Thicker Than Water

by Takerra, Allen

  “It’s not too soon for anything,” Neli said, comforting her and smiling. Sasha looked at her, wondering why she was so gleeful, and then continued.

  “Well, I guess I’ll just say it.”

  Neli bit her lip, ready for the moment to say to her girl, “Congratulations and when can we meet him,” but that moment never came. Then Sasha said it.

  “Me and Chauncey are back together.”

  Neli lay wrapped up in her and Ray’s quality-count Ralph Lauren sheets crying over another man. A man who, no matter what she did, she just couldn’t shake—the dilemma that so many women go through. The only difference was that this man was in love with one of her best friends.

  It was 4 P.M. on a Tuesday afternoon and Neli had been in bed all day. She didn’t even go to work. She just lay there trying not to think of the fact that Chauncey was probably touching Sasha at that very moment. She had reached a level of insanity and depression, and the thoughts in her head could not be trusted, not even by herself. I have to do something about this. I can’t sit back and let him do this to me. Neli knew that she had to be very careful and smart about her revenge plan because if Chauncey ever got wind of anything, he would kill her. Whatever she did, she would have to go through someone else. She thought of the saying “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer” as she picked up the phone and dialed Sasha.

  “Hello,” Sasha answered in an upbeat tone that let Neli know the bitch was probably smiling.

  “What’s up, Sash? You sound like you in a good mood,” Neli said, in a sarcastic way but still friendly.

  “Girl, I am, why did Chauncey just send me five dozen roses to my job? Now what in the world am I supposed to do with all these flowers?” Sasha asked rhetorically.

  She knew that Neli was semi-jealous of her and she also knew Neli had a little thing for Chauncey, not that he would ever touch her, but it gave her a little twinge of pleasure to relay the news.

  Neli closed her eyes tight and tried to hold back the tears she felt building up. She just couldn’t help the fact that she loved Chauncey so much; it literally hurt her heart to know that they were back together.

  “Flowers, huh? Roses, that’s nice, Sash. Just be careful, you know.”

  “Careful, girl, please. I got this. Anyway, what’s up with you?” Sasha did not want to let on to any concerns she had about her and Chauncey, although she was still quite unsure about why he had left her.

  “I’m not doing anything. Your parents’ cookout is still tomorrow, right?” Neli asked, debating on whether to make up an excuse to not go, or to just go and look sexy as hell and make Chauncey regret not choosing her. Maybe we can sneak into her parents’ bedroom for a quickie. She toyed with the thought in her head as a mischievous grin came across her face.

  “Yeah, it’s tomorrow, you still coming, right?” Sasha asked, unaware of Neli’s cruel intentions.

  Neli thought for a minute of which direction to go. She could give up, talk her way out of the cookout, and give herself some time to move on and let Chauncey and Sasha be happy. Or she could get really grimy with it, turn into a nasty, backstabbing bitch, and do some crazy-ass shit that would probably end up degrading herself in the end, just to get a man. There was no question about it; she knew what she had to do.

  “Neli, you heard me, girl. You are coming, right?” Sasha repeated.

  “Yeah, Sash, I’ll be there.”

  The girls said their good-byes, and hung up the phone, both thinking of the same man, and both willing to do anything to keep him.

  “What do you mean ‘negative balance’?”

  Tatum stood in the financial aid office at the tiny window speaking to the woman who obviously had made some mistake with Tatum’s tuition bill. Tatum had been standing in line over an hour, just to pay her bill, and she even put the new Louis Vuitton bag that she wanted on hold, just so she wouldn’t have any problems once she started her fall semester. The older white woman spoke, a little annoyed.

  “I mean that your bill was already paid for and then some. Your account has a negative balance due, which results in a credit, which basically means that your tuition is covered for at least another two semesters.”

  Tatum stood dumbfounded. She wasn’t sure what to think; all she knew was that she didn’t want this to be some type of mistake and then she’d have to come back up here and stand in this line all over again, oh hell no.

