“Game over,” I announced unmercifully as my Glock came up barkin’ irreversible larceny.
The whole side of Millionaire’s face tore away from his head. The scene reminded me of that old newsreel of JFK being assassinated. Homie's head snapped back violently. Boc! Boc! Two more shots splattered what remained of his head all over the seats. I reached my arm inside the car and grabbed the paper shoppin’ bag. Then I was out.
As I pulled off and hit the gas pedal, my ringtone on my personal jack sang Mo’s personal tune. “Sup, Boo?” I answered calmly, as if I hadn’t just pushed a nigga's scalp back.
“Missing you,” she said in a voice as sweet as candied yams.
“I’m missing you too, Baby,” I sang in her ear as I bent a corner on two wheels. “Can I come back home?”
The line grew quiet.
“Hello? Sup, Shawdy, you still there?”
I looked down at the screen and realized that the call had disconnected. I didn’t kno’ if the call had dropped, or Mo’ had hung up. Whatever the case, I would get back at her later. Right now, I was gettin' the fuck out of Dodge.
What You Don’t Want Somebody Else Does
Molaysia
“Dammit,” I hissed.
My phone’s signal had dropped as soon as Blunt asked to come home. As bad as I wanted to call him back, I didn’t. I took the dropped call as a sign from above that I shouldn’t have called him in the first place.
My moment of weaknesses had passed. Now, I was okay. Anger replaced the longing for Blunt that had led to me calling him. I became more determined than before to let him go on about his business. Those children that he had fathered behind my back were the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.
I strolled back and forth from the kitchen to my bedroom in deep thought. I had to find a way to get over Blunt and move on to bigger and better. Like my cousin kept drilling in my head, it was time for me to wise up and stop letting him walk all over me like I was a dusty rug.
I deserved to be treated so much better. Suddenly, I recalled something that I had heard my college roommate say years ago. She said that the easiest way to get over someone is to converse with someone new. That was exactly what I intended to do.
I marched into the library and flicked on the light switch behind the door. I went over to the bookshelf where I kept my little black book. It was dusty from lack of use. I flipped it open and searched the pages until I came across my old high school sweetheart, Fabian's, phone number.
Three months ago, I had gone back home to Memphis, Tennessee to attend my ten- year class reunion. Fabian had been there, looking as fine as ever. It was a surprise to see him because last I heard he was locked up for assault with attempt to murder. That was no surprise at all because underneath the scholar student that Fabian had been in school, there had always lived a real bad boy.
When I asked about the trouble that he had gotten himself into, he explained it away as being a whole lot to do about nothing. I accepted his explanation along with his number, but I had told him that I was involved in a serious relationship.
"I understand, Molaysia, and I would never trespass on that. Just take my number and if things don't work out, give me a call," he'd said.
That night at the reunion, we had talked for hours, reminiscing and laughing about days gone by. Fabian told me that he owned two well-known nightclubs in Atlanta. He also made it a point to mention that he was single with no children.
"That's wonderful," I remarked.
"Not really," he disagreed. "I want a wife and children." He had looked at me with a look that I knew well.
I cleared my throat to hide my nervousness. I could never forget him because I had given him my virginity. We had dated for four years, but we eventually went in opposite directions after college. The strain of attending two different colleges and hardly seeing one another had contributed to our break up. It was quite a surprise that we both had relocated to Atlanta.
"Do you ever miss me, Mo'?" he asked that night.
I didn't respond to the question because it would have been inappropriate. Now, it was okay to give him an honest answer.
I went to bed that night trying to conjure up the nerve to give Fabian a call. By mid afternoon the next day, I had gathered up the courage to follow through on my thoughts. I went in the living room and dialed his number from my cell while my heart began racing faster than a military airplane. I was so nervous it was pathetic. The second that I heard his voice, I lost my nerve and hung up.
A few seconds later my phone rang, and Fabian's number came up on the screen. "Hello," I answered, sounding like the shy school girl that I had been when we first met.
