by Hannovah
“It was great. I ended up playing poker with Max and some of the guys last night.”
Yesterday’s poker activity was not what I was really interested in, and neither was Brandon, I was sure. But I knew Stephen would not volunteer that information easily; I would have to pry it out of him. And furthermore, both men at the table would have preferred if I were not there, so they could talk freely.
But I had to know about the club and Ashley, so I pressed him. “How was King Solomon’s?”
Stephen’s eyes made a sling-dang between me and his dad. Then he said, “Mom, I didn’t think you would want to know about that.”
“I don’t,” I lied, “but since both of you are suffering from respectfulness, I thought it best to jump-start the conversation.”
“Well, it was a very nice place. Clean and fancy. Some of those places could be dingy looking, but this one had some standards. The DJ was good too, playing hip-hop mostly.”
Brandon rubbed his brow and said calmly with his eyes to the ceiling, “How very exciting.”
Stephen looked his father fixed in the eyes and asked, “Well, what do you want to know, Dad?”
“What about the girls, man?” He reached for a slice of french toast. “Were they any good?”
“At what they do? Yes, for the most part. But I was a little disappointed that it was not a real strip club.”
“What you mean?” Brandon asked. “If Ashley works there, it has to be a strip club.”
“Yes, it is. But it is partial nude. I was expecting to see the girls take . . .” Stephen’s respect for me surfaced again, and he was at a loss for words.
“Let me help you,” I said, “To see them take off everything?”
Stephen smiled.
Brandon explained, “That’s right. Ashley could only work at partial nude clubs because Joshua made her promise him that.”
“Good for him,” Stephen said, pouring more juice into his glass. “But no wife of mine will be working at any strip club – partial or full nude.”
“I’m so, so glad to hear you say that Stevie. Did you see Ashley?” I asked.
“Yes. But I didn’t recognize her at first because she was wearing a long, brown wig.” He bit into his omlette.
“Well?” impatient Brandon prompted, “Was she any good?”
“Aahhh,” Stephen contorted his face. “Not in my book.”
“Why not?” Brandon was all ears.
“Well, she does not have good rhythm – she was moving out of beat a lot. And her body ain’t all that.”
Brandon seemed surprised. “There must be something good about her because she’s making good money all the time.”
“She had good costuming and could work the pole. And she works the audience well when she’s off stage, soliciting business non-stop. She worked that floor the whole time that we were there. But, on stage she isn’t a good dancer, at least not in my opinion.”
“So did you give her any business?” I asked.
“She came over to me one time, and for manners sake, I humored her and gave her five dollars.”
“Was Joshua there?” I asked, still trying to understand Joshua’s mind.
“Yes he was.” Stephen stopped eating to study his father. “Dad, do you know that Joshua is a big fan of yours?”
Brandon raised an eyebrow and smiled.
Stephen continued. “He had one beer too many over at Max’s and so, on the drive home he was really talkative – mostly about you. He admires you a lot. I mean, I admire you too, but you are the only dad that I have or want to have; Joshua doesn’t seem to care much for his own father. I asked him and he said, ‘I guess Daddy is okay, but Ray is really cool.’ That was a bit scary because I could tell it was not just the alcohol talking.”
“Yes, even when sober he’s like that,” I divulged. “Ever since he was born . . . it’s like there is some strong spiritual connection between them.”
Brandon only chewed and smiled.
“Dad, are you sure he’s not really your son?”
“Boy, don’t be silly. I don’t really feel that connection your Mom is talking about, but he does. He’s really a good kid and I’ll do whatever I could to assist him. I know that Harris would’ve done the same for you or Maxwell.” Then Brandon returned to what really interested him. “So, getting back to last evening – you said you were disappointed about the place being partial? Were the girls boring?”
Stephen took a sip. “The truth is – I’m not a strip club kind of guy; I go if the guys are going. I volunteered to go yesterday because I was curious about Ashley. And no, the girls weren’t boring. Even though it was partial, I noticed that the girls were willing to show all. They’re supposed to keep on the bottoms, and they do, but when money’s flowing, they find clever ways to show you what you want to see.”
I thought, Oh my gosh. God took his time and energy to protect a woman’s private part from prying eyes. He placed it underneath her. He tucked it between her legs, and covered it with hair. And these girls are just blatantly exposing it for whosoever’s willing to pay. Lord have mercy!
“Ahem,” I cleared my throat. “Stephen, could you do the dishes please?”
A respectful “Yes Mom” followed while he exchanged smiles with his father.
I began clearing the table. Note to self: Never have such a discussion with a son again.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Brandon and I got dressed.
We were heading out to the Opa Locka Hialeah flea market like we did on many a Saturday morning. I was grateful to have this grand outdoor market only a few miles from our home, where I could find a great variety of fruits and veggies that I could not find in the mainstream grocery stores.
The Brownings knocked on our back door and I allowed them in. Tree had already left for New York, and the young ones said that they were simply coming by to hang out. When I told them that we were about to go to the flea market, they asked if they could join us. I agreed.
As we made our way to the Volvo, we encountered the mailman who was about to drop off our mail. Brandon relieved him of it and began to peruse each piece. “These are for you Josh,” he said, handing Joshua two envelopes.
