The Candy Shop

by Kiki Swinson

  “Where is she?”

  “It’s ten o’clock in the morning, so she can’t be anywhere else but school.”

  “What time are you going to pick her up?”

  “I’m not. My mother is, since Kimora asked her last night could she come and get her so they can go out for ice cream.”

  “Well, what time is she bringing her home?”

  “You don’t need to be concerned about that. What you need to be concerned about is calling Carolina Finance Company and making some arrangements with them about when you intend to make your two-month-overdue car payments.”

  Stuttering between every word, but trying to make my explanation sound plausible, I said, “Wait, there must be some kind of mistake. I don’t owe them two car payments because that company automatically takes it out of the account.”

  “I know that, and so do they. But, the representative told me that when they’ve tried to make the electronic drafts from your account, it’s always coming back non-sufficient funds. So, I personally called your account to check your balance found out that you’re in the negative of ninety-eight dollars. Now, how can you explain that when I left you over one thousand dollars in that same account a little over a month and a half ago?”

  “I refuse to explain anything to you, after the way you’re carrying on.”

  “Well, I guess there’s nothing else for us to talk about,” he told me and proceeded to close the front door.

  Before he was able to close it fully, I stuck my feet in the door frame to block him from further closing it. When he saw this, it really pissed him off to the point that he said, “If you don’t move you foot right now, I am going to break the shit off!”

  “Well, let me in the damn house!” I yelled with extreme rage.

  By this time, I was at my wit’s end about how he was treating me. I mean, I knew he was going to be upset, but I didn’t have any idea that he would put me out of my own house and file for a legal separation. Was he fucking losing his damn mind or something, because I owned this house just like he did, so I was not gonna just stand there and let him treat me like I was some fly-by-night piece of ass he just fucked last night. It just wasn’t going to happen.

  “Faith, if I have to tell you to leave once more, then you leave me no choice but to call the police and have you escorted off the premises.”

  “I don’t give a fuck! Call ’em!” I dared him. “Because when they find out I live here too, then we’ll see who gets the last laugh,” I continued as the volume of my voice got louder.

  “You’re absolutely right! We will see who gets the last laugh after I tell them that I got an emergency protective order against you.”

  “You got what?” I screamed even louder.

  “You heard me. Now get off of the premises before I get you arrested!”

  Hearing Eric utter the words “protective order” blew me clean out of the water. I couldn’t do a thing but just stand there and look stupid. But, then I thought to myself, On what grounds was he able to get this order against me? So, I challenged the validity of his statement. “You know what?” I began to say, “I am having a hard time believing somebody gave you a fucking protective order against me.”

  “Well, believe it,” he struck back as he pulled the document out of his back pocket and flashed it right before my eyes. “Now, get the fuck away from here and carry your ass back to your drug addict girlfriend’s house, where you belong,” he continued.

  Becoming numb from the sight of the document and the words that were coming from Eric’s mouth, wouldn’t allow me to move one inch. I mean, this whole altercation with him had me thrown for a loop. And once again, he found a way to belittle the hell out of me. So, what was I to do? Just continue to stand there and have my ass arrested for trespassing on the premises of my own house? Nah, I didn’t think so. So, I immediately convinced myself to suck it up because this whole ordeal would only be temporary. But, I did make one last attempt to try to salvage what life our marriage had left. “Can I ask you a question?” I said.

  “Yeah, go ahead,” he insisted.

  “Is there any way we can work this whole thing out?”

  Before he answered me, he hesitated for a brief moment, but then he said, “Faith, I’ve tried so many times to get you to open your eyes and realize what you were doing to me and your daughter. But, you’re so wrapped up in that world of yours that you can’t even see how your lifestyle is affecting us. I mean, look at you. Your hair looks like shit. And you look like you haven’t had a wink of sleep in days, which is a clear sign that you’re on drugs. And I can’t have you around us like that. So, until you admit that you have a drug problem and check yourself into a drug treatment center, then we have nothing else to discuss.”

