by Love Belvin
“We didn’t want to give you an opportunity to avoid this conversation,” Monica tried to explain.
“I know you haven’t known me for long, but I have no reason to run from confrontation, especially from those who I care about.”
“I’m glad you mentioned that,” Taaliba finally chimed in. “It didn’t seem like you cared for much Monica last night, considering the tone you took with her.”
“I took the same tone with her that I took with you and my husband’s much-adored mother. I have no reason to single Monica out. I feel like you two haven’t taken these restrictions serious enough, and you’re too old to be complaining about being bored. Not even Ivana and Iesha have reasons to complain of boredom here.”
“I’m talking about what you said regarding my commitment to Iban,” Monica clarified.
My head reared and eyes blinked. “No. I think you covered the extent of your commitment to him, Monica.”
“And I think you’re judging her when it’s not your place to?” Taaliba switched weight on her hips.
Again, my head shifted backward. This morning wasn’t the best one to try me on, and especially tag team me. Just like with Sadik and his father—because Iban, I never got the opportunity to level—I needed to settle my footing or my sisters-in-law would lose respect for me.
“I think she put the obvious out there all by herself. I also believe they were depending on Sadik and me to give the convenient ‘hell no, he can’t come’ to make them feel better about their decisions. That’s not cool on any front.”
“It’s not like that.” Monica turned her head away.
“Then what is it really, Monica? I’m no angel. I don’t like your husband very much, but I am human and realistic about his condition. The man is powerless—pitiful is more like it. He can’t be a part of this powerful, insulated family one day and isolated the next because of a decision you all knew he was capable of making.” My eyes brushed against both women. “You all loved and claimed Iban when he was a deviant, intimidating me; so why not continue to love him through him being him? I don’t have to, but one thing I believed about family, until this incident, is they stick together through correction, too.”
“And that’s where I think you’re overstepping,” Monica interjected. “Who are you to tell me, as a wife who has suffered through those years that man acted as a tyrant, how to react when I’m finally fed up?”
“Exactly!” Taaliba’s arms flayed in the air.
“Then make a call,” I urged her. “It honestly doesn’t matter to me which one you make; I won’t judge you and will still respect you! But you doing what you’ve been doing around here will make more important people than me lose respect for you.”
“What are you saying?” Taaliba charged.
Monica’s entire frame whipped away from me, shame coating her before my eyes.
And apparently, Taaliba’s, too. I saw when revelation hit her and Taaliba’s face fell.
“Monica,” Taaliba called out to her. “What in the hell is she talking about?” Her glower hit me. “What are you talking about, B?”
“About the Ellis cheating curse that you, who claims to hate how your parents and Iban conduct their marriages, are clearly repeating.”
Her eyes blossomed wide and palm met her chest. “Me?”
“Yes, you.” I cocked my head to the side again. “You think that alpha brown man of yours who loves for you to suck on his dick, increasing his obsession for you, is going to be okay when he finds out you’re entertaining a woman?”
Taaliba’s forehead creased. “Who told you that lie?”
I began toward the house. “I can’t do this,” I mumbled, but loud enough for them to hear. “Listen, before you guys decide to rally against me, make sure you show up with strategy and ammunition.” I turned toward them. “Oh, and honesty. I get keeping some things to the chest, but you can’t come for me when you’re sloppy about your dirt.”
“You have dirt, too, B!” Taaliba warned.
“And what dirt is that?” I braved. “Me sneaking off the compound for church?”
“Yes!” Taaliba shouted. We now had Monica’s attention. “And that one time to go to the gym. You don’t think anyone knows you did it two weeks ago? You left out in workout clothes, and came back with messy curls and a stained shirt.”
My heart dropped to my throat, but not totally from fear of being found out; from relief of her possibly believing it was a one-time occurrence, something I didn’t have any reason to believe Sadik knew about.
“Me sneaking out to church—something your brother knows about now—and one session at the gym doesn’t damage this family.” I hoped she wouldn’t say different. “Yes, it puts us and others at risk.” My eyes fell in shame. Sadik’s rebuke still stung. “But I’ve not been disloyal to my husband, or boyfriend for that matter.” My eyes swept between the two. “All I’m saying is if I know this, Monica, don’t you think the family does, too, or will soon?”