  “Well if I didn’t pay my tuition, miss, who did? Can you at least tell me how this happened, ’cause I really think it’s some type of mistake!” Tatum said, raising her voice, getting agitated as the girl behind her let out a loud sigh.

  Tatum turned around and looked at her like Bitch, please. By this time another woman had come out, a black woman, middle-aged and attractive, clearly more pleasant.

  “Ms. Tatum Mosley?”

  “Yes,” Tatum answered.

  “A young man came by yesterday, very well mannered. Very attractive. Tall man, with dreads.”

  Tatum stood, mouth open and slightly smiling. Damn, this lady is talking about Ree. And let me find out this lady feeling my man.

  “He came and put a large sum of money into your account. He was very pleasant, and very generous. You, I must say, are very lucky.”

  Tatum looked dumbfounded as she thanked the two women for their time and walked away in total awe. She was catching some serious feelings for Ree and it seemed like he was doing the same. Either that, or she had some really good stuff.

  Kim looked down at her ringing cell phone and decided to ignore it for the third time in a row. It was Lizette again, trying to get at her.

  I hope this girl does not think I like her. That was strictly the Ecstasy.

  She had a quick recollection of the night at the strip club and abruptly shook her head hoping to rid her mind of the images. She rolled up another spliff and lit it up as she sat by her windowsill and looked out at the summer-night traffic. Newark was alive, the block was sprawling with neighborhood hustlers and local hood rats, and Kim needed an escape.

  Weed had become her crutch for dealing with the everyday demons that tormented her. When she was just ten years old, her father decided that since she had her period and had started developing physically, she was a woman. He also decided to stop treating her as a daughter and to start treating her as a sexual object that would relieve him of his daily frustrations and erotic pedophile fantasies. For six years this went on, forcing Kim to turn into the cold person she was today, not giving a shit about men.

  She never told her mother about her and her daddy’s escapades, and she often wondered if she knew, but eventually she became used to the fact that she was nothing more than a piece of ass to every man and that was all she had going for her. If you asked her today about her father, one would never know the things that he did to her. She would merely say, “My father taught me a lot of things.”

  She didn’t hate him, she also realized that she didn’t love him much, either, for when he died two years ago, she didn’t even go to the funeral. Her mother didn’t give her trouble about it, either, causing Kim to question again how much her mother really knew. Knock. Knock.

  “Come in,” Kim replied, not caring about the weed-smoked room. Whatever, it was just her brother.

  “What’s up?” he said, coming into her room and sitting next to her on the large windowsill.

  “Nothing much, what up wit you?” Kim asked, taking another pull.

  “Gimme some of that lil soldier, you ain’t even smoking right. Is you even inhaling?” Lex cracked to her.

  He and Kim had been tight forever. When she was little he went to prison for a while, but now that he was home, she felt better, and she felt safer. They laughed as Kim passed Lex the blunt.

  “But naw for real, I wanted to holla at you about your girl Neli.”

  “What about her?” Kim asked, wondering what it could be. Rarely was Neli’s name involved in any dirt; it was always Kim.

  “She getting a little
name out there, that’s what’s up about her. Niggas talking ’bout how she fucking with Tatum’s brother, Chris, and his boy at the same damn time. Niggas saying she a straight-up hoe.”

  Kim was shocked, but not too shocked; she knew that Neli had it in her. Kim just figured Neli better be getting some money from them. But who is Chris’s boy?

  “Well that ain’t got nothing to do with me, I really don’t care. Let her do her.”

  Lex took the last pull of the blunt and got up to leave.

  “I figured you wouldn’t, you ain’t no better,” he teased.

  “Shut up!” Kim screamed, throwing a pillow at him as he walked to the door.

  “Hey Lex,” she added before he walked out. “Chris’s boy who?”

  “I don’t know. Shit, I thought niggas was talking about Chaunc.”

  Kim snickered at her brother’s assumption as he left. She knew it couldn’t be Chauncey at all. Nah, she assured herself, it can’t be Chauncey. But she did know that she was determined to find out who.

