by L. Divine
“Tell your girl I thought she was smarter than she looks,” Nigel says, spitting on the ground and pacing around like a pit bull. I’ve never seen him or Mickey this hot before. They must really love each other to be going off like this.
“Shut that punk-ass, weak-ass, wannabe all-star from talking shit, before I do,” Mickey says, charging to Nigel’s car before Nellie steps in front of her, stopping her in her tracks.
“Why don’t both of you shut up,” Rah says. I agree with him. I hate when we have to show our asses in front of these white folks around here. It’s embarrassing.
“How did this start?” I ask, needing the full story. And Nellie gladly obliges my request.
“Well, Nigel went over to holler at Mickey after practice and they were getting along cool, until Mickey’s man started calling, and he kept calling until Mickey finally answered and lied about what she was doing, which of course set Nigel way the hell off.” Nellie stops to take a breath as Mickey glares at her, then continues. “So then Nigel decided to tell Mickey that he didn’t appreciate her answering the phone while they were having a serious conversation and she went off. That’s when Mickey took Nigel’s phone and started calling off all of the female names in his phone book. When she wouldn’t give it back, he called her a trifling bitch and she promptly threw his phone in the street, and then he got hers and, well, you know the rest.”
“Damn, y’all are too much,” I say, laughing at the ridiculous scene. “Can you two ever just have a normal conversation?”
“We were until she had to check in.” It sounds to me like Nigel’s hating on my girl, but he can’t have it both ways. Either they’re in a relationship or they’re cheating. He can’t have his cake and eat it too.
“The problem is y’all are in the gray and no one’s going to be happy as long as that’s the reality.” Nellie must be quoting another book because that doesn’t sound like her at all. But I do agree: the gray is never a good place to be in a relationship, which is exactly where Rah put us with his renegade move with Trish. Now we have to find our way back to some color, before we go too far, like our two friends just did.
“What?” Nigel says, snapping out of his rage long enough to laugh at Nellie’s rationalization. Chance would’ve loved to hear that one, but he’s a moment too late. And the crowd has all but dispersed, continuing their regular Friday routines now that there’s no possibility of bloodshed or ripped T-shirts.
“What’s up, y’all,” Chance says, not realizing what went down here a minute ago. “What did I miss?” As Nellie gladly fills him in on the drama, Rah comes up to me and gives me a bear hug, sweeping me off my feet. I have missed him this week.
“Stop acting crazy, girl, and be nice to me. You see what all that heat can do to a nigga?” He does have a point. I wonder if I’m just tripping because I’m afraid of being happy with Rah. A part of it is guilt, but I think it’s mostly fear.
“I’m not acting crazy,” I say as he puts me down and looks down at me, his hands still around my waist. Why does he have to be so fine and right? “I’ll stop being mean to you for now, but we need to talk.”
“Nigel, Mickey, are y’all okay?” Rah says, walking toward his boy’s car to check on him one last time. Mickey and Nellie have Chance to escort them home, so I’m not worried about my girls.
“Yeah man, I’m cool,” Nigel says, taking a last look at Mickey before getting in his ride and blasting Earth, Wind & Fire’s “Reasons” on his stereo. That’s my song for when I’m really feeling the love blues. Now I’m positive that he loves her. I’m just not so sure that Mickey feels the same away about Nigel.
“All right then, man. We gon’ roll out, but holla if you need anything,” Rah says, giving Nigel dap before joining me at his vehicle. “Mickey, you good?”
“Yeah, just tell your boy he owes me a phone,” Mickey says, not missing a bitchy beat. She’s a completely different type of bitch than the one they describe in Nellie’s book, but a powerful survivor nonetheless.
“Mickey, didn’t you destroy his phone first?” I say, not meaning to bring it up, but it is true. I don’t know the whole story, but I do know Nigel, and he wouldn’t take anyone’s property without being provoked first. And Mickey’s just the girl to push his buttons.
“That’s not the point, Jayd, and whose side are you on anyway?” Mickey says as everyone waits for my response. Why is she putting me on the spot? I’m not the one who just committed a misdemeanor, even though I have done it myself a time or two.
