I had to take a step back. “I don’t remember inviting you to come by.” One thing I hated was for a female to know where I lived. The only reason why Tameka knew my address was because she met me coming out the building.
“I need to talk to you.”
“About what?” Now I had attitude. I had a wonderful evening and now she was trying to mess that up for me.
“Us.”
I couldn’t help it, but I laughed in her face. “There is no us. We were together and you messed that shit up acting all psycho.”
“That’s because you don’t know how to act. I don’t know how many times I gotta tell you, if you going to be my man, you need to come correct. I don’t have time for you trying to be with me and the next bitch and then dodging my calls,” she added with a bite to her tone.
“That’s why we’re not even together anymore.”
“But we can be. That’s why I’m here, so we can work it out.” She rubbed on her breasts trying to intimidate a man. She moved forward, swinging her hips and licking her lips, reminding me how good they had felt wrapped around my dick. “You know you’re not ready to let this go,” she replied, then moved close enough for her breasts to rub up against my chest.
I stepped back, trying to put some distance between us. The whole time I was shaking my head in amazement at how persistent she was. Tameka knew damn well it was over between us, so I don’t know why she was wasting her time trying to convince me otherwise.
“Sweetheart, you want something that I can’t give you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. No woman will ever make you feel like I can,” she smirked.
That’s where she was wrong. I had spent the evening with a woman who made me feel like anything was possible. She was beautiful and independent. I like Candace a lot. We hadn’t talked about a commitment, but I had a good feeling about the two of us. I wanted to get to know her better, and in order to do that, I didn’t need any drama coming our way.
“Yo, Tameka. Take your ass home.” I waved good-bye and started up the stairs. Don’t you know that crazy chick tossed her purse at me? And I’m not talking about a small clutch purse. I’m talking about one of those big-ass purses women carried around with every damn thing in it like it’s a suitcase. “What the fuck!”
She raised her voice. “Don’t turn your back on me. We aren’t finished until I say we’re finished!”
I was still rubbing the back of my head when my cell phone rang. I looked down at the number then hit Talk. “Hey, whassup?”
“Hey, you. Where you at?” said a voice on the other end that made me smile. I guess Tameka noticed because she moved all up in my face.
“Who the fuck you talking to?”
I ignored Tamka’s outburst and moved across the grass. “Hey, Linda. What’s up wit ya?”
“I need to talk to you,” she replied quickly over the phone. “Where you at?”
“I’m just getting back to the Y,” I said, turning away from the evil look on Tameka’s face.
“Meet me around the block in five minutes.”
I glanced down at my watch. “All right. I’m on my way.”
“On your way where?” Tameka demanded to know the second I ended the call. “I asked you a question. Don’t make me break my foot off in your ass,” she warned.
Can you believe the audacity of this chick? I glared in her direction. Tameka had her hand on her hips looking at me like she was seconds away from kicking my ass. That’s one of the reasons why I couldn’t stand her. Straight drama. The other reason was she was too damn ghetto. “I’m gonna go mind my business just like you need to do.” I brushed past her and headed down the street.
Of course, she screamed after me. “Chauncey! It ain’t over until I say it’s over. You forget . . . I know everything about you.”
The comment made me pause and look over my shoulder. Tameka was right. She knew more about me than I wish she knew. But she had been the first person I been with since my release from prison who hadn’t seemed to mind that I had been locked up. Some women had a problem with that. I should have known Tameka would try and throw that back in my face.
“What would your date think if she knew what I knew?” She then had the nerve to smirk. Did that chick really think she had my balls in her hands?
“The best thing for you to do is keep that information to yourself.” There was silence for a while. I thought that maybe I had finally gotten to her. But I should have known better.
“Keep playing with my emotions and watch and see what I do,” she warned.
I flicked her off, then walked away, ignoring her screaming at the top of her lungs. This was one of those times when I didn’t mind calling a female a bitch. The chick was straight gutter and there was no telling what she would do. One thing for sure, I didn’t want Candace to find out about my past before I had a chance to tell her myself.