I pivoted to my other sister-in-law. “And Taaliba, I couldn’t give a shit if you’re gay or straight. It doesn’t change who you are as a person. But it matters to Danny. And while I know there’s no other alpha on this earth like Sadik—not even his father, contrary to what most believe—I don’t doubt there will be hell to pay once Danny finds out. So figure it out instead of tag-teaming little ol’ me with Monica. She’s a big girl: she needs no help compartmentalizing her guilt. She sure didn’t have any getting into her mess.”
At that, I took off.
“Damn, her glow up is real!” Brenda gushed over Randi’s shoulder into her phone.
“You know my cousin went to school with her. Right?” Randi shared.
“For real?” Missy, Tasche’s colleague and friend, asked.
Randi nodded while scrolling down an IG page. “Yeah. Well...” She rolled her eyes and head. “We grew up like cousins. She lived down in the fuckin’ woods in South Jersey, but came up in the summers and on spring breaks, and shit. When my best friend, who I call my cousin, went to get ol’ girl one time, she said it was mad trailer parks down there.” Her hearty laughter was contagious. “I thought them shits was made the fuck up. She was like, nah. That bitch really lived in one, too!”
“Who?” Tasche asked. “Tori McNabb?”
“Nah,” Randi answered. “My bestie who was cousins with the one that went to school with ol’ girl. Keep the fuck up with the story!”
We belted in laughter. Randi was on one tonight. We’d been at the hotel suite I’d reserved for us. I had the Ellis kitchen whip us up pans of foods, including sweets to help the girls absorb the alcohol and weed I knew they’d be consuming. I only asked that they were discrete with the pot and kept it away from me. That meant them going out on the balcony for thirty minutes earlier and leaving me alone in wait. Everyone’s eyes were low, pink, and tight. Missy’s were even pink from the indo.
“Well, bitch,” Tasche started, her arms in the air defensively with a plastic up in one hand. “You on Tori’s page, I thought you had some insider shit!”
We laughed at that, too.
“Oh, shit!” Randi shouted, snapping the fingers of her available hand. “Y’all shut the fuck up. You remember this?”
I leaned in so I could hear, but didn’t recognize the song.
“The fuck is that?” Brenda asked before draining the last of her cup.
“That’s that shit, yo!” Tasche exclaimed, rocking side to side on the sofa. “Yo, B, rock that shit on ya Tidal. Gimme ya phone.” She stood, taking my cell from the coffee table. “Put ya code in.” She handed the phone to me.
I laughed and tapped for it to recognize my face then handed it back to her. She went to the Tidal app and typed in a song.
“This bitch sangin’ this shit!” Brenda croaked, still peering over Randi’s shoulder. “I remember now. That’s that old school right there!”
I caught her tap Randi with her shoulder then toss her chin over to me. Randi glanced my way and snick
ered. I’d lie if I said it didn’t annoy me. Once again, Randi had been acting shady toward me. It started when I offered to pick her up. She said Brenda was with her and they’d get here how they could unless I wanted to get them and ride them around to get a few things. I was no cab. No way would I have Sadik’s driver chauffeuring them around Paterson. So I declined. Then when she arrived, Randi didn’t hug me. When I opened the door to let them in, she offered a drily hello as she carried in a box of liquor and beverages. I knew then what type of night this would be and decided to make the best of it for the sake of Tasche.
A song began to pour from the portable speaker I brought.
“That’s that shit!” Brenda stood and began swaying to the intro, which was just music.
Then she and Tasche began singing with the woman on the track. Missy laughed while snapping her fingers in a conversant manner. Randi stood and began dancing.
My nose turned up, not recognizing the tune. “What’s this?”
“It ain’t Somalian!” Randi blurted, being silly.
Or facetious?
“You mean ‘Somali’?” I lifted a tight smile to my face.
Brenda and Tasche both sang at the same time, “You’re that lady’s husband!”