“I’m not on anyone’s side because y’all are both in the wrong as far as I can see. But you’re both my friends and I don’t want to see either of you hurt.” Nigel, unmoved by my speech, nods his head at Rah and Chance and screeches out of the parking lot. “Mickey, you know you were wrong for snatching his phone,” I say, opening the passenger door and sliding into the seat, ready to get my grub on. I was already starving, but this madness has made me even hungrier.
“Yeah, that was a foul move. But he shouldn’t have taken your phone either. Why don’t you two just call it even,” Rah says, opening his door and waiting for Mickey’s reply before getting in. I can hear his stomach growling too.
“I don’t remember asking for either of your comments. Please keep your opinions to yourself,” Mickey says, getting in her car. “And Nellie, you can’t ride with me until you stop reading those damned self-help books,” she says, blasting Mary J. and rolling off, leaving Nellie to ride home with Chance, who I’m sure doesn’t mind the inconvenience.
“That’s your girl,” Nellie says, falling into Chance’s arms as Rah and I settle in for the ride to Inglewood. In and Out is on the way and I know he’s headed straight there.
“She was your girl first,” I say, smiling at her as we pull off and they get into Chance’s Nova, ready to enjoy the rest of the afternoon. I feel bad for Mickey and Nigel. They kind of remind me of Romeo and Juliet, in a twisted, ghetto sort of way. I think Mickey thinks she can’t leave her man because they’ve been together forever, and he’s accepted and well-respected in her hood. Same thing with Nigel, which is what I also suspect with Rah; they can’t give up their links to the uppity black club. It’s tragic, really, and I don’t want to be a victim of their insane worlds. I just want to eat, be merry, and live life to the fullest. What’s so bad about that?
When Rah and I pull up to my mom’s apartment complex, I notice that her car isn’t here. We decide to take our food upstairs and watch a movie. Rah has decided to call it a night for his clients and to chill with me for the rest of the evening. As we grab all of the bags out of the car, I feel like someone’s watching us. Not like when Esmeralda had her eye on me, but like someone’s really staring me down.
“Do you feel someone’s eyes on you?” I ask as we cross the street to the long driveway leading to the apartments. I keep looking over my shoulder, waiting for someone to jump out of the bushes.
“No. That crazy neighbor still got you shaken up from last weekend,” Rah says, reminding me of my headache that wouldn’t go away. My temples throb just thinking about that mistake.
“No, this is something else.” As we walk further, up approaching my mother’s hall, a car I don’t recognize rolls by slowly and then speeds off down La Brea. What the hell was that? “Anyone you know?” I say, leading the way up the stairs to open my mom’s door.
“No. I don’t know anyone who gets down like that or knows where your mom lives,” he says, looking over his shoulder before stepping into the living room.
“You don’t think your girl’s capable of stalking?” I say, putting my weekend bag down on the floor before putting the food on the table. Rah puts the drinks and my backpack on the coffee table and looks at me, very amused. “I don’t remember telling a joke,” I say, washing my hands in the kitchen sink as he follows my lead and does the same.
“Jayd, do you really think I’d be with someone who’s capable of going off like that?” he says, grabbing one of the two kitchen towel
s hanging over the sink and drying his hands. Men are so silly when it comes to judging women, I swear.
“Now, where have I heard this before? Oh, from every man I’ve ever talked to, including you,” I say, throwing my towel at him before going back into the living room to retrieve my food.
“Whatever, Jayd. Look, Trish has way more class than that,” he says, sitting on the couch next to me and grabbing the remote, turning the television on. “And it’s an open relationship, which means she can date other people too. So she can’t be that mad.”
“You can’t be serious,” I say, taking a long swig of my chocolate milkshake before devouring my box of food. I don’t usually eat red meat. But these burgers are an exception. “Not everyone wants to date around like you, Mac Daddy.”
“Yeah, but she’s cool with it. That’s all that matters.” I can’t believe how stupid guys can be when it comes to the cookies.
