This Can't be Life

by Shakara Cannon

  “You better not even come near my hair with no damned super strength perm, Stacey!” Talise laughed. It had been a while since I had been with my girls. We were in my moderate sized pool house that I had turned into a small salon so I could cater to my regular, high payin' clients.

  “If you and Simone weren’t so up under those men y’all effin’ with, I could’ve gotten my hair done sooner. So, I don’t want to hear nothing. Y’all don’t care anyway,” Talise pouted.

  “Whatever. You’ve been up under the good doctor every night, too, so you can’t say shit, Tali. And when you stop cursing?” Simone asked Talise.

  “I know right? What’s up with this fuckin “effin’” shit and this “ish” shit?” I cosigned for Simone.

  “First of all, I always make time to get my hair done and chill with y’all, in that exact order. And cursing is unladylike,” Talise replied, laughin’.

  “Yeah, what the fuck, eva,” Simone and I replied simultaneously before we all fell out laughin’.

  “So you been hangin’ tough with Banks, huh?” I asked Simone.

  “Yeah, he’s real cool. It’s surprising. I really like him, you guys!” Simone squealed.

  “What makes him so special? All of a sudden, you like somebody and it’s him? Why him, Monie?” Talise asked with her face scrunched up.

  “What’s wrong with Carlton?” Simone asked, already on the defensive.

  “One, he’s married,” I said, gettin' it started.

  “Two, they got kids,” Talise added.

  “Three, he’s a rapper, Simone. He has a hoe in every area code,” I said, probably bein’ a little too blunt for her sensitive ass.

  “Four, he has the same name as that nerdy goober from Fresh Prince of Bellaire.” I added.

  “Five…” Talise started before Simone cut her off.

  “Fuck y’all!” Simone interrupted, getting angrier by the minute.

  “I’m just saying, Simone,” Talise started. “You deserve so much better than that. What about Deon? You never even called him back after he left you all those messages on the salon voicemail. You don’t know what could have happened with him or why he did what he did.”

  “You guys are really tripping. Deon dissed me! Fuck him! I told you guys that we talked at that damned Xbox PlayStation or whatever kind of party it was, and I told his ass off. He knows that I moved on. He knows he fucked up! He left me hanging. I didn’t do shit to warrant that, so he isn’t such a good guy after all. I don’t know why you guys keep bringing him up, knowing what he did to me!” Simone huffed. “Carlton gives me butterflies, you guys!” Simone whined. “He makes me feel good and you guys know I’m a cynic when it comes to love and all that shit,” she pleaded for our understandin'.

  “Well, we just want you to be careful. We ain’t hatin’. That damned man is fine as hell!” I said, makin Simone and Talise laugh.

  “He is, shit. That damned Banks looks finger lickin’ good!” I said, kissing my fingertips. “But he ain’t as fine as my man. Now Tyron is like a box of the finest chocolates. He’s crazy as hell, so you never know which one you gon’ get, but they all taste good as hell!” We laughed.

  “Speaking of Tyron, I saw your man at the BET Awards last night with his girl, Stacey.” Simone said, volunteerin' information that I didn’t care to hear.

  “So, what, Simone. And who were you with, the adulterer?” I asked. I already knew that she was. I just wanted to rub her shit in her face like she was tryin’ to rub my shit in my face. “How could you go with them, Simone? That’s fucked up. I wouldn’t have done your hair for that shit if I would’ve known all the nasty little details.”

  “Stacey, I didn’t know that we would be riding and sitting together at the damned event. Carlton asked me to go and I said yes,” Simone sighed. “It was weird, too. She’s so oblivious to what’s going on behind her back. Damned shame. I kind of feel sorry for her, though. She seems really nice.”

  “Fuck her and you, Simone! You should be feelin’ sorry for Banks’ wife and his kids. Shit, Tyron ain’t married. And what, y’all best girlfriends now? Y’all meetin' for lunch and goin’ shoppin’ on Rodeo or some shit?” I was gettin’ pretty pissed.

  “Come on now, Stace. You know you my boy, first and foremost. I’m just stating the facts. And no, we’re not best friends now or ever. And fuck Carlton’s wife!”

