You Playin' 2

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This Could Be Us But You Playin' 2 Page 8

by Cachet


  “Well, if it’s like that, I’m glad you didn’t go either.”

  “What do you have to eat in here because I don’t want no damn hotdogs.” Paris stood up, walked over towards the refrigerator, and opened it. “You ain’t got shit in here!”

  “Do you want to order something?” Shanice asked, knowing her cousin was right. She hadn’t been to the grocery store yet, and even if she had, there wouldn’t have been anything but TV dinners and quick fixes.

  “Hell no! Marlon had me eating enough of that shit when we were together. I want some home cooking. Give me the keys to your car,” Paris told her, turning around with her hand out. “I’m about to go get something to cook because clearly, it ain’t shit in here.”

  Standing up and walking over to her key hook, Shanice grabbed her keys and handed them to her cousin. “Awww, shit nah!” She danced, popping her booty. “You about to cook? Oh yeah.” She loved her cousin’s cooking.

  Paris laughed. “Calm down bitch, because I ain’t doing too much. Ron is coming to get me in the morning, and we’re supposed to be flying to Vegas for the weekend.”

  “I wish I could go,” Shanice pouted.

  She loved her cousin dearly, but was also secretly jealous of her free lifestyle. Paris had nothing or no one to tie her down, so she was able to go anywhere she pleased at the drop of a dime. Shanice, on the other hand, had a three-year-old child and one on the way, so she wasn’t able to do those kinds of things. Of course, she knew that her mother would watch London if she needed her to, but how much could she really get into with a bun in the oven? As Paris reached into her bag and grabbed her wallet, Shanice wish that she could be more like her cousin. While she cried daily over a man who belonged to someone else, Paris embraced it. She didn’t give a damn if any of the dudes she was dealing with had someone else. Paris actually preferred that they did, that way she could do what the hell she wanted while they were doing them. Not only was she free and in control of her life, she was also beautiful.

  Shanice knew that she wasn’t a slouch in the looks department. With a beauty about her that could make a blind man turn his head in her direction, there was no doubt in her mind that she was a dime. If she had a fresh sew-in and some make-up, she was sure to stand out. While Shanice did a little extra to be seen, Paris, on the other hand, was more of a natural beauty. She didn’t wear a drop of make-up because she didn’t have to. Mixed with her mother’s Puerto Rican genes and her father’s black roots, her olive colored skin was flawless. With a head full of naturally curly locks, she wore her light brown hair in big curls that framed her face and fell down her back. At twenty-one, with a baby face, she looked more like she seventeen than anything. With thick thighs, a small waist, and a big black girl booty, Paris was a catch for any guy. Her innocent looks had them all ready to do anything she asked of them.

  “You can, but you too busy chasing after that nothing ass loser,” Paris tossed over her shoulder before she walked out of the door leaving her cousin alone with her thoughts.

  *****

  Hours after eating the yellow rice, garlic shrimp, stuffed mushrooms, and gazpacho, the cousins sat on the couch. After feeding London, taking her a bath, and putting her bed, she was out for the count. This was good for Shanice because she could kick back and relax without worrying about her daughter. She sat beside her cousin, as she spoke to her friend on the phone about their plans for the following day. As Shanice listened to their conversation, she couldn’t help but wonder if she would have been doing the same if she had not gotten pregnant with London. Without her daughter, she doubted that she would have stuck with Deondre for as long as she had. Shanice was sure that she would have gotten tired of Deondre’s shit a lot sooner had there not been a child involved; at least that’s what she thought.

  “Alright, well you can pick me up from my cousin’s house in Jonesboro around noon, that way we can make our flight on time.” Paris stopped and listened to the person on the other line. “Cool, well I’ll see you tomorrow.” After she hung up the phone, she turned to her cousin and smiled.

  “I can’t stand yo’ ass.” Shanice rolled her eyes.

  “Why?” Paris leaned in the opposite direction and stared at her. “Don’t get mad at me because yo’ ass stuck in this bitch pregnant and mad.”

