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Best Dressed Lie (Keisha Jackson)

Page 3

by Batiste, Kimberly


  In the midst of Zan complaining, I couldn’t jump right into the Randy and me drama. I tried to be patient and simply tune her ass out. Staring out the window, I noticed a black, four door Nissan Maxima with tinted windows into the turning lane. Before the arrow signal turned green, we caught a glimpse of someone starring at us through the tint. They just sat there. The car did not budge.

  “Who is that?” Zan asked, pulling her shades off to get a clearer view. “Don’t know, don’t care,” I said, sarcastically.

  “Is it a woman or man?” she said, stroking her hair.

  All of a sudden, the car sped off on yellow. I did not want Zan to notice my curiosity, but deep in my heart, I felt like it was just another tramp Randy was sleeping with, stalking us. I changed the subject, making a way to my venting mode.

  “How far is the damn ATM? Are we headed to the bar instead of going to the bank?”

  “I’m about to follow that car,” she said, ignoring my questions and discerning my thoughts.

  “I’m not happy, Zan,” I said, hoping she didn’t get annoyed. I needed to get this off my chest.

  “What are you talking about?” she asked quickly. “Damn it, I lost the car!”

  Whenever you want Zan’s attention, complain about leaving your man. She’d put her cigarette out for that.

  “Lately I’ve been feeling sick and depressed,” I said, breaking into tears. “I can’t get myself motivated to do anything. As soon as I wake up in the morning, I want to pull the cover over my head and just lay there. I literally drag myself out of bed to get ready for work. I’ve been having bad cramps and body aches all of a sudden. Every day after work, Randy and I argue about every little thing.”

  “Like what?” she asked, looking up and down the street trying to figure out which way the suspicious car turned.

  “He calculates how long it should take me to get home from work. Zan, I have to hide things I buy from him.”

  “What does buying yourself nice things, have to do with him?”

  “He feels like all my money should go towards the bills.”

  “Oh hell no! You need to leave him or have a sit down with him, Keisha. I’ve forever and a day made it clear I’m not a Randy fan, but both of you really need to make it work or just let each other go.”

  “I don’t trust him. I never even want to have sex with him anymore. It’s almost like I have to force the sex to calm his ass down.”

  “Keisha, you’ve been unhappy for a while now. I don’t understand how you can stay with someone like that. You give him all of you, so there is nothing left to fight with. That’s why he feels like he can cheat on you in public with other women. You let him get away with way too much.”

  “Cheating that only you and the street committee hear about and see; you’ll never understand why I’m with him. No one will,” I responded, wiping the tears from my eyes. “I’m so miserable and I don’t know how to fix this.”

  “Keisha, don’t cry. You have to have faith and ask God to give you the strength to move on; and yes, I heard about it and yes, I’ve seen it. I am your best friend and I don’t have a reason to lie on that loser. If I knew he was like this, I would have never introduced you to him. You can do better, Keisha. Do you love him that much to accept the pain he puts you through?”

  “Yes, I do love him but I’m not in love with him anymore. No matter what I do it’s never good enough for him. He complains about my weight, tells me constantly that I am too heavy; especially when I’m on top of him during sex. I have given all that I can give to this reckless relationship. He doesn’t want to commit and he belittles me all the time; you’ve seen that. All I want from him now is financial help to find my sister, like he promised.”

  “Yeah, he does say mean things about your weight in front of whoever is around when he gets pissed. He is also five years younger than you are and has a lot of growing up to do. As far as your sister, why is it so important to you to find her? Her adopted family left you in that place for nearly fourteen years. Who knows what type of message they are giving her about you. They may have told her she doesn’t have any siblings.”

  “Yeah, you may be right, but, without any family in my life, I feel alone, especially knowing there is another part of me out there. I truly believe that once she’s found, I’ll feel complete.”

  “Keisha, hire someone to help you find your sister.”