  “Well, what’s going to happen with us in the meantime?”

  “Nothing,” he replied in a nonchalant manner.

  “Are you going to let me see Kimora?” I continued as my eyes began to become glassy.

  “Not until you get yourself together.”

  “So, what about my things?”

  “What things?”

  “My clothes,” I began to say. “I need my clothes.”

  “Oh yeah, you can get your clothes,” he assured me.

  “But, when?” I pressed the issue.

  “You can get them now. Just let me open up the garage door.”

  “But, why do I have to go through the garage to get my things?”

  “Because that’s where I put everything after I packed them up,” he replied.

  But instead of me reacting in an unpleasant manner because of the response he gave me concerning the whereabouts of my things, I left well enough alone and backed out of the doorway. He closed the front door immediately after and by the time I walked over to the garage door he had it ajar, with him standing there, waiting to assist me.

  “Is this everything?” I asked after I scanned every taped-up box in sight.

  “Yep. It’s everything you had in your closet,” he replied as he reached down to pick up the first box.

  “What about my jewelry box?”

  “I packed that up, too,” he told me and as he struggled to carry the heavy box out of the garage.

  Now, after making between seven or eight trips, Eric and I had every single box stored away in my car. But, when it was time for me to make my departure, I couldn’t get him to tell me that he still loved me, to save his damn life.

  The only words I could get him to utter from his mouth were, “I hope you get a chance to straighten out your life before it’s too late.” And then he walked back into the garage and closed the door behind himself. So, to hear him say that made me feel even lower than I felt when I first found out he changed the locks on me. But, what could I do? Nothing but swallow my pride and carry my ass right back over Teresa’s apartment, since I no longer had a leg to stand on here.

  Teresa was trying to straighten up her nasty-ass apartment when I returned. So, when I came through the door with all my shit in tow, she had a ton of questions for my ass. In a sense, she was upset at how Eric was handling the situation with putting me out of a house he and I shared, the legal separation, and me not being able to see Kimora until I got some help with my addiction. And of course, I shared her sentiments. But, at the same time, she was happy that I was able to come back to her place and be her roommate, since she had always lived alone. So, I was very grateful that she was allowing me to be there until I could straighten shit out at home. Whenever that would be, of course.

  Karma is a Bitch

  Just when I thought everything was going to be okay, I got slapped with a dose of reality. There I was, living with my best friend for nearly four months. Bills were piling up around there like crazy and just that morning, she got an eviction notice posted on her front door, stating that she was behind on her rent for three months. So, I questioned her about it, since I knew I’d given her my part of the rent because I neglected to pay my own car payments to do it. But, when it
was time for her to plug me in about what was going on, she tried to downplay everything I threw at her.

  “Girl, don’t even let that eviction notice stress you out,” she replied in a nonchalant manner, as she tossed and turned in her bed for a more comfortable position.

  But, her response wasn’t good enough for me, so I stood there next to her bed, with the notice in my hand, and said, “What the hell you mean, don’t let it stress me out! Do you have any idea that your landlord wants your ass out of here in less than thirty days?”

  “Oh, he ain’t gon’ put me out,” she said, her voice barely audible from it being muffled by the pillow. “He’s just trying to put some fire under my ass, so I’ll pay him.”

  “Teresa, that man doesn’t want your money,” I shouted, as I waved the notice over her head. “He wants to take back possession of his fucking apartment.”

  “Well, look, if it’ll make you feel any better, I’ll make a phone call to him as soon as I get up, and straighten this whole thing out.”

  “And what could you possibly tell him?” I said in an agitated manner. “Because, I know he’s not trying to talk to you, for real. Especially, since you haven’t lived up to your obligation. But, the fucked-up part about all of this is that I gave you my car payment money to pay the rent, and you didn’t even do it. So, now we’re going to be two dumb-looking homeless motherfuckers.”