  “I’m not mad.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Neither woman said anything for a few moments, each caught in their own thoughts. Paris was the first to speak. “Why do you let him do you the way he does, Nicy?”

  “I don’t know,” Shanice sighed. “I guess… I guess it’s because I love him,” she admitted.

  “Oh, I know you love him. I also know that love shouldn’t hurt.” Paris turned and looked at her cousin with apologetic eyes. “I love you, so I’m going to tell you the truth right now. Dre is exactly where he wants to be, and even though I know this shit hurts, it’s the truth. You gotta live your life baby.”

  Without warning, tears began to fill Shanice’s eyes. Before she knew it, they were spilling out and sliding down her face. “I know, but it’s hard.” She cried.

  Paris leaned in and placed her arm around her cousin’s shoulder. Pulling her body in her direction, she hugged her tight while rubbing small circles in her back. “I know it is, but it’s only as hard as you make it,” she told her truthfully. “I watched my daddy stay with my mother, even when he knew she didn’t love him. He stayed because of me and because of it, he drank himself into an early grave. He was miserable living in that fucking house, but all he cared about was me and my happiness.” Wiping the tears that were now running down her face, Paris reflected on her life as a child.

  When she was younger, she thought that her parents, Myron and Catalina, were deeply in love. While she was around, they had nothing but smiles on their faces as they both pretended to be happy. Paris didn’t find out that it was all fake until she was about eleven years old. Around that time, she started to notice that her parents really didn’t act like the parents that she saw on the television. While the families on TV kissed, hugged, and showed that they loved one another, hers didn’t; at least not when they were at home. They never kissed or showed each other any kind of affection towards one another. They didn’t even touch each other when she was around. This was odd to a young Paris because she knew that it wasn’t because they weren’t capable of showing it because they showed her love all of the time.

  With the thought of something wrong, Paris began to pay closer attention to her parents. It was then that she started to notice the cutting of the eyes, the lip smacking, and looks of disgust when they thought she wasn’t looking. By the time she was thirteen, they were living in Virginia. It didn’t take long for her to start to figure out what the problem was, and it wasn’t her father. One evening while Paris was supposed to be in bed, she heard her parents arguing, even though they tried their best to be quiet. After sneaking out of her room and down the hall, she listened as her father threatened to leave her mother if she continued to sleep around. At first, Paris thought that maybe he was tripping, until she heard her mother’s reply.

  “Come on Myron.” Her mother sighed. “You already knew what the arrangement was beforehand. We fucked around, I got pregnant, you wanted me to keep the child, and I did. This marriage thing was all a front for your family and the military, and you knew that. Hell, it was all your idea. You are the one who wants to continue to keep up this façade about us living happily ever after. If it were up to me, I would have been left.”

  “Catalina, what has happened to you?” her father asked, “You used to be such a wonderful person, but now you’re nothing but a heartless bitch! Don’t you care what happens to our daughter if we should part ways?”

  Paris heard her mother laugh. “Paris will be just fine. She had two parents who love her more than anything. They just don’t love each other. Don’t try to make me feel bad about wanting to be happy. There is no law in the books that says that a child has to have two parents in the same household.”<
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  “Do you love him?” Her father asked.

  “Myron—”

  “No, I want to know the answer,” her father interrupted, “Do you love him, Catalina?”

  “Yes… yes, I do,” her mother spoke in a low tone.

  “What can I do to make this right? I know we have our differences, but I don’t want to lose my family. Even though you don’t think it matters, I know that my daughter deserves a two parent household. You better believe, I’m going to stick this out if it kills me.”

  Paris never stood around to find out what her mother said in return. She was too heartbroken to know that things were that bad between the two of them. Knowing that her father was basically begging her mother to keep their family together was too much for Paris. She couldn’t believe that her mother could be so cold to the man who would do anything to make her happy. Once Paris got back to her room, she laid in bed and cried. Her mind was all over the place. When she actually sat back and through about it, she realized that it wasn’t that hard to notice that her mother had been stepping out all along. For as long as Paris could remember, her mother was always off busy doing something. Whether it was a girl’s day with her friends, bingo with the older women that she knew, or just time to herself; she was always gone. No longer active in the military, she had a bunch of free time and she used every bit of it.

