Love- a Forgotten Art

by Ivy Symone

  “Shut up! Now, what the hell you calling me for?”

  “You think I can borrow a thousand dollars?”

  “For what?”

  I can hear the hesitance in her voice already.

  “None of your business, Mama. Dang,” I laugh.

  “For that much, it better be my business. Cam, how come you don’t have that yourself? I know you got it. Y’all richer than me over there. Where Deuce at anyway? I need a new refrigerator.”

  “Mama, you know I just got that car. And Deuce…well, you know Deuce try to set limits sometimes. And didn’t you just get a new refrigerator?”

  Mama chuckles. “Yeah, but I seen one I like better. It got the see-through glass on one of the doors and you can put a lock code on it.”

  “Why do you wanna do that? Who you locking out of the refrigerator?”

  My mama is silly like that. She wants the latest model of whatever she owns; especially if the technology is better on it. She’s never worked a day in her life, but she lives like a queen. She lucked up by having a kid with a rich Italian street nigga. Because of me, he took care of her, despite not being with her, until I became an adult. She became accustomed to a certain lifestyle and surrounded herself with people of a particular crowd; therefore, she managed to latch onto another street nigga and had my younger sister. She knows once Carmina becomes a legal adult the money stops for her from her daddy. But she had my little eight-year-old brother by a bossed-up street nigga, so he takes care of them too.

  Spoiled isn’t the proper term for my mama. Milani represents the concept of entitlement to the fullest. And what can I say, I guess I get the shit honestly. People say I’m just like her, but worse.

  “This my house. Your brother and sister just live here. And Terrance’s ass thinks he gon drink up all my shit. I need a lock,” she explains.

  I really don’t care about all of that; I need this money to get this abortion handled as soon as possible.

  “Mammmaaa,” I whine. “I know you have it sitting in your purse.”

  “I really don’t. Your sister about to turn eighteen in a couple of months and I gotta penny-pinch now. Why don’t you ask your father?”

  I’m not one of his favorite people, nor is he one of mine; therefore, I already know I can’t ask him for shit.

  “Did you hear me, Camryn?”

  I groan with aggravation. “Yeah, I heard you.

  “Are you and your daddy not on good terms again?”

  She knows me and my daddy have never been on good terms; we’re estranged. However, when he stopped sending my mama money, he began reaching out to me and sending gifts and money for Ari. We never developed a close relationship enough to get personal. He usually kept his communication with me short and direct.

  When he and I have a falling out, he cuts me off. He says I think I’m grown so I shouldn’t need him for anything. Honestly, our relationship became even more strained when I got pregnant with Ari. But our silent treatments never last long; only because I usually have to ask him for help. I’ll make up some lie and put it on something for his grandchild. He gives in and comes through for me, but I know it’s only out of guilt.

  “Naw, not really,” I answer.

  “Cam, you really need to think about—” she starts but I cut her off.

  “Mama!” I’m irritated and I know what’s about to come out of her mouth. I’m not trying to hear it right now. “Don’t start, please.”

  “Cam, just think about who he is.”

  “I know who he is,” I say angrily. “He’s Deadbeat Daddy of the Year. Fuck him.”

  “Please don’t say shit like that,” Milani says firmly. “He may have not been there physically for you, but he made sure we had a damn good life.”

  “Why do you respect him? He left you high and fucking dry when you told him you were pregnant. He said fuck us but had time for other bitches and kids.”

  Instead of taking offense to my jab, she takes a shot herself. “Is that why you accept the same from your baby daddy?”

  “You know what…” I let my voice trail in frustration.

  When Milani speaks again, I can hear the desperation in her voice. “Don’t be like me, Cam; be better than me.”

  If only she could see me roll my eyes.

  “Do you hear me, Cam?”

  “Yeah. I gotta go,” I hastily say.

  “Well, wait…I heard Ari’s father is in Jewel City. Is that true?”

  “Yeah. How you know?”

  “Who else; your Uncle. Are you happy?”

  “For Ari, yeah,” I admit honestly. I add, “Mama, I don’t want that nigga. I’m happy with Deuce.”