  “Oh, stop acting like a drama queen!” she commented immediately after she turned her body around to face me. “Because the man ain’t gon’ put us out. Now, just chill out, ’cause you’re fucking up my high right now with all this yelling.”

  “Your what? That’s your damn problem. And you’re too fucking stupid to see it.”

  “Please don’t start that preaching shit to me, like your life is so much better.”

  “You know what, Teresa? My life may not be better than yours, but at least I am not laying around here, fucking different niggas for just a couple of pills of dope, while you’re carrying another nigga’s baby and ain’t got a stitch of food or toilet paper in the damn house.”

  “Oh, so now you got a problem with me fucking niggas for dope I got you high with? ’Cause, if my memory serves me right, you ain’t had a dime to put in on the re-ups in a good little while. So, if it wasn’t for me tricking, then tell me, how was you gon’ get your shit off?”

  “Wait a minute, you must’ve forgotten that I supplied your ass with tons of money in the fucking beginning. Remember, when I maxed out my whole bank account and all my credit cards to get you high? So, don’t act like you’re the only one who has made sacrifices around here. Because if anybody has done that, then it’s me.”

  “I didn’t say you didn’t. But, I just don’t need you standing over top of me, pointing fingers, like you’re better than me.”

  “I never acted like I was,” I began to explain. “I’m just going through the motions right now because I miss my daughter, who I ain’t seen or talked to in months. And then on top of that, I’m broke and I’m running from the fucking repo man.”

  “Girl, don’t beat yourself up. Shit is gon’ get better. Just watch and see,” Teresa commented as her tone changed.

  “Yeah, I hope so. ’Cause the way my life is spiraling downhill, I could sure use a break.”

  “Don’t worry, it’ll happen. Now, calm your ass down and stop getting uptight about everything.”

  “Somebody’s gotta do it,” I told her and slowly found myself backing out of her bedroom.

  Now don’t get me wrong; I was still kind of leery about how she was downplaying the whole situation, but what could I do? It was her place, so I had no other choice but to wait and see what happened next.

  A half a day nearly went by before Teresa got out of bed to join me in the living room. I was watching the local news when she walked in, looking like a skinny crack head. I mean, I didn’t notice it before but homegirl was in bad shape. Now, she was already a small-figured woman, so to see her and notice that she had dropped at least twenty pounds was not pleasing to the eye. But, the worst part about it was that she had lost most of that weight in her face. So, she definitely didn’t look like Toni Braxton anymore with that stringy-looking ponytail and sunken in cheeks.

  “Why you didn’t tell me the water was turned off?” she asked me, holding a toothbrush in her hand.

  “I did tell you.”

  “When?”

  “About an hour after I came in your bedroom, talking about the eviction notice.”

  “So, when exactly did they turn it off?”

  “I don’t know. But, when I tried to wash the dishes around nine-something this morning, that’s when I realized it was turned off.”

  “Motherfuckers!” she yelled as she threw her hands into the air. “They ain’t got nothing else better to do than to fuck with my shit!”

  “You should’ve just paid ’em,” I said in a nonchalant way, not once turning my head from the television.

  “Paid them with what?”

  “With some of that rent money I gave you.”.

  “Oh Lord, there you go on that trip again!” she said, and stormed back out of the living room.

  I heard her march down the hallway and slam the door to her bedroom, but she came strutting her dumb ass right back into the living room about ten minutes later. So, I’m guessing she found some kind of outlet in her room to calm her ass down because when she reappeared before me, she acted as if nothing had happened.

  “Wanna take a ride?” she asked in a giddy way.

  “Where are you trying to go?” I wanted to know. Because in all actuality, I really didn’t feel like being in her company right now.

  “I’m gonna take a ride out to Grandy Park,” she continued, as her smile got even cheesier.

  “And do what?”

  “Whatcha think I’m gon’ do? I’m gon’ get us some good shit to get high off of.”