I glanced over my shoulder a couple of times to make sure Tameka wasn’t following me. Thank goodness she wasn’t. By the time I stepped inside Charlie’s, a small soul food restaurant with the best barbecue in town, even in the wee hours of the morning, Linda was already sitting at a booth. I moved toward the twenty-two-year-old, voluptuous woman with dark chocolate skin. She was a beautiful big-boned woman with long dark hair, big eyes and full lips, all evidence of her Nigerian background.
“Hey, you,” I said with a smile and flopped down on the bench across from her.
“How you been, big brother?” Linda rose and leaned over the table and kissed my cheek. She looked so much like the small picture I kept in my top drawer of my father. He was the same man my mother put out when I was barely four. The way my uncle Jeff told it, Linda’s mother appeared on our doorstep with baby Linda on her hip, demanding to speak to my father. It seemed he had been shacking up with her only a couple of blocks away. My mother put him out on his ass and never forgave him for messing around with Linda’s mama. The tripped out part about it was, I hadn’t even known I had a sister until I was locked up and received a letter from her. Linda told me her daddy handed her the newspaper, pointed to my picture, and said, “That’s your brother,” then walked out the room. That evening, she wrote me a letter and soon we became pen pals. Linda even kept money on my books. Something no one else bothered to do for me. Not even my own mama.
I try not to go there, but every time I let myself, it pissed me off. The day I was convicted, Mama turned her back on me and never once looked back. When I was released, I was sent to a halfway house and I tried calling Mama, but the second she realized it was me, she slammed the phone down.
“You all dressed up. Where you been?” Linda asked, snapping my mind from the past. I couldn’t do anything but grin.
“You’re nosy, aren’t you?”
Nodding, she pushed a strand of hair from her face. “I’m your little sister. We’re supposed to be nosy.”
I laughed because I often wondered what it would have been like if we’d had the chance to grow up together. “I had a date.”
Linda sat back with a look of disgust. “A date? I hope it wasn’t another one of them chicken heads you seem to be attracted to.”
I shook my head. “Nah, this girl is different.”
My sister must have read something in my eyes because she suddenly sat up on the chair. “Different . . . how?”
I smiled proudly. It felt good having someone in my life I could honestly talk about. “Linda, this chick ain’t about what she can get or what I can do for her. She works, goes to school at night, and when she’s not doing that, she is trying to raise her three-year-old daughter.”
Linda looked impressed. “I like her already.”
I sighed. “So do I. I can already tell she’s going to be really special.”
One of her eyebrows flew up. “Ooh! Big brother, this sounds serious.”
I shrugged and took a moment because I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. “I wouldn’t say all that. However, I’m not counting out that possibil
ity.”
“Well, that’s a lot better than your bed hopping.”
Linda assumed I slept with every female I’ve gone out with. I know one thing for sure. I never slept with her best friend, Trina. She was sexy as all get out, but the second that chick slipped off her panties, I caught a whiff of her funky coochie and my dick refused to get hard. A woman had to have good hygiene to be with me. I guess her girl was too embarrassed to tell Linda the truth.
She leaned in closer to the table. “So when do I get to meet her?”
I laughed. My sister can be so persistent. “When the time comes, you’ll be the first to meet her.”
“I guess I can settle for that for now.” The waitress arrived and we both ordered strawberry soda pop and rib tips. As soon as she moved to the next table, Linda cleared her throat and looked down at her acrylic fingernails. I instantly knew something was up. “I need to ask you a favor.”
“Sure, what?” I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like what she had to say.
Linda reached across the table and took my hand. “Next month is our family reunion and I would like for you to come.”
I hesitated. “And what does dear old Dad have to say about that?”
She gave me a devilish grin. “I was planning to surprise him.”
