by Risqué
Drae laughed. “Spare me.”
“That’s what I’m talking about, Drae. You can’t never do shit for me! Think ’cause you teachin’ them special-ed kids that you can talk to me crazy.”
“I don’t teach special ed, you crack fiend! I’m a high-school guidance counselor.”
“Whew weee!” He flung his wrist. “I’m impressed. Guidance counselor, special-ed teacher, who gives a fuck? You just better be about them auditions.”
“Whatever,” she said as she walked out of the room.
“Check it.” He followed behind her as she went into the bathroom. “Tomorrow morning you lined up for a gang rape.”
Drae stopped dead in her tracks. “Excuse you?”
“I can see it now.” He ran in front of her and waved his arms in slow motion. “Hassan presents Run-a-Way Train.” He held his fist to his mouth, like he was giving his lips a pound, and started running in place. “That’s some hot shit right there. Booyah! People gon’ be like Where he at? At the top, where he at!” He carried on like a rap song. “At the top…I swear to God I’m ’bout to be on Oprah!”
“I think you’ve lost,” Drae said slowly, “your fuckin’ mind!” She turned on the water and stepped into the shower.
As the organic carrot oil ran all over her body, Drae started thinking about Yuri’s comment and Hassan being on the down-low. She wanted to get over it, but something about it rang true in her mind. She couldn’t figure out if it was the loaded dildo he liked her to fuck him with, the way he flung his wrist or the way he didn’t fuck her in her pussy anymore. Or maybe she was making something out of nothing. Maybe Yuri was hatin’, or maybe Drae was just sick of him walking around as if all that mattered was a big dick and a smile. There was more to life than a freaky fuck, yet it seemed sex was all their marriage consisted of. And sex was not what she married him for. She married him for security. He was rich, owned a mansion in Westchester, chartered private jets, flew all over the world at a moment’s notice. So, she took her black knight and galloped into the sunset, setting her sights on being set for life.
Now Drae felt trapped, caught between X-rated love and bullshit. And she was sick of being phony, desperately trying to fit into Larry Flynt’s version of Barbie and Ken’s cul-de-sac. As far as she was concerned, Hassan never gave a damn about who she really was anyway. For all he knew she was a Brooklyn-born pickaninny turned freak.
“Andrea!” Hassan called her name as if he’d just done some speed. “Hurry yo’ ass up! The party’s all set up downstairs. Now let’s go! After all, it’s my birthday.”
Drae stood at the mirror, fluffing her hair, which was styled in an abundance of Shirley Temple curls. Afterward she walked out of the bathroom stark naked and looked at Hassan as if she dared him to touch.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked her, as he stood fully dressed in cream Versace dress pants and a lavender shirt.
She didn’t open her mouth; instead she kept a steady eye on him as she slipped on her gray pantsuit.
Hassan smiled at her. “You love me, don’t you, Drae?” he said as the doorbell rang.
“Unfortunately”—she opened their bedroom door—“I do.”
Yuri
Yuri sat in her living room, dressed in black dress pants, a black satin shirt that showed an abundance of cleavage, a black-and-white-polka-dot scarf wrapped around the front of her head, and a pair of Manolos. She was smoking a cigarette and looking into the kitchen, wondering when Jeff’s son was going home. His mother was due to come and get him two hours ago and she hadn’t showed. She knew that Jeff and Yuri had made plans to be at Drae and Hassan’s for Hassan’s birthday dinner and on the way there they were supposed to pick up Nae-Nae. But already Nae-Nae had called at least a million times asking what was going on, and Jeff sat in the kitchen looking stupid as he watched his son color the third picture of his mommy marrying his daddy.
“Yuri, baby.” Jeff walked into the living room, sat beside her on the couch, and grabbed her hand. “Baby, I’m sorry.”
“For what, Jeff? What could you possibly be sorry for? Sorry for not listening when I told you she was gon’ do this shit because she always does?” She snatched her hand away.
“Look, Yuri.” Jeff folded his arms across his chest. “What you want me to do? We can still go. We’ll just take Jeff Jr. with us.”
“This is a party for adults not kids! Believe me, he is grown enough.”
“I’m tired of you not liking my son, Yuri.”
“I don’t have to like him!”
“What you want me to do, pay child support and that’s it? Wash my hands of him?!”