  “I’ve gotten myself into so much debt. With all of these garnishments and student loans deducted from my paycheck every week, I can’t afford to be on my own and I definitely can’t afford a private investigator.”

  “Keisha, you can afford to live on your own. Shit, if I can be on my own making way less than you, with more bills, you can do it too. You should find yourself a small one-bedroom apartment,” she said, sympathetically. “I’ll help you look for a place or you can stay with me.”

  “I really need to find a place?” I said, sarcastically ignoring the fact she said I could stay with her. She smoked inside and had a house full of sickly looking cats. I would rather be unhappy and stay with him.

  “Hey, it may not be the area that you want, but living on your own will give you peace of mind. Besides, you are an office manager for goodness sakes! You can afford an apartment.”

  “Yeah, maybe you’re right,” I said. “I refuse to spend another five years being miserable. I have plans to marry and have kids, and not with someone who tears down my selfesteem daily.”

  “Well, whatever you decide, I’m here for you. Maybe you should get the aches and cramps checked by a doctor, you could be pregnant,” she said sincerely, wiping my tears with her thumbs.

  “I doubt if I’m pregnant, we barely have sex Zan.”

  “Okay, well you still need to see a doctor. I’ll go with you if need me too.”

  I loved her so much; she was there for me. I didn’t know what I would do without her. She understood me. It was hard to find great friends and this one would always be in my life. One thing I knew for sure, she would never betray me; I trusted her with my life.

  “Zan,” I sobbed some more.

  “Keisha, stop crying now. Let’s have a little fun,” she said, aggravated and frustrated.

  “There is more. I didn’t want to mention this, but I found naked pictures in his phone.”

  “Naked pictures? When!” she snapped.

  “Three weeks ago,” I said, choked up. “He came home late and left his phone on the table before taking a shower.”

  “Home late then straight to the shower, he cheated,” she interrupted.

  “Stay focused and listen!”

  “Okay, Okay.”

  “Like I was saying, he left his phone and I broke his passcode.”

  “How?”

  “Guys have a bad memory when it comes to codes, so nine times out of ten, their passcode is always the last four digits of their social security number, the year they were born or the month and date they were born. But in his case, it was the year his grandmother died; nineteen ninety.”

  “Darn, you’re good,” she said, staring at me for more. All she needed was a bag of popcorn. “What did you see ?”

  “A picture of a black, shaved pussy, that’s what I saw!” I said, furious, re-experiencing it.

  “The way you just described that, gave me a heartbeat down there.”

  “Freak, this is not a joking matter.”

  “Just kidding,” she laughed.

  “I will always wonder who she was or is for that matter. It’s a possibility he might be screwing her,” I said, hoping Zan wanted to help me come up with a plan to catch his ass.

  “He is mighty bold to have a whore send him pictures. I don’t see how you kept that to yourself.”

  “What woman in her right mind is going to send naked pictures to a person’s phone, if he is not screwing her.”

  “How do you know that? Some of his homeboys could have texted him the picture,” Zan said, trying to make the situation better, which shocked the
hell out of me, considering she hated him.

  “I checked that already,” I said, confidently. “It was a saved pic and the phone number the picture was sent from was a pay-as-you-go phone. All of his boys have phone plans with their carrier. Hell, I even looked at the phone bill to try to find out who she was. That same number is on there during the day, when I’m at work.”

  Zan could not believe what she was hearing. She knew about the bickering and accusations of him cheating. However, I never vented about not being happy or finding possible proof of him cheating. I always believed not to ever put friends in my personal business, no matter how close we are. The last thing I wanted was my best friend knowing how much more of an asshole my boyfriend really was. The result would be her looking at him sideways when he and I were in a good place. One thing I knew for sure, friends never forget the past no matter how good the relationship gets.

  “Sneaky Bastered,” she mumbled under her breath. “I will help you get through this, but first we need to find out who she is.” She pounded her soft pack of cigarettes against the back of her thumb, craving one.