  “With what? ’Cause you don’t have any money.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. But, I got these,” she said as she held out her left hand.

  I shook my head and said, “Don’t tell me you’re getting ready to trick somebody else up with those fake-ass pills of baking soda you just put together.”

  She smiled, slid all three dummies into her top shorts pocket, and said, “It ain’t just baking soda. I got some Benita mixed in with it too, just in case one of them slick niggas wanna go behind me and test it.”

  “Girl, you play some dangerous-ass games!”

  “Wait, don’t start that judging shit again.”

  “I’m not. But, you really scare me with the shit you take yourself through to cop that next pill of dope.”

  “You know what’s that called?”

  “What?”

  “It’s called survival. ’Cause, if you noticed, if I don’t go out and take a few chances, then I’m gon’ sit around here, ill. And going through that phase of getting diarrhea and stomach cramps ain’t no fucking joke. So, that means I gotta constantly stay on the grind.”

  “Well Teresa, I can’t knock what you do. But, you do need to be careful.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I will,” she assured me and then she said, “So, are you gonna roll with me or not?”

  “You go ahead. But, make sure you bring a couple gallons of water when you come back.”

  “All right, I can do that. But, whatcha gon’ do while I’m gone?”

  “Well, first of all, I’m gonna go in that kitchen and see what I can scrape up together and eat. And then I’m gonna bring my ass right back in here and finish watching the news.”

  “All right. Well, I’m gon’ see if I can pick up a few grocery items too, like some of them ninety-nine–cent Banquet meals.”

  “Oh yeah, they’re good. But, make sure you get the meat loaf and the Salisbury steak kind, with the mashed potatoes and corn. And if you got enough for a soda, get a strawberry one.”

  “Well, I’ll see because you know I gotta put a few dollars in the gas tank.”
>
  “Oh yeah, your shit is on ‘E’,” I commented with laughter.

  “Your shit is too!”

  “You’re right. And that’s why it’s parked.”

  “Well, as soon as I make this move, my baby is gon’ be all right.”

  “Well, go ’head and take care of your business. But, don’t be gone long.”

  “I won’t,” she said, and then she left.

  Reality Check

  Can you believe it? I’d been sitting in the fucking house since the day before with no food and no running water, waiting for Teresa to bring her ass back from Grandy Park, and the bitch hadn’t walked through the door yet.

  Knowing her luck, she was probably laid out somewhere in a back alley, from somebody whipping her ass behind selling them those dummies she concocted in her bedroom yesterday. But then again, her ass could’ve gotten pulled over and arrested for driving under a suspended license. So for her, the ball could roll any way since her moves were always unpredictable, which was why I had to make some moves on my own. Because if I continued to sit there and wait for her to come home, then I’d probably end up starving to death. And I couldn’t have that, so the only thing I could do that’d work in my favor would be to pay my in-laws a visit and pray all the way there that I didn’t run into Eric. Because there was no telling how he’d react, especially when he saw that I looked worse off than I did the day I found out he put my things into the garage and changed the locks. Knowing him, he would have a field day, pointing fingers and insulting me. Pegging my downfall would be very gratifying for him. So, my best bet would be to get in and get out without hassles. And that’s exactly what I planned to do.

  When I told Teresa my car was on “E”, I truly meant it. So, I counted my blessings right then for the miracle I received that enabled me to drive all the way to Sand Bridge from Teresa’s apartment, without running out of gas. It was approximately four-thirty in the evening and it was rush hour, so the fact that it only took me fifteen minutes to get there definitely weighed in my favor as well. And when I pulled up to their house and noticed that my husband’s car wasn’t parked out front, I instantly felt a huge burden being lifted off my shoulders. But not only that, the acceptance I felt when I was greeted at the door was indescribable. I mean, I couldn’t even put it into words the joy I felt when my mother-in-law hugged me. She even let out a few tears.