That’s when I began to pay attention to the lyrics. A woman was torn over cheating with someone’s husband. She still wanted him, but knew it was wrong.
Again, I asked, “Who is this?”
“That’s that bitch, Shirley, yo!” Tasche finally answered.
“Shirley.” I nodded with sarcasm.
“Shirley Murdock,” Brenda expounded. “Your momma ain’t never blast Ms. Shirley on Saturday mornings?”
“Or after she got fucked over by another fuck boy!” Tasche added. The two women laughed as they slapped hands.
Randi dropped onto the sofa across the coffee table from me. “Shit. It ain’t have to be your mother that get down like that. It could be you.” She huffed. “I know my ass been the other woman. I was ready to do it again recently, too. Right, Brenda?” She laughed alone.
That wouldn’t have struck me as odd if Brenda’s expression didn’t drop from warm nostalgia to pure shock. Her eyes moved between the side of Randi’s face to mine. Randi’s regard was a daring one as it shot bullets to me. Quickly deciding to let it go, I rolled my eyes away and hopped up to get my phone from the coffee table, where Tasche placed it after selecting the song.
“I’m not doing this tonight,” I mumbled to myself.
People grieve in their own way. Lord knows I had my fair share of mourning and wanted grace with it each time.
“You got something to say, say it?” My eyes rolled up to find Randi’s head bobbing while her eyes were now red and wide on me.
My face tightened. “You drunk, Randi?”
“No, I ain’t drunk. I just don’t like people whispering shit under they breath. You got something to say, fuckin’ say it.”
“I said I’m not doing this with you tonight!” I made sure my words were clear.
“Do what? Judge me?”
Why was I being accused of that again today?
“Judge you for what?”
“For fuckin’ somebody else husband,” she answered.
“Randi, so long as it ain’t my husband, I couldn’t give two shits who you sleep with. I’ve never judged you.”
“Oh, you would care if only you knew!” She laughed.
Laughed. In my face. My friend attempted to torment me by being suggestive and laughing in my face. My patience waned by the minute.
“Just chill the fuck out, yo!” Tasche begged, pouring herself another drink.
“Yeah,” Brenda agreed, looking at Randi and communicating something strange with her eyes.
Why?
“What have I ever done wrong to you?” I finally asked. “You’ve been extra shady with me for over a year now. As a matter of fact, since I met Sadik. Are you the crab type of bitch, trying to claw me down, Randi? The woman who can’t see another have her happily ever after, even if she’s your friend?”
“I ain’t never hate on a bitch in my life.” She kissed her fingertips and shot her open palm into the air. “That’s on my uncle! That’s why I ‘on’t get why you bring him up like you better than me. Is it because my nigga got killed? Ask Sadik who did it.”
My eyes leaped over to Tasche, whose expression was a hybrid of shock and confusion. I took a deep breath, feeling my body heat all over with uncontrollable anger. I didn’t want to go there with Randi. I didn’t come here with that type of energy. Right now, I wanted nothing more than to be at Elliswoods Palace in the bed with my son, not here with a drunk and nasty Randi.
“I never said I was better than you in any way, and I would never speak against Ricky, Randi. You know that. But what I would like to know is why haven’t you shown the same respect? What is your problem with Sadik? Tell me!” I screamed. “Once and for all! What?”
“Nah.” She laughed. “The right question is who husband I was gonna fuck last month—”
“Oh, hell no!” Tasche yelped, taking a defensive posture.
Brenda appeared so panicked, she could cry. “Chill, Randi.”
When my gaze met Randi’s again, I saw the devil in her eyes. In an instant, I knew she was referring to Sadik.
“I think it’s time for you to say whatever it is you’ve got to say,” I advised calmly, welcoming her to it. “And if it’s that you were gonna fuck my husband, you should try again.”
The room hushed to a silence. It became so quiet, I could hear my pulse race.
“How much of his bread you wanna put up?” Randi’s grin was pure evil. She tapped into her phone. I swallowed involuntarily, uncannily nervous. I went for my bag, pulling it to my hip as I waited. Randi turned the face of her phone my way. “I’ll let you see it for ya damn self.”
