Crossroads

by Nikita Lynnette Nichols

  “You heard me.” Then Amaryllis noticed the suit Bridgette was wearing. “And that’s a bad St. John you got on. Where did you get it from?”

  “Your closet.”

  Amaryllis stopped dressing and looked at Bridgette. “You got on my suit?”

  “It’s a shame to have so many clothes that you can’t keep up with them.”

  Amaryllis couldn’t believe the gall of her roommate. “Bridgette, is that really my suit?”

  Bridgette opened the door to Amaryllis’s walk-in closet. “Look at all of these tags still hanging on these sleeves. I figured that if you ain’t gonna wear them, I might as well.”

  “That’s what you figured, huh?” Amaryllis couldn’t see herself just walking into Bridgette’s closet and helping herself to whatever she wanted. Where was the respect?

  Bridgette modeled the suit in Amaryllis’s full-length mirror. “Yep.”

  “How about I figure out a way to snatch you bald for stealing my clothes?”

  “Amaryllis, half of this stuff you don’t even wear.”

  “Heck, I can’t wear it if you got it on, and you look fat in my suit; take it off.”

  “Uh-uh. We are running late, and I already sprayed this jacket with Vera Wang cologne. I ain’t taking nothing off. Let’s go.”

  Time was of the essence. Amaryllis didn’t have the time to bother with Bridgette right then. Truth be told, Bridgette really did look cute in the suit, and Amaryllis wasn’t serious when she told her to take it off. She probably would’ve given Bridgette permission to wear the suit had she asked. Still, Bridgette needed to know and respect boundaries.

  “That’s all right, I’ll fix you,” Amaryllis threatened. “The very next time you touch my closet doorknob, there’ll be a surprise waiting on you.”

  Bridgette wasn’t the least bit fazed. She’d been borrowing Amaryllis’s clothes, without permission, for years, and it was always the same threat. “Amaryllis, I couldn’t care less about you putting a lock on this door.”

  “Oh, I ain’t gonna put a lock on it. But the next time you touch my closet doorknob, your behind will fry like chicken wings in a deep fryer.” Amaryllis walked to her closet and touched the doorknob, then started shaking as though she were having a seizure. After ten seconds of role playing, she looked at Bridgette. “That’s gonna be you if you try to go into my closet again.”

  Bridgette chuckled at her roommate. She didn’t take the threat serious. “Yeah, whatever. Let’s go.”

  Amaryllis stepped into her Baby Phat stilettos, and Bridgette followed her out of the apartment.

  When they stepped out of the elevator into the lobby, Amaryllis stopped at the security desk to talk to Marvin Johnson, the security guard on duty. Marvin was seventy-three years old and had been guarding the high-rise on the morning shift ever since Amaryllis and Bridgette moved in over a year ago.

  Every morning at 6:15 A.M. sharp, Marvin made sure that he was alert and ready for Bridgette and Amaryllis to make their appearance. When the elevator doors opened and Amaryllis stepped off looking as fine as she wanted to look, Marvin’s eyes would pop out of his head at the sight of her beauty.

  Bridgette, on the other hand, was a different story. She and Marvin were like oil and water. The two of them just didn’t mix. In an entire year, not one day had gone by that Bridgette and Marvin hadn’t argued about something. Just as much as Marvin looked forward to flirting with Amaryllis, he also got a kick out of arguing with Bridgette.

  As the two women approached Marvin’s desk, he adjusted his eyeglasses and spoke first. “Good morning, Beauty and the Beast.”

  Bridgette rolled her eyes at him, and Amaryllis chuckled. Amaryllis knew Marvin had a crush on her, and she also knew he craved to meddle with Bridgette.

  “Hi, Marvin, how are you this morning?” Amaryllis asked.

  He showed Amaryllis the few teeth he had. “I’ll be doing much better if you come around this desk and sit on my lap.”

  She laughed at him. “Marvin, you are a married man with grandbabies. You can’t do anything for me.”

  Just talking to Amaryllis caused him to drool. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  Bridgette looked at him in disgust, already upset that he referred to her as “the Beast.”

  “If she did sit on your old wrinkled lap, she’d slide right off because you got so much Ben-Gay on your legs.”

  Marvin looked at Bridgette. “You’re just jealous because I ain’t giving you no play.”