“Now we’re getting somewhere! How’s that for a save-your-fuckin’-marriage idea!” Yuri jumped off the couch. What she’d just spat out rang in her ear like a bad tune. She looked at Jeff and thought maybe she’d cut him just a little too deep. After all, it wasn’t the kid’s fault, but it damn sure felt like it. Didn’t Jeff have a right to take care of and spend time with his son? But did he have to keep him every other weekend? Did he have to attend every play, recital and parent-teacher conference? Was it a must that he join the PTA and come home to tell Yuri all about it? Did he have to hang his son’s pictures all over their house? Was that how it was supposed to be? Was anybody sorry that this had happened to her? Or did Jeff’s always wanting a son, and his now having one, make this all good?
“My fault, Jeff.” Yuri walked over to him and placed her arms around his waist. “I know I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Who gives a fuck, Yuri?” He pushed her away. On his way into the kitchen the phone rang.
“Hello?” Yuri answered.
“Where’s my son and his father?” Kathy, Jeff Jr.’s mother, spat.
“Lets clear this up.” Yuri took a deep breath. “Don’t call my house out the side of your mouth no fuckin’ more, clean ya coochie up before you come talking shit to me, you trailer-park bitch! Jeff!” Yuri screamed. “Baby Mama Drama is on the phone. You better catch this skeezer!”
Jeff picked up the line and Yuri held the other end of the receiver to her ear. “You know, Jeff,” Kathy said. “I’m getting really tired of her thinking she can say anything she wants to me. And I know you hear me, Boom’ki-ki, or whatever the hell your fat-ass name is.”
“Unless that’s some shit you plan on saying to my face, then you need to get to the point.”
“I’m not coming to get him until tomorrow. I’m away for the weekend.”
“What, you catching another disease, bitch?!” Yuri spat. “I told you this dizzy bitch was gon’ do this, Jeff!”
“Oh, did I ruin your plans?” Kathy laughed.
Jeff shook his head; he looked at his son, who was still coloring, and patted him on the head. He knew his son’s presence restricted what he could say. “Katherine,” he said sternly, “tomorrow is Monday and we have to work.”
“And so do I, Jeff! Send his stepmother to take him to school!” And she hung up.
“I hope,” Yuri said into the phone, over the dial tone, “that this is worth every drop of that nut you brought to life! Now, I don’t know what you gon’ do, but I’m ready to go.”
“I’ma let that shit you just said slide, ’cause if I think about it too long, I’ma hurt you.” Jeff hung up the phone. “Jr., let’s go, man. We’re going out.”
“What about my mommy, Daddy?”
“She’ll be there to get you from school tomorrow.”
“But I want my mommy.” He began to cry.
“What did I say, Jefferson!” Jeff snapped. Realizing that he’d just taken his frustration out on his son, he turned to him. “Daddy’s sorry, man. I am. Get your coat and let’s go. You’ll see your mommy tomorrow.”
“Okay, Daddy.” He sniffed.
As they headed for the front entrance to step outside, Yuri noticed that Jr.’s coat was hanging off his shoulders, his hat was still in his hands and his nose was running. She took a tissue from her purse and wiped
his nose. “Sweetie,” she said, making an effort to be kind to him, “let me fix you here.” She squatted to her knees and pulled his coat onto his shoulders.
Instantly Jeff’s face brightened up. “Thanks, Yuri.” He stroked her back.
“Let me see your hat, baby.” Yuri took Jr.’s hat from his hands.
Jr. squinted his eyes and snapped at Yuri, “My daddy can do it.” He snatched his hat back. “My mommy said your fat hands were never to touch me.”
Yuri squatted still on her knees for a few seconds before getting up; she had to talk herself out of slapping Jr. to the ground. Then she remembered he wasn’t hers, he was Jeff’s problem.
“He owes me an apology, Jeff.” Yuri stood up.
“Apologize for snatching, Jr.,” Jeff said.
“Snatching?” Yuri said in disbelief. “How about apologize for being disrespectful and not staying in a kid’s place. He’s just five years old.”
“Yuri, please, you’re being emotional again.”
“Emotional?”
“Yes, because you and I both know he was simply repeating what his mother told him.”
“Exactly, and it was disrespectful.” They started walking to their SUV.
“He wasn’t being disrespectful, Yuri,” Jeff insisted as he clicked the remote entry to the Land Cruiser. “He was being a kid.”