“No thanks. I’ll pass.” My father hadn’t made an attempt to be in my life since I was 6 years old, so why the fuck should I? Back then he used to come by Ms. Hattie’s house. She was the old lady who kept me until she passed away. Dad used to come by after work and spend time with me playing in the yard or just sitting and talking in the living room. But after Ms. Hattie died, all that stopped and I never saw him again. When I asked my mother why, she said he was too busy with his other family to have time for me.
“Come on. I think it’s time you and Daddy talked,” she pleaded with her eyes.
“Daddy knew where I was for five years and never once did he bother to send me a letter.” I didn’t mean to snap, but it was what it was.
“No, maybe he didn’t; but he told me about you and knew we were writing each other,” she quickly said in his defense, and pulled her hand back. “Come on. It would really mean the world to your little sister.”
“You had to throw in the little sister part.”
“Whatever it takes.” She was grinning from ear to ear. “You can even bring your new girlfriend and her daughter.” Her eyes were locked on me waiting for an answer.
“I’ll think about it.”
Apparently my answer wasn’t good enough. She folded her arms, locking her eyes with mine. “Well, think hard. I really need you there.” I could hear the desperation in her voice.
“Need me? Why?”
She reached down for a roll and avoided eye contact. “I met someone myself.”
I groaned. I knew her sneaky behind was up to something. “I don’t know if I want to hear this.”
Linda started screaming and laughing at the same time. “Chauncey, you’ve got to listen to me!”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “All right. Just save all the explicit details.”
“Okay . . .” she paused long enough to take a deep breath. “I’m in love.”
“In love? Woah! Back up a second.” I sat back in the chair. “I thought you just said you met someone?”
“I did . . . four months ago.” She looked happy. Unfortunately, it was hard for me to think of my sister with some dude who had the same needs that I did. The difference was he was doing it with my sister. “His name is Tommy and he’s a medical student. I met him while he was doing clinical rotations on the surgery wing. He’s from Detroit and comes from a big family, and he’s sweet and kind and—”
Raising a hand in the air, I cut her off right there. “Slow down. You’re wearing me out,” I said. I was jealous at the thought of having to share my sister, especially since I hadn’t known I had one for so long. Since I had been paroled, we spent the last eighteen months hanging out and getting to really know each other, and I realized despite our growing up in two different worlds we had so much in common.
“I’m just glad I can finally get this off my chest and talk to someone about it,” Linda replied with a sigh of relief.
I just wished she was sharing her love life with someone other than me. Like I said, it’s hard for a brother to think of some man banging his sister. “What about your mom or your girl Trina?”
She turned up her nose. “Mama would tell Daddy, and Trina is too miserable right now to be happy for me. Besides, that’s why I have my big brother.”
It was hard, but I forced a smile. I wanted to be happy for my sister; really, I did, especially since she was happy about me and Candace. “So when do I get to meet this cat?”
Leaning back against her chair, she smiled. “How about we go to dinner next week? My treat. That way we can talk about the reunion and come up with a plan as to how I’m going to introduce Tommy to Daddy.”
“I can’t wait,” I mumbled under my breath. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for my little sister. I just hope this wasn’t one time I later regretted.
14
Noelle
“Ooh, Noelle, you are the bomb! My hair looks so good, Michael might suggest we forget about the class reunion and stay home in bed instead.”
“Girlfriend, puhleeze, you better tell that man there’s plenty of time for that later. What he needs to be doing is buying you a new dress and shoes to go with your new look.” I spent the last two hours trying to get the weave out her head that someone glued to what little hair she had. Then I washed, dried, and gave her a short cut that was so flattering to her face you would have thought I had created the look. “And another thing . . . next time you let someone glue that mess in your hair, don’t bring your behind to me. I don’t know what y’all be thinking,” I mumbled under my breath. It was enough my feelings were hurt that she had gone to someone other than me to do her hair just to save a few dollars. “You see where being cheap got you.”