  From that moment on, things continued to take a turn for the worse. Paris began to notice that her father drank much more than he did before. Before, during, and after dinner, he had a drink in his hand. After a while, his need for alcohol began to take a toll on his life. His speech began to change and he started to sound hoarse. He complained about his throat being sore all of the time and had a terrible cough that wouldn’t clear up, no matter how much medicine he took. Due to this, medical leaves and hospital stays started to be way more frequent than any of them liked. It had gotten so bad that her father was medically discharged, and not long after, found out that he had Laryngeal cancer, which is cancer in the throat. Paris was devastated. It killed her to watch her ‘Superman’ going through such a terrible thing. Within a year, her father was dead, and deep down, she blamed her mother for it.

  “I know shit is hard right now, Nicy, but you can’t let him run your fucking life. It’s not fair to you, and it’s definitely not fair to London,” Paris said, once again wiping away her tears. Her parents’ lifestyle and the death of her father was the reasoning behind how she acted, and she didn’t want her baby cousin to do the same things she was.

  “You’re right,” Shanice whispered. “I really need to leave Dre’s ass alone,” she said, as a lone tear rolled down her face. “I really do.” With her heart filled with dread, she hoped that she could be strong enough to resist Deondre when he decided to come around; because she knew he was definitely coming.

  Chapter 6

  “What you about to get into?” Desmond asked, getting up from the couch.

  Kaleb shrugged his shoulders. “Shit, probably going to go grab something to eat and come back to the house.”

  “Yo’ bored ass,” he joked. “You don’t do shit but sit in the damn house like a broken hearted little girl.”

  “Fuck you, nigga,” Kaleb barked, even though he couldn’t help but to laugh along with his friend. “Why? What are you about to do?”

  “Nothing major. I was thinking about calling Peanut and asking her if she wanted to go to bar and grab a few drinks and some wings, but you really need to get out.”

  “I don’t know,” Kaleb said. Just the mention of NiChia’s name had him, once again, thinking about Dominique. All he wanted to do was sit in the house. Being around people wasn’t something that he was up for.

  Desmond chuckled. “Nigga, you act like you already got some good shit lined up. You ain’t gone do shit but sit in this bitch watching TV.”

  Still not telling his friend his reasoning, Kaleb just uttered, “It ain’t really shit to do.”

  “Te-Te must still be giving you the silent treatment, huh?”

  “Hell yeah,” he admitted. “She ain’t trying to talk to me, bro. I think I fucked up.”

  “Nah, she’s just mad,” Desmond told him. “She’ll come around. What I wanna know is do you want her to?”

  Kaleb sat there without saying anything for a while. “You know what, I really don’t know,” he answered honestly. “What I really want is Nikki, but right now, she’s on some bullshit. It’s getting to the point that I’m about tired of chasing her ass, and that’s for real.” Kaleb brought his hands up and ran them across his face. “It’s like she doesn’t know what she wants, but expects me to wait around until she figures it out. Do you know she got mad at me for being in the Virgin Islands with Te-Te?”

  “What?” Desmond looked at him like he was crazy. “How the fuck she figured she had the right to feel some kind of way about you being on vacation with yo’ girl and she gotta nigga?”

  “The hell if I know. The fucked up part is the fact that after she hung up on me when she found out I was there, I took my anger out on Te-Te like she was the fucking problem.” Kaleb sat up on the couch, putting his elbows on his knees. “She noticed my change too because she brought that shit up before she stormed up outta here.”

  “Man, you got some shit going on,” was all Desmond could say. His friend was seriously stuck in a love triangle. He understood exactly where Kaleb was coming from, but glad that it wasn’t him.

  “Nikki wants me to play the background, all while she’s laying up with that nigga. Not only that, but lately she hasn’t even been answering any of my calls. I can call her ass back to back, and she won’t pick up or call me back.”