It was blurred and a bit smoky, but I recognized a VIP section of Tiffany’s club, Pulse. Then a familiarly suited man was clear, sitting next to Randi. They were close, but also exchanging words in a club I could assumed played loud music, explaining their proximity. But when Randi turned the phone to swipe to the next picture, I saw her hand inappropriately on his thigh. She turned the phone to swipe again. The third photo was of Sadik blowing out smoke while passing her a blunt. Randi snatched her phone wearing the biggest cat that ate the canary grin.
“When was that?” I asked helplessly, steeping in fury.
“I told you a month ago. It was at the Pulse anniversary joint,” she answered casually. “See.” Randi reached over the coffee table again, showing me another photo.
It was an IG post of Tiffany in Sadik’s arm on a red carpet. Her smile was priceless, eyes filled with palpable joy. This time, I thought to catch the date before Randi pulled the phone away again. Per the timestamp, it was the night Sadik should have been in Atlanta. The time his return home was delayed. A gamut of deceitful motives raced through my mind.
“Why are you doing this to me?” I wanted to cry.
Betrayal was as physical as a gut blow.
She couldn’t stop giggling, but I suddenly got the impression that more than Randi found this situation funny, she was nervous about dropping the bomb. Yet, that revelation eased nothing. She’d still betrayed me.
“All I’m saying is Sadik a nigga like the rest of them.” She pointed at me from head to toe. “He done got bored already. You knocked up and married and the honeymoon’s over. I tried to warn you.”
“The fuck?” I could hear Tasche hiss, but then I couldn’t.
“And you had to prove it?”
“Nah. This was a little more about survival,” she explained. “I woulda fucked Sadik, but he’s an arrogant asshole and said no. I had Brenda take the flicks ‘cause I know your naïve ass wouldn’t believe me when I told you.”
“But he said no.” I noted.
She shrugged, choosing to gaze into her phone. “He’s a ass. It is what it is.”
“He’s an ass because you�
�re not his type?” I grated, fighting back the stinging tears. My throat burned viciously, stomach toiled. “And he wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole?”
Tasche and Brenda were shooting words of letting it go over us, but I couldn’t pay that any attention as my hand clutched inside of my bag.
“Don’t go there, Bilan.” She shook her head hard left to right. “Don’t do it.”
“Do what? Speak the truth, which is that a man like Sadik would never find a chick like you attractive enough to take to B-Way Burger, you whore?”
Explosively, Randi jumped to her feet, leaned over the table, and pointed her finger directly to my face. “I was attractive enough to let that nigga put his dick in my mouth. I was attractive to him for him to nut the fuck down my throat, bitch! Sadik killed Ricky because of me. Bet ya dumb ass ain’t know that.” I didn’t, and it caused my head to swirl, kicking up nausea. “Ricky kept fuckin’ with him ‘cause he never got over what me and Sadik did! I’m that type of bitch. Don’t you ever try to put me in the gutter. I will slap the living shit out of you!”
Her lime green, coffin-shaped index fingernail was inches from my face.
I was lightheaded when I whispered, “When was this, Randi?”
“Way before he met your dumb ass. And I bet you still don’t believe that I did it,” she sneered. “Why the fuck you think Ricky ain’t never want me around him like at his birthday party? Ricky was about to body that nigga when he found out.”
“Why didn’t he?” My voice was so soft; I felt like I was having an out of body experience.
“What?”
“Why didn’t Haitian Ricky kill Sadik?”
“I ‘on’t know.” Her face tightened. “Why would you ask some bullshit like that?”
I jumped to my feet and palmed her face, pushing her backward into the sofa. The girls gasped, yelped, and squealed, leaping into action. I swiftly shot around the table, pulling my gun from my purse, and pointed it centimeters from her nose.
“Because that’s what I feel I need to do to you after learning this.”
∞24∞
With a pounding chest and wounded heart, I stood in front of my friend for many years, talking myself off the cliff. The barrel of my gun was centimeters from her face, and my decided hands didn’t tremble. Pulling the trigger would take the effort of a blink of an eye.