Yuri stopped in her tracks and stared at Jeff; he was two minutes away from being gut-punched. She hopped in the SUV and slammed the door. She opened her bag and pulled out her emergency chocolate bar. Whenever she felt like this, eating chocolate and smoking a cigarette somehow soothed her. As she placed a piece of candy in her mouth, Jeff snatched the bar out of her hands. “And you want my son to apologize for calling you fat.”
“You know what, Jeff, fuck you and your whole motherfuckin’ family.”
“Watch your mouth around my child.”
“Is he a child or is he grown? He seems to think he’s my fuckin’ equal.”
“This is crazy, Yuri!”
“Finally we agree; this is crazy.” Yuri had to laugh to keep from crying. After all, somewhere along the line this shit had to be funny.
“As a matter of fact,” Jeff said, taking the candy bar and tossing it out the window and into the street, “you need to go back on your Philly, Boston, Dallas, L.A. or whatever kinda damn weight loss it was, and lose a few more pounds.”
Yuri shot Jeff a nasty look and instead of cussing him out like she wanted to, she was quiet until they picked up Nae-Nae.
Nae-Nae stepped to the truck in a one-piece patent-leather catsuit, with a V dip in the front to showcase his chest hairs and a V dip in the back that stopped at the top of his ass. He wore three-inch-platform knee boots and as he walked his legs swayed from one side to the other. “Y’all niggahs is trippin’,” he announced as soon as he opened the back door. “Here I am ’bout to turn Raphael out—”
“Nae-Nae,” Yuri interrupted him, “please—”
“Ain’t no please. I got needs. I swear I’m so sick of pussies hatin’ on me!”
As Nae-Nae slid in the backseat he saw Jr. sitting there. He couldn’t tell if Jr. was lit up with delight or embarrassment.
“Oh, I’m sorry y’all,” Nae-Nae said as he closed his door. “Nae-Nae got a habit of showin’ his ass.”
“Nice apology, Nae-Nae,” Yuri said sarcastically.
“Wheew, I see somebody in here has a soar ass besides me.”
Yuri turned around. “Would you stop cussin’?”
“Oh yeah, excuse.” Yuri could hear him mumbling, “Pussies is always hatin’ on Nae-Nae.”
After a few minutes of riding, they were all quiet, except for Jr. who kept singing the same verse from The Suite Life of Zack & Cody.
“This lil’ niggah retarded?” Nae-Nae eased up from the backseat and whispered in Yuri’s ear. Yuri, who sat in the front seat, looked at Nae-Nae’s reflection in the flip-down visor’s mirror. She gave him a look for him to cut it out.
Nae-Nae lay back against the seat and Jr. kept singing, this time even louder than before.
Nae-Nae looked at him. “What you singing, man?”
Jr. popped his lips. “I’m singing,” he said with a slight twang that no one seemed to pick up on but Nae-Nae, “The Suite Life”—he clicked his tongue and wiggled his neck—“of Zack & Cody.” As far as Nae-Nae was concerned all that was missing was a two-finger snap and a “How you doing?”
“Whoool, aren’t you a lively lil’ thing. Look at you.” Nae-Nae tapped Yuri on the shoulder. “Ring the alarm!” He gave a snide laugh and batted his eyes at Jr. “I bet you be looking at Zack and Cody every chance you get.”
“I love them!” Jr. said, excited.
“Nae-Nae can tell. Jeff—”
“Yes?”
“I don’t think lil’ daddy over here will be bringing Hannah Montana to your house.”
Yuri whipped around in her seat and looked at Nae-Nae. She wanted to slap him upside the head. He already knew that Jeff didn’t care for him and here he was saying some shit like this. She couldn’t wait to tell Drae about this. “If you don’t shut the fuck up!” she mouthed to Nae-Nae.
“Ewww, what?” he mouthed back. “What did I do?”
Yuri shook her head and turned back around. She peeked at Jeff from the corner of her eye and she could tell he was pissed. Yuri was sure she would be hearing about this later.
“Anybody wanna go to a Stacy Lattisaw concert?” Nae-Nae said, cutting through the obvious tension. “Rick Ross is the host and Klymaxx and Johnny Gill gon’ be there showin’ they ass!”
“We been riding too long,” Jeff said.
“What, y’all got something against Stacy Lattisaw?” Nae-Nae snapped. “I betchu lil’ Sanjaya over here would go.”
“Nae-Nae,” Yuri said, “what kinda concert combination is that? Please be quiet.”
