“I’m sorry I’m late,” I add. “I needed to talk to my history teacher after school, and it took longer than I thought.” Mimi’s mom drove me here, since she has a hair appointment with Miss Marilee.
“You’re fine, dear. I’m glad you were able to make it. How was school?”
I stick my backpack behind the reception desk. “It was okay.” Glancing around, I ask, “Where do you want me to start?”
Before Miss Marilee can respond, a skinny woman with flaming red hair, tight designer jeans, and red stiletto heels bursts through the entrance. “Can you believe it? I just got a ticket for jaywalking,” she complains. “I told the policeman that I was Samuel Goldberg’s wife. He still gave me the ticket.”
I glance over at Miss Marilee and then back at the client with the blinging jewelry. Who is this lady? I want to ask. And who is Samuel Goldberg and why should anyone care?
“He showed me no respect, Marilee. Not an ounce.”
The red baron is still complaining when I leave Miss Marilee’s side to take some hair products to China. I make a mental note to Google this Samuel Goldberg.
I escort Mimi’s mom to the shampoo bowl to wash her hair. Like Mimi, she wears a weave.
“Miss Dean, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure, Rhyann. What is it?”
“How did you get the nickname Dean?” Her name is really Deianira, which I think is really pretty, but everybody calls her Dean.
“When I was born, my brother couldn’t pronounce my name, so he just called me Dean. It stuck, and I’ve been called that ever since.”
“Where’s that girl?” I hear the red baron ask. I glance around, trying to figure out who she’s talking about.
“Marilee, don’t you have a new girl working for you?”
“Yes,” Miss Marilee says. “Her name is Rhyann.”
“Why is she asking about me?” I mumble.
“Did you say something, Rhyann?” Miss Dean asks.
“No, ma’am. Just talking out loud,” I respond as I rinse the shampoo out of her hair. I give it one more thorough washing before applying conditioner and setting her under a dryer per Miss Marilee’s instructions.
The red baron struts over to me and has the nerve to say, “I’d like a latte and, oh, some of Marilee’s delicious lemon cake.”
My hands on my hips, I look at her as if she’s lost her mind. I guess the word “please” is not in her vocabulary. I hope she knows that I’m not her maid.
She scans me from head to toe. “Pretty girls should always wear a smile. Especially if you’re dealing with clients.”
“My name is Rhyann.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” she says. “Now would you please get me that latte and a slice of cake? Marilee knows how much I adore her treats.”
Whatever.
My gaze travels to Miss Marilee, who gives me a slight nod. I guess it is part of my job to cater to ungrateful Jewish women. Well, at least I’ll be done by the end of the week.
I bring Mimi’s mom back over to the shampoo bowl and rinse her out. Once I have her in Miss Marilee’s chair, it’s time for the red baron to get her hair washed.
I give that bright red hair a good washing and send her off to Miss Marilee, but the red baron doesn’t tip me a penny.
Talk about a cheapskate.
“How was your first day at work?” my aunt asks when I enter the house four hours later.
“It was fine until the red baron came into the salon,” I answer, dropping my fake Gucci purse on the living room sofa. “I’m not a racist or anything, Auntie Mo, but I can’t really say the same for her. She kept calling me girl, even after I told her my name several times. And she didn’t even leave me a tip. China told me that she never tips anybody, not even Miss Marilee.”
“Maybe she is hard of hearing,” Auntie Mo suggests.
I shake my head no. “I’m pretty sure she knew my name. I heard her asking Miss Marilee about me, and then I told her my name again. She’s nothing but an old cheap Jew.”
“Rhyann!” she cries. “Sweetheart, I don’t ever want to hear that come out of your mouth again.”
“Well, it’s the truth.”
“It’s not a nice thing to say.”
“I’ve heard you say it, Auntie Mo. Maybe not in those words, but the meaning is the same. Just yesterday you came home talking about how cheap Mr. Cohen is.”