  “That’s telling you something bro.” Desmond leaned in and placed his hand on Kaleb’s shoulder. He hated to break it to his friend, but the truth was the truth. If someone wasn’t going to answer your calls or hit you back, it meant that they didn’t want to speak to you. Desmond really liked Dominique and loved how happy she made Kaleb when they were together. What he didn’t appreciate was the fact that she was stringing his brother from another along, as if he were some kind of lame. That was something that wasn’t right, and he was definitely going to let Kaleb know it. “Stop calling her ass then. You know she sees you calling, man. It’s fucked up that she can’t even find two minutes to hit you back.” Desmond shook his head. “Bro, you gotta know if she really wanted to talk to you, she would. Hell, you make time to speak to her, even with Te-Te around. Why can’t she do the same?”

  Kaleb hated to admit it, but Desmond had a point. “You’re right. I was thinking that same thing. It ain’t hard to pick up the fucking phone and call a nigga back!” he snapped, feeling himself getting upset. “Truth is, I’m about over the entire thing. I ain’t called her in almost a week. I’m tired of playing her games. Fuck it, it was fun while it lasted,” he said, even though his heart hurt just saying it.

  This was the first time that Kaleb actually shared his real feelings with his best friend. It felt good to let down his guard and not care about how soft he looked. The situation with Dominique was weighing heavy on his mind, and he needed someone to talk about it with before he lost it. Kaleb was at the end of the rope with her and wanted to make sure that he wasn’t being unreasonable. Hearing Desmond say pretty much the same thing let him know that he wasn’t. No longer was he going to worry about Dominique because, apparently, she wasn’t thinking about him. If so, she would have at least called or answered one of his many calls.

  Kaleb wanted to kick himself for being so stupid. The signs where there, but he chose to ignore them. All the times he’d asked her to leave her dude and just be with him, she’d always either make up an excuse or change the subject altogether. Dominique called him when she was free, not the other way around. It had been times when he would call her for days at a time and she wouldn’t answer. During those times, he would mope around the house like he’d lost his dog. Then when she was ready, she’d dial him up and he’d drop everything to be
with her, many times leaving Tiera at home alone believing that he was going off to handle business. Just thinking about Tiera had Kaleb really heated. Tiera is a good girl, and he knew that she didn’t deserve to be done the way that he had done her. Kaleb wondered if he had messed up things between the two of them. Since it was getting late, he planned to drop by her apartment the next day and see if they could get back on track.

  “Fuck it! I do need to get the hell out of the house,” Kaleb admitted. “What bar you trying to go to, and who driving?” He stood up and walked towards the stairs that lead to his bedroom.

  “My nigga.” Desmond smiled, “I’ll drive. You just gone ahead and get out of them funky ass jogging pants.”

  *****

  With a cold Corona in his hand, Kaleb laughed at Desmond as he cracked jokes about the couple on the pool table beside theirs. The facial expressions he was making had Kaleb damn near in tears as he broke down every single thing that was wrong with the pair. The guy, who was extremely short and weighted damn near four hundred pounds, sported a pair of fake Gucci loafers, that were worn down and leaning, with a matching belt and hat. The long white t-shirt he wore almost came down to his knees and looked as if it hadn’t been washed in days, and the thin gold chain that was around his neck was so tight, that it was a miracle that he hadn’t passed the fuck out from lack of air. Even looking as broke as he was, you couldn’t tell him shit as he stood there posted up like he was a damn boss.

  The chick he was with didn’t look any better. While he walked in with her on his arm as if she was a bad bitch, what she really looked like was a retired crackhead prostitute. Her short nappy hair was combed to the side and gelled down to her face with zigzag swirls at the end. She wore an itty bitty skirt that was so small that every time she bent over to take her shot, the cheeks of her funky looking ass showed. There was no doubt in Desmond or Kaleb’s minds that she did the shit on purpose, but it was still funny to see her making a fool out of herself for two men that wouldn’t give her the time of day whether she was with her nigga or not.

 

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