  “You took the words right out of my mouth,” I said.

  “I’m down for this, when do we start?” she said, lighting her cigarette. I was so ready to dig right into this plot.

  “I’ve come up with the idea of finding out who was calling our phone anonymously. I plan on finding someone who works for our phone carrier to try to get the name and address of the caller.”

  “That’s not possible Keisha. I don’t recommend this idea; you are putting someone’s job on the line. You should focus on the number on the bill and worry about the anonymous caller later.”

  Zan’s response to my suggestion was shocking because she was always down for whatever, especially when it came to me possibly leaving Randy. This time it seemed like she was shutting down on me.

  “The phone numbers are no longer in use, I called this morning. Besides, it won’t put their jobs on the line. No one will ever find out about this,” I said defensively .

  Before Zan could respond, her phone rang. “Who is this?” she said casually, puckering her brows staring at the caller ID.

  “Are you going to answer that?” I asked, curiously.

  “My stomach hurts. It feels like I got to shit,” she blurted out, ignoring me.

  “We’ve been driving around all this time; we’re nowhere near the bar. Looks like Sam’s Club is on the far right, I’m sure they have a public restroom,” I said.

  We pulled over and for some odd reason Zan wanted me to stay in the car. “I’ll be right back after I’m done using the restroom. Indeed to return Jason’s foster parents call in private.”

  Zan told me she was beaten, raped and ended up pregnant during her stay in New York. She gave birth to her son a couple of years before we reunited. Not having the means to take care of him, she arranged for an open adoption. She mentioned that she wanted a better life for her son and I commended her for that. The foster parents allowed her to be in his life with visitation rights.

  “Okay, take your time,” I said.

  Her being out of my sight gave me the opportunity to get this phone number investigation going. Since Zan was against it, I would keep the plan to myself. I knew the perfect person to research this information for me and her name is Kayla Richards.

  Kayla was a young, conceited, sexy man-eater from Florida. She dated older men and women occasionally. She did not like folks in her business and she never talked about her love life to anyone other than me.

  She was the type of chick that got what she wanted in a manipulative way. She loved drama. She worked with me until about 3 weeks ago when she resigned. She went to work for a wireless phone company. I was hoping she would do this favor for me as thanks for me looking out for her when the company nearly fired her ass for taking too many smoke breaks. I also let her borrow $500 to get an abortion and she never paid me back.

  I dialed her number.

  “Hello?” she answered, coughing and gagging.

  “Kayla, are you okay?” I said, frowning after hearing all of her hacking and coughing, I wanted hang up.

  She paused before asking, “Who is this?”

  “This Keisha, Keisha Jackson. We use to work together, remember?”

  “Ohhhhhh Keisha. How have you been chick?”

  Kayla did not sound too happy hearing from me. I didn’t have time for the pettiness, I got straight down to business. Not wanting to go straight to asking for string pulling, I responded nicely, “Things could be better. How’s the new job?”

  “Chile, I have my good days and bad days,” she said. “What about you? Are you still holding it down at the clinic?”

  “Barely, we’re short staffed, meaning I’m left with all the damn work.”

  “Girl, I am not surprised. Did Randy tell you I came by a couple of weeks ago?”

  “Not one word. What was the surprise visit pertaining too?”

  “I dropped off the money I borrowed from you. Did you forget?”

  I was shocked, angry and taken aback. Randy didn’t mention to me that Kayla stopped by, but I wasn’t surprised at all. Anything involving money, he became a mute.

  “What money?” I said, pretending I have amnesia.

  “The money you loaned me for the abortion.”

  “Oh, okay, I’ll check with him about it.” I was thinking it’s about damn time she paid me. As our conversation went on I noticed Zan walking towards the car. I had to get straight to the point.

  “Kayla, I need you to do me a favor.”

  “Sure, what’s wrong?”