She’s silent for a moment, catching herself. “Then I was at fault. I was a little upset over having to work the dinner party tonight. It doesn’t matter, though, because we should never say things like that, Rhyann. It’s hurtful and it’s wrong.”
“They say mean things about us all the time.”
“But we don’t have to do wrong for wrong, do we?” Auntie Mo asks.
I lower my head. “No, ma’am.”
“Chances are, you won’t see her again, since you’re only working there this week to pay off your bill. Go to the salon and be nice, Rhyann. You can do that for the next few days, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I stop by my brothers’ room to check Phillip’s homework. Auntie Mo says she doesn’t understand all this new math, so I usually help him with this subject. I check his other homework, too.
After I finish, I’m not happy. “You know you can do a better job than this,” I say. “Phillip, you need to rewrite your book report.”
“Auntie Mo said it was fine.”
“It’s not bad, but I know you can do a much better job. Some of this is redundant. Just go back over it one more time. Always do your best—that’s what Mommy always used to say.”
“If I make the corrections, will you type it up for me?” he asks with a hopeful expression.
“It was supposed to be typed?”
“The teacher said we’d get five extra points if we typed it,” Phillip replies. “I didn’t do it because Brady was on the computer all evening.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Why didn’t you go into my room and get on my computer?”
“I tried to call you and ask, but you didn’t answer your phone.”
Finally I give in. “I’ll type it this time, but Phillip…don’t be trying to play me. You know you could’ve used my computer for homework.”
He gives me a hug. “Thanks, sis.”
“This is the last time, Phillip. I mean it.”
“Okay.”
After my bath, I get on my computer and log onto my online journal to write something that’s been in my head for a couple of days now. One of my favorite things to do is writing poetry. Writing always makes me feel better.
May 5th
My first day at the Crowning Glory Hair Salon went okay except for the redheaded Jewish woman that came in. She got on my nerves big time, but after this week I won’t have to see her ever again. Miss Marilee is real nice and so is her daughter, China, who is pregnant. I heard one of the other hairstylists say she’s trying to deliver the baby in the salon. She’s due tomorrow and still working. I hope she waits until I’m not working there—I don’t do babies.
Here is something I’ve been playing around with and need to put it down so I won’t forget it.
She sits alone for hours on end, thinking about where she went wrong
I don’t know where I belong
Am I to blame?
Oh what a crying shame
She stares in the mirror and wonders if she’s pretty enough
Did I have a zit? Am I too thin? Or am I just too tough?
All she wants is a chance
To travel the road to romance
It would be nice to date the boy she knows so well
But then it might turn into relationship hell
So she decides that it’s better to remain friends even though heartstrings tug
At the sight of his smile, his laughter and even his shrug
No happy ending here
All because it’s a broken heart I fear.
I read over what I’ve type
d so far. I don’t have a title for it yet, so I save it as untitled14. My titles don’t always come to me when I write my poems.
I write a couple of entries in my journal before getting off the computer. NCIS is about to come on, and I do my best to never miss an episode. I love that show.
I’m playing around with the idea of studying forensics, but I’m not totally sold on the idea yet.
Life can be such a challenge sometimes. I’m too young to live alone and stuff, but I’m supposed to know what I want to study in college or what I want to do as a career—which, by the way, has changed so many times over the years.
I’m smart and I’m not ashamed to admit it. I’ve made straight As for the past six or seven years. I work hard in school because I want to get as far away from the Jungle as possible. It would be a welcome change not to have the sound of helicopters, gunshots, or police sirens lulling me to sleep at night.
Chapter 8
Thankfully, the rest of the week goes off without a hitch.
“Miss Marilee, I want to say thanks for letting me work off my bill,” I tell her on Friday. “I’ve been thinking that if you still need me, I’d like to stay on. If you can’t afford to pay me, it’s okay, because I’d be happy just getting my tips and getting my hair done every weekend. I can even work on Saturdays if you need me. That’s much better than my trying to make money stuffing envelopes. That’s such a scam.”