Brandon placed our mail into the mailbox for later because he is the type of man who does not like to go back into the house once he has already left.
We drove off and I heard Joshua in the back seat tearing open his envelopes. “Aay-aay!” he exclaimed for all to hear. “My military back-pay – well it’s about time.”
Ashley said, “Let me see honey.” Then I heard her say with excitement, “Oh honey you can pay off my Tracker for me it’s only twelve hundred dollars.”
A sudden silence took over the back seat. Brandon glanced in the rearview mirror obviously sensing, like I did, that something was happening or was about to happen.
“What’s the matter honey?” Ashley asked her husband.
“I don’t understand you,” Joshua began. “Last month, in just three days, you made enough money to pay off your car note . . . and I told you to. But you refused. Instead you took a mini vacation. And now you want me to –”
“Listen what I do with my money is my business I work hard for my money and will spend it however I want.”
Geez! How bold, I thought to myself.
“Well, that goes for me too,” Joshua retorted.
Silence ensued behind me again, and I just couldn’t get that three days and twelve hundred dollars out of my head. I started to wonder if I was not in the wrong profession. Well, it’s too late for me now.
We were half-way to our destination when Brandon decided to break the quietness by turning on the radio.
A little further down the road, I turned around to talk to the Brownings and found them sitting like strangers, each one as close to their door as possible and looking out of their window. I ventured, “Why not come by for lunch tomorrow. If I get good coconuts today, I’ll make some ice-cream.”
Joshua looked at me and
nodded, but Ashley kept staring out her window.
When we got to the flea market and parked, Brandon suggested, “You guys don’t have to stick with us if you don’t want to. We could meet back here in an hour or so.”
Joshua said, “Okay. Call us when you’re heading back to the car.”
As the couple walked away, I allowed Brandon to peek, just as other men were doing, at Ashley’s exposed and jiggling butt-cheeks.
I knew this flea market like I knew my backyard and I was familiar with many of the vendors too. So what really took up most of my time was my searching for good dried coconuts – the ones in which you can hear the water swishing around when you shake them – Yvette taught me well. I found some eventually, so in about half an hour we were through, and Brandon notified Joshua.
Ashley was still pouting when they approached us with their single bag of shopping that they eventually placed in the trunk along with ours. Then the couple resumed their distant positions in the backseat of our car, and if it was not for the radio, it would have made for an extremely uncomfortable return journey.
Almost to home, Joshua finally broke. “Okay babe. I’ll pay off your car note.”
“For real honey?”
“Yeah.”
I heard a flurry of activity in the backseat and I took a peak as Brandon did the same in the rearview mirror.
Ashley was now seated on Joshua’s lap and covering him with kisses. “Oh I love you so much honey,” she purred.
I was glad for the reunion, although I felt that Josh had caved in too quickly. The poor boy was weak towards her.
As we turned into our street, he said, “Babe, I hope you don’t mind, but I want you to sign an I.O.U. please. I need the money back in three months.”
Suddenly there was another shuffling in the backseat, and again I took a look. Ashley had left her husband’s lap and had scooted back over to her side of the car.
“What’s the matter don’t you trust me?” she asked, her voice almost crying.
“Babe, I . . .”
“You call yourself my husband and you can’t help me out when I need it I was supporting you for months my hands and feet all fucking messed up while your ass is at home not working and now when I ask for help you want me sign a fucking piece of paper fuck you I’m not signing shit the only thing I want to sign are the divorce papers.”
Brandon traded glances with me. Thank God we reached home. The four doors opened simultaneously, and Ashley was the first to get out. She slammed the car door and marched away to the villa without looking back, cuss words trailing behind her. Shaking his head, Joshua took his shopping bag out of our trunk and followed her.
Yvette was washing her car in her driveway and she paused, appalled by Ashley’s attitude and language. She mouthed to me from the distance, “What’s up?”
Embarrassment gripped me, so all I did was shrug I don’t know with my shoulders.
Brandon, disgusted with them, I was sure, grabbed up most of our shopping bags from the trunk and went inside our home.
I was taking the rest of our bags out when Yvette left her car-washing and came over to talk to me. “Edna , me don’t want to step out of mih bound, but me have to tell yuh . . . those youngsters are becoming a nuisance.”
“I know,” I said, leaning my back against the Volvo.
“My bedroom is right next to your guesthouse, and some nights them wake me up with them banging and cussing. I had to move to the other side of mih house to get some sleep.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“Me haven’t called the police because of you and Brandon,” she said. Then she bumped shoulders with me. “Y’all have been my best neighbors throughout the years.”
“Thank you.”
As we spoke, Ashley’s voice penetrated the walls of the villa, “Hit me! Hit me mother fucker!”
Yvette’s eyes widened. “Oh, muh-God. How much longer them will be here?” she asked.
I sighed, “Their lease is up in the summer. But hopefully we can persuade them to leave before then.”
Suddenly a loud, crashing noise came from the villa. Then Ashley screamed.
“I’ll talk to you later, Yvette! I have to go!”