"I'm sorry, but did someone just call me from this number?" he asked.
“Yes, this is Molaysia. How are you?”
“What’s been up with you, Girl?” He chuckled a bit. I could tell from the surprise in his tone that he had a smile as wide as the sky.
I plopped down on my leather recliner and twirled a strand of hair around my finger. “Not much. Same ole’ things just a different day."
"That doesn't sound very exciting. A woman like you deserves to smile every day."
"Life isn't quite like that," I said ruefully.
"Well, maybe you should think about making some changes in your life?" he suggested. "What is it that blocks your happiness?"
That began an hour long conversation. By the time it began winding down, my frown had been wiped away. We laughed and reminisced on a lot that happened in high school, and I enjoyed every minute.
“What do you have planned for later on tonight?” he asked.
“My cousin and I are going to the Keith Sweat concert. This is my birthday weekend.”
“When is your birthday? I’m sorry, you know I’m terrible at remembering those.” I could tell by the questions he asked that he was trying to hook up and chill.
“My birthday is tomorrow.”
“Well, do you have any plans?”
“No, I’m free. My cousin is here from Memphis, and she’s leaving Sunday morning heading back.”
He laughed. “You talking about Leesha?”
“Yes.”
“Is that girl still crazy? Man, I remember her from when we dated. She was a straight fool.”
“And nothing has changed about her.” I laughed.
"Has much changed about you?" he probed a little deeper.
"Some things," I hesitantly admitted because I didn't want to sound sour. There was a time before Blunt came into my life when I had a much more positive disposition.
"Mo', don't give up on love. Don't ever allow anyone to rob you of that," Fabian advised.
"I'll try not to." That was the best that I could promise because Blunt had done so much to destroy my fantasies.
Changing the topic of the conversation Fabian asked, “Can I take you out for drinks and dinner for your birthday?”
"I would love that," I eagerly accepted his invitation. I wasn't looking for anything more than a nice night out. I needed it.
We agreed to meet up tomorrow and ended the call.
Leesha and I started getting ready for the concert about two hours ahead of time so that we wouldn’t run late.
I showered, and then began styling my hair and getting dressed. An hour later, I was ready to go. I checked myself out in the high glossed, white, full lengthened Cheval floor mirror. I was fly in a snow-white Christopher Kane dress and a pair of satin Fendi color block sandals. My hair was pulled up to my crown and pinned to my head in an elegant bun. I reached over on the dresser and sprayed on Candy by Prada. The sensual, caramel, and vanilla scent smelled sexy. Hands down, I was going to be one of the best dressed chicks of the night.
I pranced downstairs into the living room feeling sexy and alive for a change. Leesha came down ten minutes later. She was dressed to the nine in a jaw dropping, leg baring, body-hugging, red Armani dress which proved that she had her body and style together.
�
��Ooh, girl we are both looking like some number one stunners,” she proclaimed, twirling around in a circle to show off her outfit.
I laughed. “Don’t hurt ‘em, Cuz. ‘Cause, girlfriend, you’re killing that fit.”
When I was around Leesha, the properness that I usually spoke with went out the window.
The twins came into the room and were checking us out. “Y’all look good, Mama,” Akeela said.
“Thanks, Boo boo.” Leesha planted a kiss on her forehead.
The other twin smiled at me. “Auntie, you’re so pretty. You and Mama are the bomb dot com.”
Leesha and I burst out laughing. We both hugged the girls before heading out the door for our Ladies Night Out.
Leesha turned toward them on her way outside. “Y’all keep these doors closed and don’t touch or break shit up in here ‘cause I’m gon’ have to pay for it. Don’t be in here playing loud music either and popping y’all asses. Act like I taught y’all some manners --- y'all are not half-raised.”
“Ugh,” Akeela grunted, looked her mother up and down and folded her arms like Leesha was getting on her nerves.
Leesha batted her long eyelashes and frowned at her. “You’re starting to smell yourself. You better stop talking back to me before I have you wondering what train just hit that ass.”
