Overwhelmed with nervousness and confusion, I quickly said, “I’ll just see you next month,” and gave him a cue to leave.
“Okay, you have a beautiful day, Mrs. Wilson.”
“You, as well,” I said, ushering him to the door. As soon as I closed the door behind him, I exhaled a deep sigh. “I have too much confusion going on in my life right now. Please, send me an intervention, Jesus!” The only person I could think of that I could lean on at the moment was Jesus. I made a mental note to be in the first pew on church this Sunday. It had been months since I saw momma, so I knew she would be too ecstatic to see me at church. Searching my heart of hearts, I knew the Godly thing to do would be to bring my friends with me. They both were fighting their own demons. We all, in one way or another, were fighting demons and losing the battle four to nothing.
Gladys had made her decision to file for a divorce. She said it was not so that she could be with Maverick, but because she needed to be away from James’ abuse. The fact that Maverick was back in the picture didn’t hurt either. I agreed with her decision wholeheartedly, knowing that one day James’s deadly threats would be a reality. When he had finally gone one step too far, raising his hand to her in front of her daughter, she took his death threats seriously and filed for divorce. The last thing she wanted was for James to show Nazaria that men should beat her, or worse, kill her. That was not the way she wanted her children to learn how to love. I was proud of her for making that move. She had never told me that James had been physical with her before, but when he made that drastic mistake, she called me in tears and revealed the whole story. Thank God she was finding the strength to take herself and her children out of that situation.
As far as Rhonda, she was calling less and less, if at all. She apparently was irritated that Titus was spending more and more time at home again. Gladys had not figured out completely that Rhonda and I were on bad terms, but she did tell me that Rhonda had been going back and forth to the doctor with stomach pains. I could care less, because I wasn’t calling Rhonda at all to check up on her. I couldn’t fake the funk about our friendship, no matter how hard I tried.
Chapter 21
Rhonda
“Girl, what is your problem? You have been acting tart towards me all day,” I said, and I know I sounded annoyed. It was the day of Shayla’s birthday party, and she was up in her kitchen acting as if her shit didn’t stink – throwing dip bowls in the sink and moving around me as if she had not heard me say a word all day. “I didn’t have to set up your little stank party, especially if you were going to treat me worse than the help!” I added, letting her know that I didn’t care much at all for her attitude.
Shayla just took a moment to meet my eyes with a steady gaze and an emotionless expression, then continued to prepare the drinks for our waiting guests. I let out a deep breath and grabbed a wine cooler, drinking half of it in one long gulp.
“Whatever…” I huffed under my breath. If she wanted it to be that way, it could be that way. Since Titus had given the phony story about throwing her a party, I reasoned that he had to follow through with it. Titus and I had slaved like big dogs trying to get this “surprise party” organized in one week’s time. He managed to pool together his resources and connections to get the singer Joe to come out and do three songs to set the night off right.
I was on pins and needles, waiting anxiously for Joe to get his sexy butt to the house. I’d been to several concerts for performers I liked before, but I’d never had the opportunity to mix and mingle with a star of his caliber in an impersonal setting. This was going to be a treat! Maybe Joe being here would cheer Shayla’s high-rolling butt up. We were all in the kitchen preparing drinks, because it was the only quiet place in the house that wasn’t swarmed with people. Shayla was walking around in this cute little Baby Phat sleeveless dress number acting as if she didn’t know me from a can of paint. I noticed she talked to Gladys, but to me – nada.
Also, I’d noticed for the past month or so that she really had been on point with keeping her look tight. There had not been one time that I’d seen her that she’d dressed average. My girl really was on point with her shit lately with not one hair strand out of place. I loathed that she’d stepped her game up so much, all of a sudden. Even though I wouldn’t tell her, she definitely had it going on. I knew how much Titus cared about her deep down, and by increasing her sex appeal, I was sure that he was taking notice. The one thing I had always had over her was my raw sexiness, and Shayla was starting to step on my toes – that wasn’t cool.