  “Are you?” she presses.

  I chuckle. “Yeah. Me and P ain’t never been like that anyway.”

  “Okay. I was just checking.”

  The tone in her voice carries skepticism, but she can think whatever she wants.

  “Bye Mama,” I say before ending the call. I proceed to dial my uncle. He answers on the third ring.

  “Bonjour jolie demoiselle.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Botswana to you too,” I dismiss. Excitedly, I squeal, “Hey Unc!”

  “What do you want?”

  Though he can’t see me, I still feign insult. “What makes you think I want something? I can’t call to check up on the greatest man God ever created?”

  Unc chuckles. “You’re really laying it on. Cam, you know I know you better than you know yourself. So, what is it?”

  Alexis comes out of the bathroom in just her panties. Her full breasts bounce with each step. Damn, it’s too bad Bae’s coming back home today. I wouldn’t mind some one-on-one time with Alexis.

  Since Alexis is in the room, I decide to put off discussing my monetary needs. “Unc, what’s up?”

  “What are you talking about?” he asks cautiously.

  “Why didn’t you let me know Prime was coming home?”

  Alexis’ head shoots up and she stares at me with her mouth hanging open. She mouths, “Prime?”

  I nod with a smirk.

  “You talk to your mama or something?”

  “Yep, but not just her. One of your boys mentioned it.”

  “Which one?”

  “Box.” That’s not entirely a lie. Box did tell Reese, who told me. I just don’t want Unc all in my business knowing I’m fucking Reese. They all run in the same circle, and I ain’t trying to cause any confusion.

  “Yeah, they’re supposed to be having some type of meeting and a party or something tonight. I’ma try to make it, but I’m supposed to be meeting up with your father anyway. You know he’ll be here in town for a few days.”

  I grunt with disdain.

  Unc catches my attitude and chuckles. “Girl, you better stop doing your father like that.”

  “I didn’t call to be talking about him anyway.”

  “So, what did you call about?”

  “I need some money for me and Ari.”

  “How much are you talking?”

  “Like two thousand,” I tell him.

  “I’ll see what I can do. Have you asked P? Since he’s home, reach out to him. Shit, that’s what he’s supposed to do.”

  I force a deliberate sigh, acting the part. “I know. Do you have his direct number?”

  “I might text it to you, but Cam, don’t start no shit. He just came home. Be civil about everything.”

  “It ain’t about me though; he does have a child over here,” I argue.

  “He knows. How’s Ari doing anyway? I need to get over there and see her. I’m sure your father will want to see his grandchild.”

  “Don’t bring him over here please.”

  Before I can get overly aggravated, Alexis says loudly, “Tell your uncle I said hi.”

  He must have heard because he asks, “Who is that?”

  “Alexis. You remember her, don’t you?” I grin at Alexis. She’s trying to stifle her laughter.

  “Alexis? Which one is that?”

&
nbsp; “You know who she is, Unc. The light-skinned one with the big titties and pretty eyes,” I say.

  “Aw yes. I remember her. I may need to holler at her in the next few days.”

  I giggle. “You won’t ever change, huh?”

  “You know it. But let me ask you something…”

  “What?”

  “Who’s that lil bum your mama with now?”

  “Terrance? He ain’t nobody. He’s just something she doing.”

  “That’s what she said,” he chuckles.

  I realize he’s not giving me any contact info for P although I don’t need it. Again, I’m just playing my part. But I’m not sure if he’s just being protective or if it’s something else, but that’s cool. I ask, “Where’s the party gonna be tonight?”

  “You don’t need to be there. I know how you are, Cam. Prime will be there, and I’m sure Korrine will be with him.”

  I roll my eyes again. Who cares about Prime’s ugly ass wife being around? If Unc didn’t want to tell me where the party is going to be, I would find out some type of way.

  “Well, whenever you can, just tell P I said what’s up and he need to call me.”

  “I sure will. And uhm…Cam…what about that other thing we talked about?”

  “I’m still working on it,” I say.

  “I’ll be over here doing my part too, but you really have to push Deuce. You need Deuce to marry you, no pre-nup. You need to get your signature on everything Deuce owns.”