  “You guys are trippin’. Neither one of those women has done anything to either one of y’all,” Talise interjected. “I’m sure Banks’ wife is a nice girl, too, but I bet you don’t want to hear about that do you Simone?” Talise asked.

  “Yeah, do you Simone?” I asked, placin' my hand on my hip.

  “No, I don’t. Sorry I even brought it up! Damn!”

  “Your half ass apology is accepted.” I stuck my tongue out in her direction and threw my comb at her when she reciprocated.

  “I need to tell y’all somethin’,” I said very seriously after a moment of silence.

  “What’s wrong?” Simone asked full of concern.

  “You’re scaring us, Stacey. Spit it out, damn it,” Talise added, lookin’ at me through the mirror with a worried expression on her face.

  “I’m pregnant,” I stated with the utmost seriousness, making us all fall out laughin’ uncontrollably.

  “For real, Stace. What is it?” Simone asked, wiping tears of laughter off of her cheeks.

  “Y’all remember the old ass pervert that sent me the Rolex to the salon? Your clients’ husband, Simone?” I asked.

  “Yeah, yeah, go on,” Simone replied.

  “Well, close to four months ago…” I told them about the first delivery by FedEx and about the incident with the water bottle.

  “What the fuck! Did you call the police, Stacey?” Talise asked, quickly forgettin' to be ladylike.

  “No, and I’m not goin’ to call the police, either. I can’t have them questionin' me about my lifestyle and who I’m sleepin' and spendin’ time with. I can’t have them all up in my business like that. I know it’s that son of a bitch that’s doin’ this shit, but the police don’t and I can’t prove it.”

  “You still need to make some type of report, Stacey. God forbid that sicko does something to you. No one would even know,” Simone said rubbin' her temples.

  “You’re right, Simone. Stacey, I can’t believe that you haven’t told us this shit earlier,” Talise said. I could tell she was pretty damned pissed off at me.

  “Y’all know all the stuff that has been goin’ on. I didn’t want to worry y’all. Sorry. I should have said somethin’ sooner.” The room was quiet as I rinsed and shampooed Talise’s hair.

  “Don’t do that shit again. And you better let us know the next time he makes any type of contact with you,” Talise demanded while I shampooed her hair.

  “I won’t and I will. I would hire a private investigator or somethin’, but I don’t want anyone lookin’ into my life. They just might stumble upon a story on Tyron Marks and his gay lover, and that would be the end of my heart,” I sighed.

  “You need to worry about the end of your life. That should be more important, wouldn’t ya think?” Simone said. I could see her eyes were starting to water.

  “Don’t you start crying, Simone,” I went to hug her. “You pregnant or somethin’, ‘cause your ass is real emotional lately?” I laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Yeah, right. By the divine grace of God. You know I’m not active right now, but I will be soon,” Simone said mischievously as I went back to dryin' Talise’s hair with a towel.

  “But seriously, y’all.” I said on a slightly lighter note. “I’ll figure out somethin’. This asshole is just tryin’ to scare me, that’s all. I’ll be fine. Don’t y’all worry about me. Now give me a hug.” I felt a tear sneakin' out of the corner of my right eye as the three of us stood there huggin'.

  “Now look who might be pregnant. You’re the one always crying.” Simone wiped the lone tear from my cheek and wiped her hand on my
smock as we laughed.

  “Yeah, I’ve had a lot of Tyron’s babies up in me, so I very well could be.”

  “You are so disgusting,” Talise shrieked. “Seriously, you guys, let’s promise to never keep any more secrets from each other for as long as we all shall live. Now, say I do.”

  “I do,” Simone and I said together.

  “Now, Simone, that motha fucka Tyron wasn’t kissin’ all up on that bitch, now was he?” I asked seriously.

  Deon

  “Simone, I’ve been trying to get in touch with you since I got back from

  Atlanta. Please, let me explain,” I said when I caught Simone standing alone by the bar at Boulevard3. We’d made eye contact when she first walked in with that rapper; it was like she could feel my presence in the room. I could tell from the look in her eyes that it wasn’t going to be easy to get her to hear me out. I watched and waited until she was alone, then I made my move.