Another nagging thought was the reason that she’d popped up at my house last week showing out like she had. She obviously was on to something that she wasn’t admitting. A real woman never spills all of her beans when other people expect her to, and Shayla was holding something in. She was definitely messing up my groove with Titus, though. I was just about to give him one more round to take on the road when she blew up my spot.
While she stood at the sink chatting away with Gladys, I glared at her, wishing I could erase her from existence with my thoughts. Ever since she caught us like that, he’d gone back to brushing me off and talking this mess about me needing to “play my role”. She was becoming more of a nuisance intruding on my turf: my man, my apartment, my life, and had the nerve to be talking shit while she did it. If it wasn’t for Titus, I would have put it all on the table that morning. I was so tired of her that I wanted to let the cat out of the bag and let the cards fall where they may. At the same time, I wasn’t trying to be stupid and lose the man I was fighting so hard for in the beginning, so here I was playing the game again.
Within a week’s time, we had managed to invite two hundred guests, and it seemed like everyone we had invited had brought along a friend or two. There were two spades games going on in the den, and Street was on a winning streak, betting anyone that thought they knew how to play that if they sat down as his opponent they would leave the table minus a couple of Gs. I could tell Street did most of the invites, because there were women for days walking around barely dressed and all tatted up like gangsta boos.
People were in the living room, dining room, hallway and a few in the kitchen with us, but the pool was where most of the action was. Alcohol was plentiful, and the smell of dank filled the house and back yard. The party was typical of a party thrown by Titus; nothing uptight or ritzy, just people, beer, liquor, food, dank, and chips – nothing but a G-thang, baby.
That was right up until Shayla pulled Titus to the side and chastised him. Shayla didn’t like it when Titus smoked in the house, so her corny butt was straight tripping on the other people smoking in the house. As soon as Titus walked into the kitchen the first thing she said to him was, “Titus, baby take these drinks out to the cooler.” And when he reached her to take the drinks from her hand, I peeped her saying to him in a low tone, “And you need to tell your friends no smoking in the house.” She didn’t think anyone else would hear her scolding him, but I was all up in the Kool-Aid.
Shayla raised an eyebrow, and I started grinning from ear to ear. I just knew that this would be the moment that he would go off on her, telling her to fuck off and leave a nigga like T to his business. I waited for the fireworks to go off, ready to stand up for my man against that bourgeois trick. But to my dismay, instead of him telling her to kiss his ass, he kissed her cheek and simply said, “Done deal.”
Done deal? What? I couldn’t believe my ears. The way she got her way all the time with him, especially most recently, was sickening. Whatever that bitch said was the gospel. He just puckered up and kissed her ass every time she opened her mouth. As far as I was concerned, there was nothing wrong with the people smoking in the house. This was a party. People were there to have fun. She was the wet blanket, ruining shit for everyone else. I wished he would man up and stop letting her run everything, in particular where he and I were concerned.
I had to get out of there, watching them be all lovey dovey with each other, so I walked into the pantry
to see if I could find some cups to put on the drink table. Anything to be out of clear view of Titus playing like he was in love with Shayla. When I got back into the kitchen, they had just walked back in from taking the drinks to the cooler. True to form, they were still playing snuggles with each other as they entered.
Newsflash – whenever a couple is overly affectionate around others, acting like they are so in love that all they do is cuddle and kiss, there is usually more to the story. The act of cuddling, kissing, groping, and lusting after each other in public settings is for the public to get the impression that they are happy. I was hip to the game of putting on airs for the benefit of others, and I wasn’t buyin’ it. I knew better.
I placed the cups on the kitchen counter and looked past them into the living room. I saw that no one was smoking inside anymore and that all of the festivities had made their way outdoors, at Shayla’s request. It made me want to vomit in my throat. If it were up to her, Titus’ bomb-ass parties would be whack as hell. We’d probably all be sitting around playing Charades and Yahtzee, sipping on sodas and iced tea.