“Rah, remember what you witnessed today and you’ve already seen Trish and Mickey go at it,” I say, recalling the last time we encountered his and Nigel’s girlfriends at a session. “It’s a thin line between love and insanity, so remember that the next time you underestimate the competition.” Rah hates to admit it, but he knows I’m right. Rah doesn’t like to talk about his relationship with Sandy, my former friend from junior high school, and his baby-mama too often because that chick is definitely off her rocker and he’s still trying to find his daughter. I hope I’m being paranoid, but I also know better than to doubt my intuition. When it comes to love, even the most dignified broad can become a hoodrat overnight, if she feels justified in fighting for her man. And that justification doesn’t always have to make sense to anyone else.
10
Chickenheads
“You don’t have to kill your dreams/ Plottin’ schemes on a man.”
—TUPAC SHAKUR
When I get on the bus this morning, it’s foggy and cold. Rah offered to take me to work, but I don’t mind the half-hour ride. It’s always interesting to see how La Brea changes scenery from Inglewood to View Park, and all the way into Hollywood if I kept on the same route. How money grows in one direction never ceases to amaze me.
“Jayd, I’m glad you’re early,” Marty says. Why does she talk to me like we’re old pals? If I saw her on the street somewhere I’d never talk to her or hear her talking to me. But in this situation, I’m forced to deal with this trick in more ways than one.
“Oh really? And why is that? Did I miss a spot on the toilet last week?” I’m sure she’ll make a note of my smart-ass remark and I’m not even on the clock yet.
“No, I actually wanted to know if you know anything about missing receipts from the register.” I know this broad isn’t serious. Did she just have the nerve to ask me about my register when she’s had her hands in it the entire time she’s been working here? If this ain’t a setup then I don’t know what is.
“Marty, you’ve clocked me out most of the time. Why don’t you tell me,” I say, marching toward the office. I know Shahid is here because his Jag is parked out front. Something’s got to be done about this trick, and now.
“We need to talk,” I say, opening the office door after giving a warning knock. Shahid says he has an open-door policy, but I’ve never needed to use it until now.
“Good morning to you too, Jayd,” he says, grinning as he counts his cash for this morning’s register. I’d love to be in his shoes. Well, not right now because he’s about to catch my rage for hiring this broad. “What’s on your mind?”
“Marty’s trifling management skills, that’s what,” I say, with her standing right behind me. I couldn’t care less about getting fired today. She’s already cut half my hours, so I’m seeing less of the point of coming to work every day when I could be using the time to look for another job. The only thing I would care about is that I wouldn’t be able to collect unemployment if I get fired, and that would suck.
“Now wait a minute, young lady, let’s all calm down,” Shahid says, sensing my attitude is a force to be reckoned with. And, this morning, it most certainly is.
“Calm down nothing. Your new manager just asked me about missing receipts and she’s cashed my register out every weekend since she took over. Not to mention the fact that she cut my hours in half,” I say, rolling my neck I’m so hot. The only time I let my ghetto girl shine in front of Shahid is when I’ve really had it, like now. If I’m going to lose my job, it’s going to have something to do with cussing Marty out.
“Wait a minute, what are you talking about? Marty, is any of this accurate?” he says, putting down his stack of cash and rising to meet our eyes. Marty steps into the small space, standing right next to me, and from the look on her face she’s thinking carefully about her next move.
“I simply asked Jayd if she knew where the extra receipts were from last weekend. I noticed they weren’t in the bag with the rest of them,” Marty says, quickly changing her tune. Now let’s watch her justify messing with my schedule.
“And what about her hours?” Shahid says, reading my mind. I hope he’s not falling for her act. Where’s Summer? She can spot a liar’s scent from a mile away. Even if Summer did ask her to adjust the hours, she would have to be on my side if she witnessed this mess.
“Well, I went through the schedule and compared it to our slowest hours, which coincide with the weekend afternoons. It wasn’t personal, but Sarah has a family and I thought she could use the hours more than Jayd.” Damn, she’s good. Like I told Rah last night, it’s dangerous to underestimate the competition.