  Chapter 8

  Infatuation

  “Sasha, put the potato salad in the refrigerator. People don’t want to come to a barbecue eating warm potato salad! And hand me the relish, you did not put enough relish in this tuna salad. Where is your mind, girl?” Terri, Sasha’s mother, was doing what she usually did best, getting on Sasha’s last nerve. The truth of the matter was that Sasha and her mother were always butting heads. She wasn’t sure if it was because they both were beautiful women competing daily for her father’s attention, or because Sasha had what her mother so desperately wanted, what she felt like she gave up when she had Sasha, who was her only child: her youth.

  “Ma, it’s ninety degrees outside, do you really expect the potato salad to stay cold?”

  Sasha’s question was answered by a look only her mother could give, which read Just do what I say, bitch. Sasha put the salad in the fridge.

  “So, Chauncey is coming? You guys back together?” Terri asked, dumping large spoonfuls of relish into the tuna salad. Sasha took a seat on the bar stool in her parents’ large kitchen. The house was beautiful and it still smelled like it did the day they bought it. The air conditioner was on full blast, causing Sasha’s nipples to protrude through her white wifebeater tank. She answered her mother blandly while dialing Tatum on her cell.

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  “That’s good, I like Chauncey. That young man has good husband potential. My God, Sasha, look at your breasts, look at your nipples. . . why do you wear that kind of top anyway?”

  Sasha ignored her mother’s comments, all of them. By “husband potential,” Sasha knew exactly what her mother meant. Money.

  “Tatum, where y’all at?”

  “We on the turnpike. It’s Exit Nine, right?”

  “Yeah girl, why y’all take that way? I told y’all to take Route One all the way through.”

  “It was too much traffic. I remember my way. I’ll be there in a half, all right.”

  “All right, girl,” Sasha said, hanging up.

  Her mother rolled her eyes.

  “I like Tatum, but that other girl, the one that don’t wear any clothes, you better keep her away from me. Little ghetto tramp,” Terri insulted, putting aluminum foil on the salad and pulling out her Christian Dior lipstick from her nearby Prada purse.

  Terri was a sight for sore eyes. Thirty-eight years old and could easily pass for twenty-five. Green eyes, brown hair that once hung down her back but now was cut in a stylish Halle Berry–looking do. Her body was tight due to the fact that three weeks after she had Sasha she was in the gym every day and hadn’t missed a day since. She was a bombshell. Today she wore a white linen Michael Kors dress that was casual but flattering. Sasha wore a short denim skirt and a white tank with Coach slides.

  “Ma, Kim is my girl. Why you gotta try to play her all the time?”

  “Sasha, save the ghetto talk and help me put this food outside. And if I was you I would be worried less about your mother playing your girls and more about your so-called girls. I told you before that not everybody is your friend. That girl Penelope is jealous of you flat out, and you got Little Miss It coming down to our home and everything. All around your man, you better watch her, her and Little Miss Ghetto.”

  Sasha sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. But Sasha didn’t realize that, for once, her mother was actually right.

  Chauncey pulled up to Sasha’s parents’ house around 2 P.M. He knew a lot of people wouldn’t be there yet but he promised Sasha he’d show up as soon as he could. He stepped out of his slick BMW in his plain but preppy attire. Sporting a polo shirt with plaid Ralph Lauren golfing shorts and fresh, crisp-white Air Forces, Chauncey looked more like a college kid than a dope boy. He had thirteen roses in hand—a dozen for Terri and one for his lady. Sasha smiled when she met him at the door.

  “I love it when you play dress-up for my parents,” she sang, giving him a long, passionate kiss. She looked good to him, and she smelled incredible.

  “Are those for me?” Sasha added, reaching for the bouquet. Terri started toward them from down the hall wearing a huge smile.

  “No, baby, these are for ya mother.”

  Sasha pouted like a child and folded her arms. He handed her the single rose and whispered in her ear before her mother reached them, “I got something for you later, you know that. Cut that shit out.”

  “How you doing, Mrs. Seals, long time no see,” Chauncey charmed, handing her the flowers, showing off his pearly whites and dimples. “You look more and more beautiful each time I see you.”