I turned to Gladys in order to drag my attention away from their obvious façade. I asked her, “How are my niece and nephew?”
“Growing like weeds and into everything, as usual.” She flippantly answered before setting her drink down on the counter. Eyeing me suspiciously, she asked, “What’s wrong with you today? You seem tense about something.”
“Nah, I’m cool. Everything is cool. What’s going on with you and Maverick?”
She seemed satisfied with my answer, and so answered my question. “Honey, you should be asking me what isn’t going on with Maverick. Er’thang is going on with him.” We laughed out loud at her extra southern wordplay. “I called him the other day after Brenda told me that she didn’t send me the arrangements for the Miami weekend. I let him know that I knew it wasn’t Brenda, and he was like ‘Oh, so you talked to her?’ So I said, ‘Yes, and what I need to know from you is did you send me the masquerade party invitation and free hotel nights?’”
“What did he say?” I asked, anxiously, beginning to like Maverick more and more by the minute. He was a slickster with a wild streak, a very nice combination. Reminded me of someone I knew very well – me.
“Girl, he didn’t deny a thing. He told me that he had spent the last six months periodically checking into what I’d been up to since college. He has been perusing my Linked-Online profile and thoroughly reviewing my company profile from my job. Then, by chance, one day he stopped through Auburn for gas and ran into my aunt. After he got all of the information he needed about me from mi tía Cindy, including where I worked and phone numbers, he went into planning mode, hoping that the day would come that we would have a few stolen moments together. He said, ‘I know how you used to love Brenda’s parties, so I figured if I had any chance at getting you to Florida it would be through an invitation from her.’”
“And it worked too,” I giggled and got a few warm feelings from their love connection.
“But I can’t believe your aunt Cindy gave up all your info like that, but that is so much like her. She’s never met a stranger.”
“Yes! But you know the funny thing is that with the way things were with James before I reconnected with Maverick, and the fact that I never stopped loving Maverick, I would have gone to meet him had he sent me the invite himself. I told him that. He didn’t have to trick me into meeting him. He had me at hola, girl.”
“I know that you would have gone, and you shouldn’t feel bad about the feelings you have for him, either. Life’s experiences have a way of forcing us to challenge each and every one of our principles. We can’t help who we love,” I said, as a somberness came over me that I’d never experienced before. I attempted to quickly recover by saying something that would make it appear as if I was okay, but it was too late.
Gladys looked at me sideways and pursed her lips knowingly. “Is everything okay?” she asked me, placing a hand atop of mine. “Is there anything you want to tell me, Rhonda?” She looked all concerned and motherly.
“Who, me?” I bounced back to my normal self. “Of course not, things couldn’t be better.” About that time, Shayla walked back into the room and asked were we talking about Maverick. Smiling ear to ear, Gladys answered, “Yeah, I told her about his confession to the trickery and how much I love him for it.”
Shayla looked at me pointedly, and said, “You know when a man loves a woman for years like Maverick obviously has undying love for you, Gladys, there is no one, and I mean no one, that will keep them apart.” All I wanted to know was why was she directing that bullshit of a sermon in my direction?
“Ain’t that the truth!” Gladys said, giving Shayla a high five. I was about to respond with my two cents when a loud commotion coming from the living room interrupted me. People screamed out and started cheering for Joe who came through the door singing Happy Birthday to Shayla. Titus took his place beside her as Joe sang his heart out. As usual, he faked the funk and looked at her in a way he never did with me and whispered something in her ear. She smiled. The scene was something out of a horror movie – sickening.
When Joe sang Shayla’s name, Titus mouthed it along with him, and Shayla wiped away a tear that had escaped from the corner of her eye. All the women in the room were going crazy, holding their hands to their hearts and whispering to their friends how they wished it were them that was being serenaded. When he was finished singing, Joe handed Titus the mic, saying, “I think you probably have something to say to your girl, huh, man?”