  “I get that Unc, it’s just that Deuce has been acting funny lately.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it; just isn’t the same Deuce anymore. But okay…I’ll talk to you later, baby girl.”

  “Love you, Unc.”

  “Love you too. Tell Deuce and your kids I said hello and I’ll see them soon.”

  “Okay.”

  I end the call and sit there lost in thought. Being pregnant is no longer a worry of mine.

  “What he say when you told him I said hi?” Alexis asks excitedly.

  “Nothing; just trying to remember which one of my friends you were,” I lie.

  “I can’t wait to see his ass again. And did you say Prime was in town too? He’s like royalty around here.”

  “I know,” I roll my eyes.

  I see a flicker of wickedness and scheming in Alexis’ eyes. She’s looking for a come up like all of us. They think I lucked up with Deuce, so my friends are always looking for their own bread and butter.

  Now that Prime is in the city, I have to move a little different. However, I’m tired of being the last of his priorities and treated like shit. Since he’s back, I got plans for him that’ll help me with an ultimate come up.

  I won’t need Deuce, and Deuce’s funky new ways. My daddy and Deuce both can kiss my ass; an ass cheek for each of them.

  Chapter 3: Prime

  I look down for the hundredth time at the business card I held in my hand. For the past thirty minutes I’ve contemplated dialing the contact number listed. Never have I ever been a man to fear rejection, but there’s something different with this situation. For one, the circumstances in which she and I met. We aren’t meant to know each other outside of that. Two, she isn’t aware that one of her cards had been left behind when the contents of her purse spilled that night. So, it isn’t like she gave me her information willingly. She might think I’m being weird and stalking her.

  That’s definitely not the case. I’m not the type to press a woman. I’m not delusional either. She’s either biting or she isn’t. But I don’t seem to have that problem at all; I’m usually the one being pestered. Sometimes it’s flattering and a stroke to my ego; other times it’s a turn off.

  Dasani Withers, CEO and founder of Mother Pearl. From what I could tell it’s a line of hair care products. But why does that sound so familiar to me?

  I reach for my cell phone to place the call, but it sounds off with an incoming call instead. Annoyed that my quest had been interrupted, I answer. “Yeah?”

  “What’s up, boss? I got that info on that nigga Gooch.”

  My eyes reluctantly tear away from the card to glance at the display. It’s one of my trusted adjutants in Jewel City.

  “We’ll speak in person,” I tell him.

  “Bet that,” Poodah murmurs. He adds, “Also, word is out that The One got eyes in town.”

  “This will be interesting,” I muse.

  Poodah chuckles, “Yeah, niggas is shook already.”

  “Jewel City needs some cleaning up anyway. They should be nervous. Did you set up that meeting with the heads of The Coalition?”

  “It’s set for tonight at the party at The Lion’s Den. Everybody expected to be there including Zino.”

  I smile at the mention of my good friend’s name. “Mr. Okonjo will grace me with his divine presence. What about Walt Stevens?”

  “He’s supposed to be too but you know that ol’ head be flaky as fuck.”

  “Yeah, I kinda expected that. But you did good, Poodah,” I compliment.

  “So what’chu end up getting into last night?” he asks.

  “Pussy,” I say before we both share a laugh.

  “Ain’t nothing wrong with that. You in Gemsville too so yo’ ass got some of that high-class pussy,” he jokes.

  “Chell’s crazy ass had me at one of her brother’s wild ass sex parties. When I tell you those mothafuckas were on one…Nigga! But I met this one beautiful chocolate sweet. Poodah, I think I wanna make her my wife.”

  Poodah burst into laughter. “Already nigga?”

  I shake my head at myself. “Already.”

  My eyes return to the business card. Maybe Poodah knows who she is, so I stop him before he can say anything else. “Have you heard of a Dasani Withers?”

  “Dasani?” he repeats. “Naw; never heard that name before. Who is that—Wait, I think I have. It do sound kinda familiar, but I can’t…Damn, I have heard that name before. Let me think…”

  Since I’m sitting at the desk, I utilize the laptop to visit Mother Pearl’s Instagram page. Absently, I respond to Poodah while scanning over the grid of photos. “Well, you think while I try to find out…Ay, are you in Gemsville yet?”