  Bridgette placed her hand on her hip and shifted all of her weight onto one leg. Every morning she made a vow to not let this man take her out of her anointing, but she lost the battle each time Marvin opened his mouth. “Jealous of what, Marvin? The only thing you can play is blind man. You’re cockeyed in one eye and can’t see out of the other. Each one of your eyeballs is rolling in different directions. Heck, I don’t know if you’re looking at me right now or someone across the lobby. And those aren’t glasses on your face, those are telescopes. The lenses are so thick I bet you can see what the Martians on Mars are doing, can’t you, Marvin?”

  Amaryllis laughed. “Ooh, Bridgette, you promised God you’d tame your tongue.”

  Bridgette pulled on the coattail of her suit jacket, already angry that she had to repent so early in the morning. “Girl, he takes me there.”

  Marvin wasn’t done with Bridgette. “You ain’t saved. You ain’t nothing but a witch sittin’ up in church.”

  “At least I go to church. On Sundays, your antique-looking behind sits around the house all day waiting on somebody to come by and change your diaper. You know what, Marvin? You’re gonna mess around and find out how much of a witch I can be. I can say two words that’ll make all three of your teeth fall out. You look like a snaggletoothed pumpkin. You better be glad I don’t celebrate Halloween, because I would stick a candle in your mouth and sit your old behind in my window.”

  Amaryllis hollered out and laughed so loud at Bridgette she got everyone’s attention in the lobby.

  Marvin was used to Bridgette’s harsh words. He had become immune to her confrontational attitude. He loved to get her riled up in the morning. Bridgette didn’t know it, but she was like a cup of strong black coffee for Marvin; she kept his adrenaline flowing.

  It made Marvin’s day when Bridgette argued with him. He didn’t know if Bridgette was serious or not, but Marvin enjoyed every minute of it. “Who you callin’ old? The cracks in your face is deeper than the crack in my—” Marvin started.

  “Marvin, don’t you dare!” Amaryllis scolded him before he could finish his phrase.

  She looked at Bridgette and Marvin. “You two go through this every morning. You need to charge people to watch the show you put on.”

  At Marvin’s last, unfinished statement, Bridgette was hot and ready to fight. “Uh-uh. It ain’t about no money. I’m getting ready to jack him up for free.” Bridgette stepped out of her heels and pulled off her earrings. “Now you see what you did, Marvin? You got me out of my anointing. I ain’t had to act a fool all weekend. Now come from behind that desk so I can knock the dust off your old behind.”

  Marvin stood behind his desk going back and forth with Bridgette, but he never moved from his spot because he knew just how crazy she really was. He’d seen Bridgette come out of her anointing, as she called it, plenty of times. There was a time when Marvin witnessed Bridgette curse at a man for taking his time going through the revolving doors to exit the building.

  “You slow *$%#. Would you hurry your *@# up? I got somewhere to be.”

  When the man didn’t move through the revolving doors any faster after Bridgette’s outburst, Marvin saw her step in the next opening of the doors and place both of her hands on the glass in front of her and push the doors to go around faster. The poor man didn’t know what to think when the sliding glass door slammed into his back and forced him ahead. He lost his balance and fell forward on the ground just outside of the building. When Bridgette had made her wa
y out of the building, Marvin saw her put her sunglasses on her face, step over the man, and proceed to walk down the street. It was a passersby that helped him stand. By the time he was on his feet, Bridgette was long gone.

  Each time Bridgette challenged Marvin to come from around his desk to fight, he stood his ground where he was.

  Amaryllis picked up Bridgette’s shoes and gave them to her. “Girl, put your shoes and earrings back on.”

  Bridgette yelled over her shoulder as Amaryllis practically dragged her out of the building. “You better be glad I’m late for work.”

  Marvin stuttered when he got excited. “Nah, y-y-you b-b-b-better be g-g-g-glad you l-l-l-late for w-w-work.”

  Amaryllis almost had Bridgette out the door, but not out far enough. “You best not be here when I get home, Marvin,” she continued yelling.

  Of course she knew Marvin wouldn’t be there. His morning shift ended at noon.

  Finally, Amaryllis pulled Bridgette outside of the building. “Why do you let Marvin work your nerves and make you show your behind like that? Aren’t you tired of repenting for the same thing every day?”