“Thank you, bruh. Yeah, I definitely do.” Titus smiled, gazing into Shayla’s moist eyes. He wrapped his arms around her waist while Joe and all of the party-goers looked on, smiling at the two of them. I caught a glimpse of Gladys staring at me with her eyebrows furrowed, and I wondered if my disgust was obvious. She tipped her head at me questioningly, but I just ignored her and watched my man embrace his mismatched wife.
“Shayla, I hope that this party shows you how much you mean to me. I know that Joe is your favorite singer, and I would have nothing less than the best come sing Happy Birthday to my wifey on her special day. You’re my world, girl. I just want you to be happy. You’re always number one in my book, Shay.”
While the crowd clapped and cheered and I heard Joe begin to sing again, I slipped out of the room and ran to the nearest toilet to unload the bile that had caught in my throat.
Chapter 22
Titus
Because I did most of the planning for the party, Shayla didn’t know half of the guests. I invited some of her folks, but her mother called me and told me to stop calling her sanctified ass family. She said that they would rot in hell before they ate at the table with drug dealers. Not spending time with their blood was on them because my baby was going to have the best with or without their so-called Christian Bible toting butts in attendance. Rhonda was supposed to contact all of her friends that she was connected to, but she did a piss poor job of getting them out to the party. Knowing the way she has been acting around Shayla lately, she probably didn’t even reach out to any of them. No one in their right mind would miss a party thrown by Titus to the motherfucking Wilson, so I knew that she couldn’t have put any effort into getting the word out.
One person that Shayla did know, given that it was from TV, was that sanging ass nigga Joe. I wasn’t going to be the one to start screaming and hollering because he was up in my house singing. However, I was proud that I, once again, was showing just how much on another level I was than the other wannabe bosses jocking for position. A nigga like T did it big up in this piece. When you’re blessed man, you don’t have to fake it to make it anymore. You are a made man.
Even though I paid the sanging mofo for three songs, after he handed it to me to speak to her and wish her happy birthday, he took back the mic and was all up in my woman’s face on his fourth song, singing to the top of his lungs when I slipped my arm around her waist and pulled her close. I pulled her s
o close that the smell of my cologne would help her remember who she belonged to. She looked away from Joe and smiled at me. I knew she was satisfied and that was all I wanted for her. I owed her that on her birthday. After the singing was done, Joe mingled for a little bit before he signed a few autographs and bounced.
The Street Justice crew was all the way live up in the place to be with diamonds glistening in their ears, swinging platinum chains, and fresh threads from the head to the feet. That’s just how we did it, man. All day, er’ day, we were them platinum boys from the hood. I looked at my watch, and it was nine o’clock, so I hollered, “Time for the all-white bikini jam! I want all of you ladies out of those clothes and in the pool in fifteen. Fellows, do what you do in your all white swimming trunks.” That’s right, niggas had to jump clean if they were going to party with me. It’s all about the white. No dirty bitches or niggas were allowed to hang around in my spot. Shayla had already gone up to change, and when she sashayed her fine tail back down onto the pool deck with her all white string bikini it was game over for anyone that thought about putting on a swimsuit that night. Baby was banging!
I gave her a twirl, and said, “Good googly moogly, oh, look at that booty!” I twirled her right into my arms and hugged her, whispering in her ear. “Is all of this for me?”
She wiggled from my embrace and smiled showing her pretty, perfect teeth. “If you want it,” she said teasingly, arousing me instantly. I didn’t know if she would make it into the pool wearing that bikini like that. I was ready for all of them hungry niggas to get up out of my house. I was two seconds away from pulling a Marty-Mar and saying, “You ain’t got to go home, but you got to get the hell up outta here!”
“You know I want it,” I said pulling her back close to me so that she was standing at my side. I reveled in the beauty my wife exuded standing there in all of her glory. But then my baby’s smile turned to disgust when Sheniqua’s brave and disrespectful ass flaunted in front of me wearing a microscopic white bikini top. It wasn’t even a real bikini, just four pieces of string connected to two little patches covering her nipples.
Secrets of a Kept Woman (Volume 1) Page 16