“What, people can’t have concerts the way they want to? They got to have them to suit you? Who would you like to sing at your concert, Yuri? Patti Austin and the Weather Girls? Just be quiet, Yuri. You have no sense of music.”
As they pulled up, there were a ton of cars in the driveway. Yuri hated being late and she was pissed that it seemed they were the last ones to arrive.
They could hear the music pumping from the inside onto the steps. Once Drae opened the door, they could tell everyone had been having a good time. There was food everywhere, balloons all over, and everybody there was getting their party on.
“Hey!” Drae said as she greeted her friends. “What took you so long?”
Yuri quickly diverted her eyes to Jeff Jr., who was pouting and standing next to Jeff, and back again. “Oh,” Drae said, knowing that now was not the time to ask what he was doing here.
“Hey, Jeff.” Drae kissed him on the cheek.
“How are you, Drae?” Jeff kissed her back. “Where’s Hassan?”
“Over there.” She pointed to a crowd of some of their friends from high school and a mixture of new ones. Hassan was standing in the center with a drink in his hand and a cigar that she knew was probably laced with cocaine.
“Hassan,” Drae called. “Jeff and Yuri are here.”
Hassan and a few of their friends walked over to greet them. The men gave one another brotherly-love hugs and handshakes, while the women kissed one another on the cheeks. “Oh, wow,” one of their friends, Lisa, said. “Jeff, Yuri, Drae and Hassan never told me you two had a son? Look at him.” Lisa squatted to her knees. “He’s adorable.”
“Thank you,” Yuri said, suddenly feeling like a fool. “Jeff,” Yuri said, “why don’t you take Jr. to the bathroom?”
“I don’t have to go to the bathroom.”
“You look exactly like your mommy, young man.” Lisa pointed to Yuri and then pinched Jr.’s cheek as she rose from the floor.
“That’s not my mommy,” Jr. snapped. He turned around and looked at Jeff. “Daddy, I’m ready to go home!” He stomped his feet.
Everyone standi
ng there, with the exception of Drae, Nae-Nae and Hassan, had a look of surprise on their faces. “I’m sorry, I thought he was your son. Well, who is he? Your godchild?”
“This is my son,” Jeff said, squeezing Jr.’s hand in hopes that the pain would get him to behave.
“Wait.” Lisa frowned. “But you two have been married for six years—Oh, I see—His mother is someone else—Is he adopted?”
“Goddamn, Lisa,” Nae-Nae said. “That’s why yo’ ass couldn’t keep no friends, you just nosey as shit.”
“Lisa,” Yuri said sternly, “this is Jeff’s child. I am not his mother and he is not adopted. Can we please leave it at that?”
“Uhmm, we certainly can…. Well, what does everyone think of this weather? One minute it’s hot and the next minute it’s cold.”
In an effort to knife the tension, everyone else joined the weather conversation, including Jeff. But as Yuri went to speak, she saw Britt walk in Drae’s door with his arm around Troi, his ex-fiancée, stroking her hair and laughing while whispering in her ear.
Yuri did all she could to keep a smile on her face as Troi spotted them and waved. She could tell that Britt was in shock as his eyes scanned the room. They walked over and spoke to everyone.
“Hello!” Troi kissed everyone on the cheek.
“Hey, girl,” Drae said. “I’m so glad you could make it. Britt, how are you?”
“I’m good,” he said, nodding his head yet staring at Yuri. “I had no idea this was your spot, Drae. Nice, very nice.”
Troi laughed. “I had to drag him out the studio. I swear I can never get any time with him because he’s always recording.”
“Excuse me.” Yuri knew if she stood there any longer she was going to either burst into tears or come out swinging. And she didn’t want to make any impulsive decisions she would regret. The only thing that this could do for her was make her face the fact that she couldn’t have an affair and be married forever. Hell, didn’t Jeff get caught? If anything, she owed Britt a thank you—thank you for making her face the inevitable. “This is my jam right here!”
The DJ was playing “One Night Love Affair.” As Yuri took to the floor, she could feel Britt’s eyes on her ass, so she threw it on extra thick. As far as she was concerned, this was the closest he’d ever get to her ass again, so, if anything, he needed to enjoy the view. Yuri was dancing so feverishly that she enticed most of the people to join her in the middle of the floor, and suddenly Hassan and Drae’s dining room became a disco.