  “It’s a long story; I’ll fill you in later,” I said. “I want you to check in the system at work and get demographics for all incoming anonymous calls into Randy’s line.”

  “No problem. When do you need it?” she said, eager to be in my business.

  “As soon as possible,” I said, not taking my eyes off Zan. As she got closer, I felt the urge to end the conversation with Kayla.

  “Okay. No problem.”

  “Thanks, Kayla.”

  “You’re welcome, talk to you soon.”

  I hurried and disconnected my call. Zan’s pissed facial expression was startling as she got in the car.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m pissed off. I stood in an extremely long line in Sam’s Club only for the little greeter to swipe my damn receipt with a highlighter. I know damn well she did not count the items in my buggy, because all I had was a pack of damn cigarettes. Now what’s the plan?” she said, irritated.

  “Are you bipolar?” I giggled. “How did you go from pissed to nonchalant?”

  “Keisha, what’s the damn plan?” she said with a grin on her face.

  “I’m rolling with whatever you suggest.”

  “Hold up, that’s your man. I’ll follow along with your ideas!” she said bouncing her unlit cigarette in my face.

  I did not feel like thinking of ideas, because I already secretly started the mission. I said the first thing that came to mind. “I say we stalk him; rent a car with tinted windows and follow his ass around.” She lit her cigarette, then turned to me and whispered with a grin on her face, “Let the fun begin.”

  Throughout our relationship trials, I was never so ready to catch him red handed. I always hoped for the best and prepared for the worst. With all the hype about catching Randy, I glanced at my phone and noticed the time. Randy expected me home at a certain time and I wanted him to show me the same respect. I was throwing in the towel and taking my ass home.

  “Well Zan, I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to get our drinks, but it’s late and I know Randy is livid right about now. He called my phone back to back; it’s on vibrate. So, I didn’t hear it.”

  “It’s only eight thirty,” Zan whined. “What about my gas money you promised?”

  “Girl I got to get home to my man and this argument we’re about to have. I’ll give you the money tomorrow.”

  “Y
our man,” she said, pissed because I was ending the night without giving her a free drink and gas money. “Make up your mind, either he’s your man or a cheater that you won’t leave,” she said, being bitter.

  “See, that’s the main reason why I don’t like to tell you my damn business. Please drive me home,” I said, pissed.

  I already knew what is in store for me when I got home. My stomach had butterflies from dreading it. I didn’t want Zan to notice I really wasn’t ready to go home, so I kept a happy look on my face. She was scanning me up and down like TSA at the airport.

  “Okay, Okay. I’ll take you home under one condition,” she said.

  Zan always tried to hustle me out of something; the nerve of her giving me an ultimatum!

  “What condition, Zan?” I said, giving her the side eye.

  “Buy me another soft pack of cigarettes and a Mountain Dew soda.”

  “Hell no, Take me home now Zan!”

  “Fine!” she said with an attitude. “See if I come to your rescue the next time you and that man of yours get into a fight.”

  “You need to stop smoking anyway,” I said, ignoring her last comment about Randy.

  “Look, I don’t need you or anybody else giving me a speech about smoking. Please keep your comments to yourself,” She said snippy. “Let me hurry and get you home so you can get out of my car.”

  I knew how to get under her skin, telling her about her smoking problems always worked. This was going to be a long ride home; once she was upset, there was no turning back .

  THREE

  After driving the long route home, we pulled into the driveway and to my surprise every light was on in the house. Randy was always complaining about the goddamn electric bill, so this was an indication he must be mighty pissed at me.

  “I’m so sick of this shit,” I muttered.

  “Dang Keisha, Randy is waiting on you girl,” she giggled. “I doubt it,” I said, unpersuasively. “He always has on every

  light in the house, and then complains about the damn light bill.” Even though I knew the truth, I would be damned if I’d let Zan know that Randy was actually sitting up waiting on my ass. That was something else to add to her list to rub in my face.

 

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