“Rhyann, how about I pay you minimum wage plus tips and you still get your hair done weekly?” Miss Marilee counters with a smile. “However, working here can’t interfere with your schoolwork, and I’m going to call your aunt just to be sure it’s okay with her.”
I hug her. “Thanks so much, Miss Marilee. Auntie Mo isn’t gonna mind me working part-time as long as I keep my grades up.”
“Did you really stuff envelopes?” she asks.
“Yes. I sure did. I was trying to make extra money because I want to go to college. I even have an online business selling greeting cards and stuff, but I’m not making a lot of money.”
“You’re quite the entrepreneur. That’s wonderful.”
I run my fingers through my curls. “My aunt’s done a lot for me and my brothers and sister. I don’t want to depend on her forever, so I have to do something to help myself.”
“I’m thrilled to have you on board, Rhyann.”
That makes me feel great. Miss Marilee is so nice. “I really appreciate you giving me a chance. This is my first real job, and I promise not to let you down.”
“You can fill out the necessary paperwork when you come in on Tuesday.”
Chester is outside waiting for me in his car.
“Miss Marilee gave me the job permanently,” I announce when I settle down in the front passenger seat. “I have a job.”
“Good for you,” he says, pleased. “I’m proud of you.”
“I’m planning on saving my paycheck and living off my tips and the allowance Auntie Mo gives me.”
“I like that. You’re being smart.” He jabs his thumb behind him. “You need to teach that to your brother. Brady spends his money as soon as he gets it.”
“He’ll learn when he’s tired of being broke. I don’t like not having money.”
“Me neither,” Chester chimes in.
When I walk into the house, I ask Auntie Mo, “Did Miss Marilee call you?”
“She did,” my aunt responds. “She told me that she gave you a job.” She looks at me hard. “Is this something you want to do? You know you’re gonna have to be nice to the customers even if they work your nerves.”
“I’ll do what I have to do,” I say. “I like making the extra money. My allowance isn’t getting it, and neither is my online business.”
Auntie Mo opens the oven to check on her meat loaf. “Well, as long as it don’t interfere with school, then it’s fine with me.”
I knew she wouldn’t have a problem with me working. I’m so excited! I have a job.
“Guess what?” I say to Brady when he arrives home fifteen minutes later. “I’m working at the salon permanently.”
“That’s good. Will you get a discount when you get your hair done?”
“I get it done for free,” I respond. “I’m gonna keep a fresh look.”
He chuckles. “Congratulations, sis. I’m glad you’re gonna be able to keep that head of yours straight. Some days you can scare a person.”
“Funny,” I fire back. “Speaking of hair, you need to get something done to your locks. They’re looking kind of raggedy.”
“I see you had your daily dose of hateration.”
Laughing, I head to my room to work on my homework.
I’ll be attending a movie premiere with Mimi and her family in a couple of hours. Afterward, I’m spending the weekend with them. I enjoy staying in her huge mansion, but I have to be honest. I’m always happy when it’s time to head back to my house.
Mimi’s parents are nice, but I’m always feeling like they’re putting on an act. When they don’t think anybody’s paying attention, they completely ignore each other. I’d never mention it to Mimi because she’d have a meltdown. She likes to pretend that her world is perfect.
Divine has noticed it, too, but like me, she is hesitant to say anything to Mimi, especially since we really don’t know what’s going on. Divine says all the signs of a bad marriage are there. She should know. She survived her parents’ breakup and divorce.
“What are you wearing to the premiere?” Mimi inquires while we’re hanging out in her gigantic bedroom. My whole house could fit in this room.
“I bought a pair of jeans and this shirt.” I hold up a black-and-yellow top I purchased last weekend from Old Navy.
“Why don’t you wear one of my shirts?” Mimi suggests. “I have the perfect top for those jeans.”