I abandoned Yvette and hustled through our back gate in time to see Brandon entering the villa. I dropped my parcels on a bench under D Luv Joint and continued on, but I had to stop at the opened glass front door. The thing looked like a gigantic spider’s web. It was shattered. And so was I.
“Come on! Stop it!” Brandon yelled.
I saw Brandon approach Joshua who had jacked Ashley up face-first against a wall with her hands pinned behind her. She was moaning, and I didn’t know if it was from pain or anger.
Brandon tapped Joshua on his back, “Let her go, Josh.”
Joshua released her. “Shit!” he hissed, breathing heavily.
Then Brandon slipped his two hundred pounds in between them.
Joshua backed away, almost tripping over a crock pot that lay on the floor between him and me. Shaking his head in regret, he left the house and took a seat on the apron of the pool. There he rested his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands like a worried man.
“Aahh it’s hurting the mother fucker made me break my shoulder,” Ashley lamented.
Brandon had led her to a seat, and she was nursing her left shoulder. But she aimed her head towards the open door and yelled, “I don’t know why I’m still with a fucking wimp like you you’re an asshole I should have divorced you when I had the chance and kept my ass up in Daytona by now I would have found a real man who could help me you are nothing but a fucking loser!”
I decided to approach and check out her shoulder, but she mustered her body out of the couch and brushed past me to poke her head out the door. “You’re an asshole a real man would stay and see if his wife was okay my shoulder’s hurting I’m sure it’s broken but you don’t even fucking care!”
Joshua got up and walked away, out of sight.
“Let me see that shoulder,” I said, touching it gently.
“Aaah no it hurts like hell I’ll have to go to the emergency room.”
Glancing at her shoulder and comparing it to the other one, I noticed that it was red and swollen. “Maybe I should take you there now,” I suggested.
“If it gets worse I’ll go and Joshua will have to pay that bill and he will also have to pay to fix your door because he made me do it he’s such an . . .”
I tuned her out. Even the Daytona 500 race drivers stopped to refuel and change tires, but Ashley never stops. My ears needed a rest, so I said to the rambler, “Call me if you need me.”
We left.
“I’ll have to give them notice to leave,” Brandon sighed as he helped me unpack and put away our goods. “This is getting out of hand. Josh could have gotten himself into big trouble if I wasn’t here.”
“Perhaps,” I responded, weary with the whole thing. “Ray, I had enough for now. I just want to forget about those two for a while.”
“Me too, Eddie.” He went into the living room and after a few moments he returned. “Joshua is out in the street, leaning on his car, taking a smoke. I’m going out to talk to him.”
I was like, whatever.
I heard Brandon leave, but in less than a minute, I heard two sets of feet shuffling into the living room. I peeped and saw him and Joshua, each taking a seat.
So much for peace and quiet. I remained in the kitchen preparing lunch.
“So you sure you okay, man?” I heard Brandon ask.
Joshua took his time to answer. “Yeaaah. I’m sorry for all the noise and mess,” he said softly and sincerely. “I need to apologize to Edna too.”
Then Brandon asked, “So how did my glass door manage to get cracked?”
“Ashley. She’s really crazy. She swung the crockpot at me and I ducked. It flew out of her hand and hit the door.”
“Well it has to be replaced.”
“Yes, we’ll take care o
f it soon.”
“She was complaining about her shoulder. Did you hurt her?”
“No,” Joshua answered quickly. “The pot bounced off the door and hit her on the shoulder.”
“Do you think it injured her?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care. It could be dislocated, broken, fractured or . . . or whatever, I don’t give a damn. All I know is that she will be paying to replace that door.” There was silence. Then Joshua said, “Thanks for restraining me because I might have hurt her. She has no reasoning sometimes.”
“Listen, Josh. I didn’t envisage this type of thing when I allowed you all to live here. Sorry, but I’m giving you guys a month’s notice to leave.”
“Don’t worry with all that, Ray . . . because this marriage is over.”
“Ah-hah?” Brandon didn’t believe that, and neither did I.
Then Joshua’s phone rang, but he did not answer it.
“Ashley wants a divorce and so do I. But she will have to get the lawyer to prepare the papers, and I’ll sign. I’m not spending any money on that right now.”
“Josh, the girl may have some mental issues. You never know, a pill could cure her lack of reasoning. You must look into that.”
“I’m not looking into shit. Right now all I feel for her is resentment.” There was another pause. “Ray,” Joshua sounded exhausted, “I could put up with the stripping, the arguments and fights, but I cannot put up with this constant threat of divorce. I went through that before with Joanne and that gets stale. I can’t take it. I feel to pack up all of her stuff when she’s not there and leave it outside the front door.”
“Nooo. Don’t do that.” Brandon echoed my sentiments. She might break every window in the little house, in retaliation.
“Ray, could I stay here tonight?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks, I will be back . . . not too late.”
When Joshua closed our front door, I went into the living room and peeped through the window at him. He seemed like a tired old man as he drifted out to his car.
“Ray, I just don’t get it. The boy has admitted that he made a mistake by marrying Ashley. He attempted to fix the mistake by filing for a divorce. Why did he take her back? It’s just one trouble after another, after another. Give me a male perspective. Is it the sex?”