  “No explanation needed. It’s too late. I don’t have anything to say to you, Deon. Whatever you have to say now, could’ve been said months ago. I don’t have time for little boy shit. As a grown man, you didn’t have to do me the way you did me. I didn’t do anything to deserve that! You could’ve talked to me and told me that you didn’t want to be with me any more…”

  “But that wasn’t the case, Simone. I was tripping out over…,” I said, cutting her off and trying to get in what I had to say before the rapper came back from wherever he was.

  “I don’t care what you were tripping over really. You hurt my feelings and I was just starting to let you in! I know what’s up, Deon. I’m not a fool! You went back home, got all cozy with your girlfriend and dissed me. I’m over it. I’ve dealt with it and I’ve moved on. Now you do the same,” she said calmly, taking a sip of her drink.

  “That’s not what happened, Simone. Please just call me so we can talk, or give me your number so I can call you.” I all but pleaded like a simp.

  “Give you my number? What, you erased it? Forget about me, Deon. Just go on with your life and I’ll continue to go on with mine,” she said before walking off toward C. Banks who was standing not too far from where we were.

  “Deon, you need to just chop that one up as a lesson learned. You can’t undo what’s already done. Maybe one day she will forgive you and hear you out,” Nichelle told me as we sat on my floor throwing back shots of Louis XIII cognac. The Playstation fundraiser kept playing over and over in my head.

  “I know, but damn! What the fuck was she doing with that rapper dude?” I swallowed my third shot and refilled the glass. “Then, when I went to go talk to her, she wasn’t trying to hear shit I had to say! She fucking dissed me, Chell! What kinda shit is that?” I felt my words slurring, but I didn’t give a damn. I wanted to drown out what I was feeling.

  “Well, you know I’m going to always be real with you, D, but you dissed her first. You fucked up, so you have to just live with the choices you’ve made.”

  “I don’t even know why I liked her so much in the first place. There’s a lot of girls that want to be with me. I’m a fucking millionaire and I can have my pick of any fucking woman I want! Fuck her, Chell!” I said, trying to re-inflate my ego.

  “I know that’s right. Why is it that the person you want to be with doesn’t want to be with you?” Nichelle asked.

  “I don’t know…just some flickted ass twist of fate, I guess. You can have everything in your life flowing smoothly. Then that one person can come and fuck up the momentum.” I didn’t even care if I was making sense or not. I was too drunk to care, which was quite funny to me. I fell into a fit of laughter. All of a sudden, everything was funny to me. Then suddenly, it wasn’t.

  “I’m not complaining or nothing like that, cuz I’m blessed to have everything I have, but this shit is hard! You can’t trust niggas. You can’t trust bitches…”

  “Okay, Deon, you’re drunk…whoa, I’m feeling it, too,” Nichelle said as she got up and pulled me to my feet by my arms and led me to my bedroom.

  “Damn, everything is spinning. This look kinda hot. Look at the TVs, Chell. It’s like one big TV instead of…one, two, five…eight, ten…”

  “Deon, lay down, boy,” I felt Nichelle taking my shoes off, but she was just a blur. Nothing mattered right now. I was floating and it felt good to let go for once.

  “Don’t leave me all alone, Chell,” I slurred. “Stay with me, pleeeeeeeze,” I begged.

  “Scoot over, Deon. I’m not drinking with you no more. I see why you barely drink. You can’t hold your liquor for shit.” I heard Nichelle laughing and then everything went dark.

  I opened my eyes and looked around. I was in my bedroom in my bed, but didn’t know how in the hell I got here.

  “What the hell?” I whispered, when I noticed I was butt naked wearing only white socks while Nichelle slept soundly next to me, in what looked like one of my white tees. What in the hell happened to my clothes? What in the hell happened last night was the more pressing question. I was a little off balance when I got up and went into the bathroom, but once I took my first steps, my equilibrium returned quickly. I felt fine, just thirsty as hell. My throat felt like it was being sandblasted every time I tried to swallow. When I saw my reflection in the mirror, I was shocked. I looked like I had been to hell and back in half a day. I glanced around the bathroom and memories of Simone clouded my thoughts.