“You didn’t ask me about changing the schedule,” Shahid says, not backing down. “Jayd’s had a solid schedule for over a year and that’s a big adjustment,” he says, looking across the desk at Marty and back to me. I know he’s asking himself whose side he should take. Men never like to be caught between two women arguing. I know that from living in a house full of them.
“Oh, I didn’t know,” she says, trying to save face. But she did know after I told her. She should have backed off then, but no. She’s trying to shake me and I don’t appreciate it.
“Yes, you did, and you didn’t say anything about Sarah when you told me last weekend,” I say, shocking Shahid. I want him to get the entire picture.
“Last weekend? Why am I just finding out about this, Marty?” Shahid says. Now this is what I’m talking about. Sarah and Alonzo walk in, right on time for the real fireworks to begin.
“Shahid, Summer asked me to make some effective changes and to be firm, and that’s what I thought I did,” she says, playing on his sympathy and the fact that Summer’s not here to validate her claim. If Marty’s lying, she’s just buying herself some time until Shahid kicks her out on her chubby little ass.
“I agree, we can use some tightening up around here,” Shahid says, rubbing his temples and sitting back down in his chair. He looks more tired than usual. “But cutting back on people’s hours isn’t the first answer to the problem,” he says. From what I just heard, I got my hours back. I don’t know how I’m going to work the rest of the day with Marty on the same shift, but I feel better now that I’ve at least shown her that I can’t be intimidated. She’s no match for me, but I do have to find a different approach to getting her ass out of here for good.
“You’re right, I apologize for being overzealous,” she says, looking like a scolded puppy. I look over my shoulder and notice Sarah and Alonzo smiling. They give me a silent handclap and go clock in, which reminds me that I haven’t done that myself.
“Can I go clock in now?” I ask, not wanting to interrupt Marty’s fake apology, but I don’t come here to give my time away freely.
“Yeah, Jayd, go ahead. And we’ll talk about your schedule tomorrow after I have a chance to talk to Summer,” Shahid says, resuming his money count.
“So you mean there’s still a chance I could lose my hours?” I say in disbelief. How can this be happening? He admitted that Marty made a mistake and yet I’m going to lose my money. Wha
t the hell?
“Jayd, I have to verify the schedule with Summer. She’s always had the last say, since she spends the most time with the other employees.”
“I don’t understand. This was Marty’s mistake and I could still get burned. I thought you said you’d always have our backs when you hired us. What happened to that manager? You know what, I’m suddenly feeling nauseous. I need to take a sick day,” I say, turning around and strutting out of the restaurant. I’m tired of fighting a losing battle, at least for today. I wonder if Rah wants to play sick with me?
“What’s up, Jayd?” he says, sounding like I woke him up out of a dead sleep. It’s barely eight in the morning and he didn’t leave my mom’s house until well after midnight. We fell asleep on the couch while watching a movie. We’re not one hundred percent back to nice, but we’re getting there. He’s a good friend first and foremost, and that fact always saves his ass.
“What’s up is I need a ride. I’m trying to make a dramatic exit from work and the bus won’t do,” I say, waving bye to Sarah and Alonzo, who don’t look surprised by my actions. They know just like I do that my days are numbered at Simply Wholesome. I need a backup income plan, and fast.
“Girl, you’re too much,” he says, sounding more awake and slightly amused. “This is why I love you. But couldn’t you have caused a scene at lunchtime or something?”
“I see you’ve got sunrise jokes,” I say, laughing at his silly self. I’m glad I have Rah to call on again.
“Ain’t a damned thing funny about losing sleep. That’s right up there with playing with my money, girl.”
“So you feel me,” I say, already knowing he does. If anyone understands about not letting someone jack up your funds, it’s Rah. He has several investments and he’s only seventeen. He learned from his mom’s bad money management skills and his dad’s hustling how to make money and keep it. Most would call him cheap, but I just think he’s good with his money. He could be rolling a sixty-seven Chevelle Malibu—his dream car. But he opted for his mom’s used car and has been saving every dime he makes to work on his music and to support him and his little brother. Yes, the brother has his strong points no matter how much he works my nerves.