“Don’t worry, Noelle,” she reassured. “For now on, won’t no one else be touching my head but you. Trust and believe.”
“You better not,” I warned, and couldn’t help but smile when she handed me a twenty-dollar tip, then headed out the door, strutting like she was on someone’s runway. That’s one of the reasons why I loved doing hair. I was an artist who got to be creative and afterward could see the finished product. Today, I was grinning and watching the girls on the couch, staring and admiring Christy’s hair. I loved making my clients look good. You might have walked in looking like Chewbacca, but I guarantee you’d leave looking as sexy as Beyoncé.
I straightened up my area, then stepped across my pink and white checkered floor. Situations was a full-service salon. There were six stylists, three nail technicians, and Chauncey, who only did pedicures, and I even had someone in the back room, hooking up eyebrows and any other area of the body you needed waxed. Last year I decided to stop giving my money away to the Vietnamese and opened a shop in the front where we sold weave as well as hair care products, earrings, sunglasses, you name it. I believed in one-stop shopping and made sure my customers felt right at home the second they stepped inside my salon. That’s why I had three couches for their lounging pleasure situated in front of a fifty-inch LCD television with every channel you could think of. Right now, the women in the front were watching All My Children.
“Tiffany, I’m going to my office,” I said as I moved toward the back. She nodded, then continued yapping on her cell phone while she flatironed her client’s head. I said it I don’t know how many times for my stylists to show good customer service when in my salon, and that meant saving the personal calls for breaks. At the end of the day she and I were going to have a little talk. It was bad enough Chauncey had those hoochies coming in here disrespecting my salon. As a matter of fact, I planned to schedule a staff meeting an hour before the salon opened on Thursday just to remind my staff who’s boss. If only I could say the same about my home. I had ab
solutely no control. On Friday, Scott had called with some excuse as to why he couldn’t come home over the weekend, something about the coach ordering a mandatory meeting with the entire team. What was even worse was Grant was still hanging out way too much with his boys.
I grabbed a pop out the break room, then moved into my office. As soon as I took a seat, I slipped off my shoes and reached for the phone. “Hello? Ms. Santiago? Hi . . . this is Noelle . . . just checking to see how my grandbaby is doing.”
“She’s doing just fine. I just fed her and she’s in her swing about to fall asleep.” Her words brought a smile to my face.
That little girl had wiggled her way into my heart. I guess because she reminded me so much of Scott when he was a baby, or maybe because through her I finally had a little girl to spoil. “Good. Glad to hear it. Has she been crying a lot?”
“No, she is adjusting just fine. Relax, I got this under control.”
“I know you do.” I was so glad Tiffany had a good friend whose mother had a home daycare center. She limited her daycare to five children under five. Mrs. Santiago’s husband was a minister, which made the deal even sweeter. The second I stepped into their home, I felt welcomed and knew they would take good care of Sierra.
We chatted a few seconds longer, then I got off the phone and logged in to my e-mail. As soon as I checked my incoming mail, I got mad. Grant used to send me a long romantic e-mail every morning, but lately he barely sent me three words. Ever since DCFS agreed to let me keep Sierra, the e-mails had stopped. I don’t know why he was so against us keeping our grandchild. He always loved children, yet he wanted almost nothing to do with his own flesh and blood. I couldn’t understand what had gotten in to him. Grant told me over the weekend he felt like we were getting in the middle of something that should be between Scott and his baby’s mama. But I disagreed. Right now, we didn’t even know who her mother was, and it wasn’t like I asked her to abandon Sierra on our doorstep. What did he expect me to do? Just turn her over to the foster care system? I felt it was our duty as grandparents to provide for our grandchild. The old Grant would have agreed. This new person who was sleeping beside me every night, I had no idea where he came from, but wherever it was, I wished he’d take his ass back there and send my husband home. Grant had been hanging out almost three nights a week. Coming up with every excuse he could not to be around. I couldn’t understand it. Lately, all we did was argue.
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