  “Get the fuck out of my head!” I said aloud, staring myself down in the mirror. I quickly washed my face, brushed my teeth, and covered myself with my robe before I walked out the bathroom. What happened last night? I kept trying to remember. The last thing I could recall was sitting on the floor with my back against the couch talking to Nichelle. Then we started drinking…and damn, I can’t remember. I walked into my living room and found the empty bottle of Louie on the floor with two shot glasses.

  “I can’t believe we drank this whole bottle.” I picked up the empty bottle and the two shot glasses off of the floor. One was still filled with a whole shot of liquor. I dropped the empty bottle in the trash shoot in the kitchen, sat the shot glasses on the sink, and grabbed a bottle of Gatorade out of the fridge. I opened the curtains to let some light in and sat down on the sofa to watch the sunrise. I closed my eyes and rested my head on the back of the sofa. What in the hell happened last night? I let the question that I had been trying to avoid since I saw Nichelle laying in the bed next to me slowly emerge into my thoughts. Did Nichelle and I have sex last night? She was laying in my bed in her panties and the shirt I wore yesterday. Shit! I’m not drinking anymore! I wanted to go in the room and wake Nichelle to question her, but if we had been together sexually and I didn’t remember, I’d feel like the biggest asshole.

  Nichelle came down the stairs in my t-shirt and the jeans she had on last night.

  “Good morning,” she laughed. That scared the shit out of me. What did she find so damned funny?

  “Good morning,” I mumbled.

  “You feel all right? Got a hangover?” She grabbed a sparkling apple cider out of the fridge then took a seat next to me.

  “Yeah, I feel fine. Just confused,” I confessed, rubbing my temples. I felt a headache coming on.

  “Confused about what? About what happened last night?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I can’t remember a damned thing!” She got up, walked to the window, and stood there with her back to me, silent for a while. My fear had materialized through her actions. She didn’t have to say anything. I knew we’d had sex. She was too quiet.

  “I’m sorry I don’t remember. I don’t usually drink like that.”

  “We were both tipsy. I just wish you wouldn’t have told me that you loved me. You played with my head. I gave you my body and you don’t remember?” she sighed.

  “Damn, Nichelle!” I put my hands over my face and grunted. Fuck, fuck, fuck! What have I done? I’ve had sex with my best friend. That is the quickest way for a strictly platonic relationship to end.

  “I’m sorr
y. I am so sorry, Chell. I’m never drinking again,” I spat out. But she never turned from the window. If she had, I would’ve been able to see her smiling from ear to ear. She sat next to me and pulled my hands from my face.

  “I’m just playing, Deon,” she laughed and fell off the couch. She sprawled out on the floor, crying tears of laughter at my expense.

  “You should’ve seen your face, D,” she said, wiping tears off of her cheeks. “I’m sorry, but I had to do it. I had to!” she said, going into another fit of laughter. “You were so drunk last night I had to help you to bed. Then you begged me to stay. So I did,” she stated lightly.

  “But I woke up naked. What happened to my clothes?” I asked, trying to figure out how I ended up butt ass naked.

  “I helped you take your shirt and shoes off. Then I put your shirt on and passed out shortly after you did. You must have taken your own clothes off, D,” she laughed and I joined in finally, feeling a load lift off my chest.

  “That’s messed up, Chell. You had me scared. I woke up in a panic. Bet I won’t do that shit no more. Mess around and do that with the wrong girl, wake up, and be a baby daddy in nine months.” I got up laughing, went into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water. I felt like I had been rescued from the desert and hadn’t had liquid in days.

  “You panicked because you thought we had sex?” she asked when I returned to the couch.

  “Yeah, you my girl and I wouldn’t want to mess up our friendship and I definitely wouldn’t have wanted it to be done while I was in a drunken stupor.”

  “Yeah, I know right,” she laughed. “Sitter has to leave at 7:00, so I’m going home. What’re you doing today?” she asked, getting up from the couch and walking up the stairs toward my bedroom. I followed her and sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “I have a meeting with my agent at noon, work out at 8:00 at the Marina. Same ol’ shit, different day. You working today?” I asked, finishing off my bottle of water.

  “Yup, sure am. I’ll bring your shirt back after I do laundry, okay?” she asked as she slipped on the flip-flops she had worn over.