  “I’m on my way right now.”

  “Bet that,” I mumble. “Did you ever take care of that situation with your girl?” I’m not really interested, but he’s Poodah. I don’t have the heart to be rude to him. Poodah is like my little brother, always trying to please me. He looks up to me, and he’s loyal as fuck. Out of every nigga around me, he ain’t crossed me yet. The rest of these mothafuckas ain’t shit. Some know that I know they ain’t shit, while others are clueless and think I’m dumb. I know shit. Even if I haven’t been in Jewel City for a minute. Everything gets back to me. Every nigga that grins in my face, I know of his infractions.

  As Poodah start to ramble on about his nuisances with his baby mama and their child, I start clicking on all of the posts that stands out to me; anything that I think may give me a lead on who this Dasani is. There’re hardly any pictures of her. Most of the posts highlight customers and brand ambassadors. The few posts I see of Dasani are ones that are on flyers providing information on sales, events, contests, and giveaways.

  There’s a particular photo that captures my attention. It’s a group photo of young women in various styled white swimwear. It doesn’t look like a professional photo; just friends caught up in the moment. However, there are quite a few young women that look very familiar to me.

  Interrupting Poodah, I ask, “What you know about Mother Pearl hair products?”

  “Oh! Mother Pearl…Yeah, I got some folks at that company. It’s big here in Jewel City. And that’s Camryn’s girl. My mama’nem use those products too.”

  “My Camryn?” I ask. Although the photo tells all, I want to make sure Poodah is on the same page.

  “Yeah, lil Cam. They be doing it. I’m proud of folk. And ol’ gal be employing muhfuckas with felonies and shit. Getting niggas off the street.”
>
  “So, Cam is actually doing something productive with herself.” That sounds like an oxymoron. I know Camryn and she ain’t the giving back to the community type. She ain’t even a boss type. Seems like I need to reach out to her and get caught up.

  “Yeah, I ain’t gon lie, I been hearing Cam doing better since she got with Deuce.”

  I roll my eyes in disdain. I don’t want to hear about Cam and her love life. But I do want to see her kid. It’s been a while and I need to show my face.

  “You still plan to buy that house in Jewel City, or you gon’ go head and work it out with your wife?” Poodah asks.

  “My wife?” I exclaim incredulously. It causes Poodah to burst into laughter. “Man, fuck her. I’d rather stay with Cam.”

  Box laughs some more. “Damn, that’s fucked up. You must can’t stand her ass for you to say that.”

  “I can’t, but for the sake of our child, I try to get along with her. I think it’s time I go ahead and get those papers drawn up though. It’s long overdue.”

  “She ain’t finna give yo’ ass no damn divorce. Y’all been married all this time. She ain’t going, boss.”

  “She will,” I state absolutely. “She knows what time it is. And she knows I got too much dirt on her ass for her to fight the shit. Besides, I ain’t fucked up with offering her a little severance package that she’ll be happy with. It’ll hold her ass over until she sinks her claws into the next nigga.”

  I click on one of the posts of Dasani where she’s lying back on what appears to be a grey sofa. She’s wearing a white tank top; no bra. My eyes linger longer than needed at her nipples pushing against the fabric. I know what’s under that shirt. I want to be reunited with them again. Fuck!

  It looks like she’s wearing very short green and white shorts. Her chocolate legs propped up on the sofa are smooth, shimmery, and appear to stretch on for miles. Her face is free of makeup, and her hair is down flowing over the arm of the sofa. It’s wet looking and really long falling in short crinkly waves. Her caption is about the Mother Pearl products used in her hair, so I assume that this mane of thick hair actually grows out of her head. I guess it’s a great way to persuade prospective customers to buy her product.

  She’s beautiful; however, there is a problem. If she runs in the same circle as Camryn, somebody is going to have hurt feelings; and it won’t be me. And if Dasani don’t want to fuck with me because of her association with Camryn, she’s just going to have to get over it and hope they can find some type of understanding.