  “Heck, he’s lucky you were there to protect him. One of these days you ain’t gonna be around, and I’m gonna whoop Marvin’s old *#@.”

  Amaryllis shook her head at her roommate. “You can’t stop cussing to save your life, can you?”

  “I’m a work in progress. God ain’t done with me yet.”

  They got into Bridgette’s car and headed downtown. Had Bridgette looked in her rearview mirror while driving to work, she would’ve seen that HOT ICEE was hot on their trail.

  Chapter 2

  Saturday afternoon, Bridgette and Amaryllis were in the hosiery department of Macy’s, in Chicago Ridge Mall, sorting through pantyhose.

  Bridgette was frustrated and ready to go. They’d been in the hosiery department for half an hour. “Amaryllis, why do you just gotta have the Berkshire brand? Nylons are the same no matter what company makes them.”

  “It’s that type of attitude, Bridge, that’s got you looking jacked up when you think you’re cute. The difference between you and me is the fact that you will wear tights in the summertime and I wouldn’t. For your information, Berkshire is the best pantyhose that has ever been made. They have the perfect look and the perfect fit.”

  “Yeah, for fat folks.”

  Though she had managed to maintain her Coke-bottle frame that she worked hard to get in her early twenties, Amaryllis was now a size fourteen in her early thirties. But her curves were voluptuous. “I ain’t fat, I’m thick, and don’t you forget it.” She pointed at Bridgette’s belt buckle that was secured tightly around her waist. “And you’re a Krispy Kreme doughnut away from shopping in the plus-size section yourself. All you gotta do is eat one more and kapow! All your buttons will be flying everywhere.”

  Bridgette dismissed the remark with a wave of the hand, but her belt was indeed tight. She was proud of her size twelve figure. She often teased Amaryllis that she could always put on Amaryllis’s clothes and easily alter them to fit with a safety pin or belt, but Amaryllis couldn’t squeeze into any of Bridgette’s clothes. “Whatever, Amaryllis. I just don’t see what all the fuss is about. The suit you bought today has a long skirt, and it drapes to your ankles. It’s gonna be ninety degrees tomorrow, and you know the church will be packed. You need to put on a pair of flip-flops and call it a day.”

  Amaryllis stopped sorting through the hosiery and looked at her friend. “Flip-flops? With my Donna Karan suit? Girl, I should punch you in the face for even saying some crazy mess like that. I’m gonna teach you something about fashion, Bridge, so pay close attention. Don’t even blink, because you’ll miss it, I promise you. I paid three hundred dollars for this Donna Karan suit. It’s elegant and semiformal. I wouldn’t wear flip-flops because they’d cheapen the look of the suit. Instead, I’d wear pantyhose, preferably shimmers, and step into an elegant stiletto or a sling-back three-inch heel. I can also go without pantyhose altogether and step into a pair of open-toes since I got the French on my toenails, okay? Did you get that revelation?”

  Bridgette didn’t care for Amaryllis’s so-called Bible lesson. “Whatever, Amaryllis. You think you’re all that just because you’re saved now. But trust me, honey, you’re still just as ghetto as I am. So, come on down from that high horse.”

  “Oh, I never pretended not to be ghetto, Bridgette. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m ghetto with a capital ‘G,’ because I’m real about who I am. But I’m high-class ghetto. Learn the difference and come on up a little higher. You’re low-class ghetto. It’s time for you to leave those corner-store stockings alone and graduate into some Berkshires.”

  “Girl, please. I’m not gonna pay twelve dollars for a pair of nylons.”

  “Uh-huh, and those stockings you wore to work yesterday with my St. John looked like the buck fifty you probably paid for them. Every time you got up from your desk, your knees were sagging. But that’s on you. You can let the devil make a fool out of you if you want to. There’s a difference between someone who thinks they look good and doesn’t, than someone who wants to look good but does not care to.”

  Amaryllis found her size in the Berkshire brand, then found Bridgette’s size. “You’re graduating today, Bridgette. I’m buying these for you.”

  As they waited in line to purchase the pantyhose, Amaryllis and Bridgette heard a woman say, “No, Becky, I’m not buying the Barney pajamas. You have the exact pair at home.”

  Amaryllis and Bridgette looked over their shoulders and saw a woman trying to talk calmly to a little girl who appeared to be about seven or eight years old.

  “But, Mommie, I want them,” the girl whined.