She looked at me and snapped her finger. “I knew there was something I needed to ask you. Do you think Blunt is coming back here tonight? ‘Cause I don’t need him barging in here where my kids are with his crazy ass.”
“No, I took my door key off his key ring about a week ago, after he came tip-toeing in the house at the crack of dawn. Don’t worry about that; he’s not coming back over here, especially not since you’re around.”
I turned the alarm system on to further dispel Leesha's worries. We told the kids we loved them and were out.
On the way to the concert, while listening to the smooth blend of R&B love songs, Leesha reached over in her bra and upped half a blunt. I waved my hand from side to side in objection.
“Un uh, Girl, you can’t smoke that mess up in here. We may get stopped by the police. Furthermore, I don't want the smell of it in my clothes.”
“Hush. I got this.” She waved me off, reached in her leather black Gucci handbag, pulled out a lighter, and fired it up. “Crack your window. That will help so that the smell won’t absorb in our clothes.”
I reached over and pushed the button, and the window slowly glided downward. She took a few puffs and fumbled around in her handbag. I looked away, taking in the scenery as I drove down I-85.
Atlanta was my favorite city and living here had been an absolute dream. The city was obviously doing something right because it was growing at a rapid pace. I could be so happy here if I had the right person to share it with, I thought.
Leesha sprayed something up in the air. I sniffed in its gritty scent. “That smells good,” I told her as I zoomed past a SUV.
"You like it?"
“Yes, what is that? The new Black Friday perfume by Nicki Minaj?”
She looked at me sideways and twisted her upper lip. “Hell nawl, this is that new Apple Mango Tango by Febreze. I stole it out of your bathroom. I ain’t gon’ be squirting my expensive shit out to cover up the weed scent. No, ma’am. I save my good shit for my body.”
I thought to myself, Well, damn, that’s where I recognized that scent from.
I pushed into the parking lot of The Atlanta Civic Center. It was packed from one end to the other with ticket holders. Females were getting out of their vehicles with the fresh dos and banging outfits. A few couples walked towards the building holding hands. Parking lot attendants directed traffic.
A black BMW rolled along in front of us at a snail's pace. The driver of the Beemer was instructed by one of the attendants to park next to a red truck. I rolled my window down, and we were directed to park in a vacant space not far from the BMW in front of me.
We stepped out of the car and walked up to the entrance, where Leesha spotted Fabian in front of us walking with some skinny brown-skinned woman who looked to be in her mid thirties. She was wearing a dark blue halter dress. Fabian turned his head and our eyes briefly met. He jerked his head back around so fast it's a miracle that it didn't go flying off his neck.
I shook my head, wondering why he was acting like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He could have mentioned when we talked earlier that he was attending the concert with a friend I would have understood. It wasn't like he was my man.
Leesha whispered, “Chile, that’s the best he can do? And no that bitch didn’t leave the house looking like a stank ass hoe. That trick skinnier than an ant’s dick.”
I shook my head and tried my best not to laugh at the nutcase. Skinny Minnie was obviously doing something right because at least she had a man.
We made it to the auditorium and showed our tickets at the door. The inside of the place was huge. Fluorescent lights hung down from the ceiling, casting a festive glow over the concertgoers. Nearly all of the four thousand seats were already occupied, although forty-five minutes remained before show time. We found our front row seats and settled in.
Forty-five minutes later the curtains opened and Keith Sweat swaggered out on the stage with the microphone in his hand singing his throw back song, ‘Nobody.’
I could hardly breathe while watching him sing. He glanced down at Leesha and smiled.
“Yo’ smile is so pretty you can make the sun shine at night,” Leesha yelled out to him, embarrassing the hell out of me.
After the third song, I was breathless from his voice. The ladies were mesmerized and a bunch of them were standing at the stage reaching out for him to touch their hands looking like some straight groupies, and my cousin was one of them.