I don’t like wearing other people’s clothes, so I shake my head no. “I’m fine with what I brought, Mimi.” I don’t know why she’s always trying to dress me in her stuff whenever we go places.
My clothes may not have somebody else’s name on them, but they’re still fierce. Humph! I wouldn’t be caught dead in some of that mess she wears. Auntie Mo can throw down with a sewing machine. What she doesn’t make, I buy from Old Navy. It’s one of my favorite places to shop.
Mimi picks up my shirt and eyes it with disgust. “You’re sure you don’t want to wear one of mine? At leas—”
I interrupt her. “Why are you always trying to get me in your clothes, Mimi? I’ve told you before—I don’t like wearing other people’s stuff. I have my own and I like the way I look in them. If you don’t think my clothes are nice enough for the premiere…well, I can just go home.”
She instantly backs down. “Rhyann, don’t trip. I was only trying to be nice. I don’t shop at Old Navy, but I know that they have nice things. I love some of your outfits.”
“You can be such a snob sometimes.”
She gives me this wounded look. “I can’t help it if I like the better things in life. It’s all I know.”
“That’s what happens when you’re born with a Louis Vuitton attached to your hand.”
I can tell from Mimi’s tight-mouthed expression that she’s a little hot with me right now. She’s walking around the room looking all flustered and sending glares my way. I don’t care, though. She knows I’m telling the truth.
The limo arrives forty-five minutes later and we all pile in.
I can’t help but notice that while Mimi and I are running our mouths, her parents haven’t said one word to each other. In fact, I think her father is pretending to be asleep.
Upon our arrival, we’re pointed toward the red carpet. Mimi’s dad is an actor in a very successful television series, so everybody knows who he is. We walk the red carpet as quickly as we can. A couple of photographers lined up along the path snap photos of us as we head to the theater entrance.
Mimi nudges my arm when we step off the red carpet. “Rhyann, look who’s here.”
I
follow Mimi’s gaze, my eyes landing on a familiar face.
“Omigosh! What is he doing here?” I wonder aloud. Traven and I haven’t talked since the prom. He’s called me a couple of times—I just haven’t called him back.
“He’s stalking you now,” Mimi says with a chuckle.
I smile at the thought. “Traven’s probably here trying to add another notch to his bedpost. I’m pretty sure he didn’t know that I would be here unless Brady mentioned it to him.”
“I never figured him for a dog,” Mimi whispers.
He glances in our direction and we wave.
“Traven, what are you doing here?” I ask when he walks over. I glance around, checking to see if he came with a female.
“I’m just hanging out with my cousin,” he says, pointing to a young man standing a few feet away. “He’s been in a couple of music videos and he was an extra in this movie.”
“Cool…,” I respond.
He glances over at Mimi and smiles. “How you doing?”
“Fine,” she responds. “Is Leon your cousin?”
Traven nods. “His dad and my mom are brother and sister.”
I laugh. “A simple yes would have been enough, Traven.”
Mimi elbows me in the side. “Leave him alone. I know your cousin. He was in a movie with my father a couple of months ago. I met him on the set. He’s a good actor.”
I look over my shoulder. Mimi’s parents are still on the red carpet, talking to the media. Divine loves being on the red carpet, but it’s not something Mimi and I care about. I definitely don’t want my picture plastered everywhere.
Traven introduces his cousin to me.
“It’s nice to meet you, Leon,” I say. I recognize him from a couple of music videos. My attention is drawn to a woman making her way down the red carpet.
“Omigosh! Isn’t that Dee’s stepmom?” I whisper to Mimi. “Ava?” I wonder if she’s supposed to be out like this. Divine told me she had doctor’s orders to take it easy.
Mimi follows my gaze. “That’s her for sure. Wow! Ava looks like she’s about to pop that baby out any moment now.”
It's a Curl Thing Page 7