  “I said no, now put them back,” the woman demanded.

  “But why can’t I have them, Mommie? Why?”

  Bridgette couldn’t believe the way the woman was handling that situation with her young daughter. “Umph, umph, umph. If that was my momma, I wouldn’t have any teeth at this point. It only took Josephine one time to tell me no.”

  Bridgette and Amaryllis moved forward in line and continued to watch the drama unfold along with everyone within viewing.

  “You can’t have the pajamas, Becky. Put them back. I’m not gonna tell you again,” the woman repeated to the child.

  Everyone standing close by witnessed the young girl fall to the floor and throw a full-blown temper tantrum in the middle of Macy’s. “But, Mommie, I want them. I want Barney.”

  “You stop that crying, young lady, or you’ll find yourself in time-out. Get up from the floor right this minute. I mean it, Becky, get up right now.”

  “No, Mommie, no!”

  To everyone’s surprise, the frustrated mother relented and stood in line to pay for the pajamas.

  Amaryllis was too outdone. “Bridgette, did you see that?”

  Bridgette shook her head from side to side. “That’s a shame. Josephine would’ve pulled down my pants right here in front of everybody and tore me up.”

  “Remind me to call my gynecologist when we get home,” Amaryllis said.

  “For what?”

  “I just made up my mind not to have any kids. I’m gonna get on the pill.”

  “But you’re not doing anything that requires the pill, Amaryllis.”

  “I don’t care. After what I just witnessed, I refuse to get caught in that situation, because I will surely go to jail. Nowadays, you can’t hit your kids.”

  “Amaryllis, you won’t get caught up because you’re not having sex, remember?”

  “I wanna be ready just in case God decides He wants to do to me what He did to Mary.”

  Bridgette raised her eyebrows and the octave in her voice. “Mary who?”

  “Jesus’ mother. She wasn’t having sex either, and you know what happened to her. She got caught up. So, in case God tries to do to me what He did to Mary, I’m gonna be ready for Him. I’m getting on the pill.”

  Bridgette let out
a sarcastic chuckle. “Girl, please. First of all, Amaryllis, Mary was a virgin, and she gave birth to the Savior. You are a far cry from a virgin. And what’s liable to come up out of you can hardly be called a savior. Trust me, honey, God ain’t thinking about you.”

  Amaryllis looked at her friend and rotated her neck. “Excuse me, Miss Hoochiefied? You’re not in a position to talk about anybody. Three of your ex-boyfriends paid you a visit in the bedroom and were never seen or heard from again. If you were to ask anyone about Robert, David, or Kevin, they’ll say ‘Last I heard, they were going over to Bridgette’s house.’”

  An elderly Caucasian lady standing in line ahead of them heard Amaryllis. She glanced over her shoulder to see the faces of the two women having such an inappropriate conversation.

  As they were leaving Macy’s, Amaryllis’s cellular phone rang. She answered it just before the call was forwarded to her voice mail. “Amaryllis, speaking.”

  “Hey, baby, this is Charles.”

  At the sound of his voice, Amaryllis rolled her eyes at no one in particular. Charles Walker was from her past, and she wanted him to stay there. She knew that if she allowed him anywhere near her, she’d backslide for sure. He had always been her weakness. They dated for four years. She had met him at a club when she was hosting her twenty-first birthday party. They were introduced by a mutual friend that had brought Charles to the party.

  After she and Charles shook hands, Amaryllis excused herself to mingle with all of her guests but there was something about Amaryllis that had mesmerized Charles. He didn’t know if it was the color of her café-au-lait skin or the white halter top that cinched her tiny waist or the seductive perfume that she wore that night. Half an hour after they had met, Amaryllis’s perfume still haunted Charles’s nostrils. He didn’t approach her again at the party, but Charles sat in a corner and watched every move she made that night. From the way she smiled to the way she sat and gracefully crossed one leg over the other, Charles was infatuated.

  It was in the wee hours of the next morning when Amaryllis said good-bye to her last guest. The club owner walked her to her car, helped pack her gifts in the trunk, and wished her a good night. As soon as she sat behind the steering wheel and buckled her seat belt, someone knocked on her passenger-side window. She looked over and saw Charles hunched down with a smile that was to die for. She remembered his face from earlier that evening. She also remembered the feeling she got when she shook his hand.