I covered my face with my hand when she eased her black thong down, whirled it around like a hula-hoop, and tossed it on stage. Her undies landed on the tip of Keith’s shoe. I was so embarrassed I could have died, but I laughed it off and enjoyed the show. It was exactly what I needed to forget about my problems with Blunt.
Me Or Him
Blunt
Hoes like Leesha were always running their dick suckers about what they would do if they were Mo’. I just laughed at that shit ‘cause they weren’t her, and they could never be.
My boo was a pretty, high yellow broad that didn’t have to stay in the mirror for hours like most broke down welfare hoes to be a bad bitch. Mo' woke up out of her sleep looking better than the average bitch looked after spending all day at the hair salon. I didn't wanna lose my dime piece over a few pennies.
Some of the things she hurled at me the other day hit me like a forearm to the back of the head. Her anger had come out of left field. I mean, I was fucking up, but damn. Love should be love. Unconditionally.
The ying yang that Leesha had popped meant nothin'; that hoe always had something slick to say. She could whisper in Mo's ear 24/7, and it still wouldn't keep her from coming back to me. I had something that no meddling ass cousin could replace. My dick game was stupendous, and my mack game was just as potent.
In the bedroom, I could make a woman forgive all my sins, but I didn’t rely on that to keep Mo’ hooked like a fish on a line. I made love to her body, but I fucked her mind. She wasn’t going anywhere. Leesha was wasting her time tryin' to get her to walk away.
Bitches like Leesha fronted like they didn’t put up with no shit from a nigga, but that’s some bullshit unless they only fucked with lames. ‘Cause every street nigga takes his lady through some pain. Real talk, I did what I did because at the end of the day, Mo’ wasn’t going nowhere. She couldn’t leave me alone ‘cause I was the type that couldn’t be replaced. So anybody in her ear with an opinion could just swallow it ‘cause it wasn’t gonna change shit.
A few days after Mo' put me out, I rapped my knuckles against her front door and waited for her to answer. As soon as she saw me, she would realize how much she missed a nigga. I would carry her up to the
bedroom and put the dick to her so good she would go out shopping for me the next day.
Mo’ answered the door in a cranberry red BCBG tube dress that showed off her thighs and six inch silver stilettos that put her almost eye level with me. Her 'fit was accessorized with the Christian Louboutin purse that I had bought her a month ago. She was dressed to step out.
I blocked the doorway with my body. "Where the fuck do you think you’re goin’ all dressed up and looking sexy?”
Mo’ tried to push pass me, but I was too strong for her to move. “I don’t owe you an explanation,” she said.
“Don’t play yaself. Answer me or you’re not goin’ nowhere,” I threatened and lightly pushed her backwards with the palm of my hand.
She looked directly in my eyes with a serious expression, scratched the back of her neck with her French tipped nails, and tried to shit on me. “Well, since you’re all in my business, I’m meeting a friend for a few drinks.”
“Male or a female?”
"I don't have to answer that. Move, Blunt." She attempted to push pass me again. This time I shoved her back in the house.
"Answer me or you're not going anywhere," I repeated. Over her shoulder, her messy ass cousin was tuned in.
“Blunt, are you on drugs or something? You know better than to put your hands on me," fumed Mo'.
"Answer my question," I demanded. The scowl on my face was etched in stone.
"I don't have to answer you."
"Ok, that means you're going out with a nigga. Shawdy, you got me fucked up.” I stepped up in her space.
Like a phantom, Leesha ran up and stepped in front of Mo'. "You better think again!" she defended her.
I looked from her to Mo’. “You better tell yo’ cousin to stay out of my business before I punch her in her shit.” I was tired of Leesha's mouth, fa real.
“Move out of my way, Blunt, and leave my cousin alone. At least someone cares about me because you certainly don’t.” She pushed her body against mine trying to force me out of the way, but she failed.
“Nah. I ain’t moving. You fuckin’ this nigga you're going to meet?”
So Gone Page 6