  “Oh why thank you, Chauncey, it’s just a new skin care line I’m trying, actually has me glowing. These roses are gorgeous, look at that—long stem, bloomed ideally and not a single imperfect petal. You sure know how to pick ’em.”

  Sasha wasn’t sure if that comment was directed to Chauncey or her.

  “Well come on to the back, Chauncey. Bill is just waiting to see you. I think he has been thinking of stock and investment topics just for you guys to indulge in.”

  Chauncey laughed and followed her and Sasha to the backyard, passing the snow-white living room with cathedral ceilings, all the while watching Sasha’s hips and thighs sway with every step. Damn, I’m a lucky muthafucka!

  Kim sat in the passenger side of Tatum’s truck searching for her lighter.

  “Yo, Neli, my lighter back there?”

  Neli handed her a green lighter with hundred dollar bills decorating it.

  “Not that one, the one with the naked white bitch. That one right there outta fluid.”

  Tatum tuned them back in from a short daydream about Ree.

  “Unh-unh, Kim, you are not about to smoke that shit right now. We on the turnpike, girl are you crazy?” Tatum said, looking at Kim with her mouth open.

  “Yo, Tay, let me have this. You know I ain’t gonna be able to get away and smoke with Terri’s old nosy ass. Let me get my head right.”

  Tatum laughed, signaling the okay for Kim to spark up her blunt. Kim wasted no time lighting it up and puffed away, careful not to allow any ashes to fall on her heavily exposed thighs. She wore white velour booty shorts that did not even cover half her ass, with a halter top that left her D-cup breasts open for the world. Kim had been going through it with Blair and she didn’t know what to do.

  Just the other day, everything had blown up when she called his house after she waited for two hours for him to come pick her up from The Cherry Bar. His wife picked up and Kim hung up as usual, but in the midst of her anger she must’ve forgotten to block her number. Two seconds later her cell phone rang and Kim felt like, Fuck it, and picked up. Well, his wife did all the talking, basically saying that she knew he was cheating, and that Kim was a slut and a whore for fucking a married man and how dare she call her home. Kim laughed at her and told her that no way in hell could she ever expect him to be faithful to her, he was a BLACK man and he liked black women! And his wife cried and screamed and Kim told
her to tell Blair to call her when she speaks to him, and tell him that she’s waiting and horny, and then Kim hung up. And Kim hadn’t heard from Blair since, and she missed him. She felt crazy inside.

  On the left side of the truck there was another feeling going on. Tatum was on cloud nine. Everything with Ree was going so good that Tatum was scared that something major was going to come and fuck it all up. Or if not that, somebody was going to pimp-slap her and wake her up from the dream she was in.

  Last night he had taken her to one of the best hotels in the city. But instead of having a usual suite, they were escorted to the roof where a candlelit dinner was set. Tatum walked to the ledge and looked out at the city, and everything seemed so small and unimportant. It was as if they were, no, she was, the only big thing. That’s how Ree made her feel, like she was the only big thing in his life. The setup was breathtaking, a round table with a white tablecloth and two long pillar candles surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of rose petals.

  After they ate they made love, right on the roof, and Tatum actually cried. She couldn’t believe it, but she cried. It was a feeling she had never felt before. After he dropped her off, he had to hurry home to pack for his flight to Jamaica, but he talked to her the whole time, all the way until the pilot made the announcement that his cell phone must be turned off. Tatum was convinced, this was it.

  She felt her phone vibrating in her lap. She had put it there just in case Ree called, and here he was calling.

  “Hey, you,” Tatum sang.

  She could hear a lot of noise in the background; he was definitely in a public place.

  “Yo, why don’t you tell me why I can’t stop thinking about you?” he asked, oh so smoothly.

  Oh my God, he sounds so good!

  “I have no idea but I like the way that sounds,” she responded, and he laughed.

  “I like the way you sound, Ms. Mosley, you at your friend’s cookout?”

  “No, I’m on my way.”