The Meltdown

by L. Divine

  The neighbors within earshot also get a good look at the scene. I guess we know which family won for most embarrassing block party moment, even if it is taking place indoors.

  “Hell, no. This little bitch bit me and she’s going to pay.”

  My uncle Bryan intervenes and Kurtis backs down, knowing his younger brother has a black belt in Tae Kwon Do. I may not be able to kick his ass, but Bryan can in one quick move.

  “This is your niece, Kurtis. Don’t call her out of her name again.” My friends look stunned, but this kind of thing happens around here on the regular. “Are you okay, Jayd?”

  “I’m fine,” I say, picking myself up and straightening my clothes. “He tried to break into Mama’s room,” I say, pointing toward the scene of the crime. “I told him to get out, but he wouldn’t listen.” My adrenaline’s pumping, and my head doesn’t feel so good. That fall really hurt.

  “She’s crazy, man,” Kurtis says. “She doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about.”

  “I may be crazy, but I’m no liar.”

  Bryan points at the front door, and Kurtis leaves. I think it’s time for me to go, too. My medicine is at home, and something tells me I need to take an extra dose when I get back to my mom’s house. I don’t need to stay for the fireworks. That was enough excitement for me.

  12

  All Hail the Queen

  I remember I remember when I lost my mind /

  There was something so pleasant about that place.

  —GNARLS BARKLEY

  After last week’s block party, it’s been pretty quiet around Mama’s house. I guess going buck wild on my uncle Kur-tis was the right thing to do. Mama told him to be out weeks ago, and because she’s not here, he thinks he can take advantage of the situation. Daddy might not want to check his ass, but I don’t care. I’ve had enough of people taking my kindness for weakness and that goes for Mama’s, too.

  With the cotillion tomorrow evening, I have a lot of work to do between now and then. Not only do I have to get my nails done and pick up other last-minute necessities, but I also have to fill a few clients’ orders and drop them off at Netta’s shop before heading over to Nigel’s house for my final fitting. Mrs. Esop wants to make sure the shoes, dress, and jewelry are all in accord before the big night. I feel like I’m getting married, the way she’s fussing around like the mother of the bride. The amount of money Mrs. Esop’s already spent is really ridiculous. I’m just glad I didn’t have to come out of pocket for a damned thing, because I don’t have it like that even if I am making a killing off braiding hair this summer.

  I’ve been averaging three heads a day, and depending on the style, I usually end up with at least a hundred dollars in my pocket. That might be considered small cheddar to Nigel and Rah, who can make that in one sale if the herb is superb, but I’m proud of my hard-earned money. Mama would be pleased with how I’m handling my earnings. I’ve saved almost every dime for the last month, and my bank account is stacking high. I do miss working at Netta’s, though. I can’t wait until Mama and Netta both return from their vacation and we can get back to normal. Without them my days don’t have the same flavor or balance. I need the elder wisdom only they can give. The shop doesn’t even feel the same.

  “Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” Rita says, clamping the flat iron loudly before running it through the client’s hair. The smell of freshly pressed hair and honey shampoo fills the warm air in the quaint shop.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Rita,” I say as she buzzes me in. I set the large bag full of creams, sprays, and other beauty products Mama had me fill for the shop down on the table next to the front door. Our clients come here to pick up their regular regimens, and I’m responsible for maintaining the clients’ boxes and other supplies for the shop. I don’t get to help with the clients’ heads anymore until Mama and Netta return. I’m under strict supervision by my godmother and grandmother all of the time.

  “Is that little Jayd?” Miss Celia asks from the washbowl area. I greet the three customers sitting under the driers, recognizing two of them. The other lady is new to me. “If so, please tell her to wash these towels and stack us some new ones in here.” Work, work, work. It’s a wonder I have a social life at all, although with my boyfriend having big fun in London, I have more time on my hands than usual.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I say, heading to the back with my loot. It’s already after four. By the time I finish my work here, it’ll be the early evening. I should’ve eaten something before getting here, but I didn’t think about it until now. Hopefully my friends will have food at the session when I get there. We’re having it at Nigel’s house tonight, which is convenient for me. I have to try on my dress per Mrs. Esop’s insistence. It’s all good as long as we can kick it after.

  I want to talk to Rita and Celia so bad about their beef with Mama, but we’ve kept a safe distance for the past few weeks. I don’t know if Mama gave them the same directions she gave me. Other than shop business, we don’t chat. I know Netta will give me the lowdown when she returns. Mama can’t keep my godmother from talking to me. Until then, I’ll do my work and enjoy the extra time to chill with my crew.

  Most of my crew’s already at Nigel’s pad, ready to get this party started. Mickey and Nellie arrived a few moments before me, and Rah had to run an errand but will be here shortly. Tomorrow’s the ball, and Nigel and I will be tied up all evening at some fancy hotel in Sherman Oaks. I’ve never been to the valley before, and from what I’ve heard, I’m not missing much.

  “What’s Nickey doing here? I thought the shorties were staying at home tonight?” Nigel asks, holding the front door open for us.

  “I can’t get anybody to watch this baby at night with my mama and daddy both working double shifts,” Mickey says, throwing down her diaper bag and purse onto the couch. She looks worn out and so does Nickey.

  “This baby?” I repeat, putting my purse down next to hers. Mickey’s language toward her daughter has been growing more distant lately. I replaced all of the pills with the identical but healthy tablets Dr. Whitmore prescribed last week. I hope she didn’t stop taking them after her tense conversation with Misty last weekend. Mickey needs to take them to reverse the damage that’s already been done.

  “How are we supposed to smoke with a baby in the room?” Nigel asks, concerned about his freedom once his parents leave for the night. They always have some gathering to attend. I’ve never known two more socially busy people than the Esops. After spending time with Mrs. Esop on a social level, I can see why Nigel needs a break: His mom’s one intense sistah.

  “When has a baby ever stopped people from kicking it how they want?” Mickey says, handing me the baby.

  I’m glad to hold her. She’s the plumpest two-month-old I’ve ever seen. I hate to say it, but I know it’s the formula her mama’s giving her. I wish Mickey would’ve breast-fed for a little longer. Mama said some milk is better than nothing. Thank God Nickey’s a strong little girl. She has to be to have a mother like Mickey.

  “I’m just tired of changing her and carrying her and feeding her,” Mickey says, straightening her tube top and smoothing down her short jean skirt.

  “Mickey, why don’t you ask Nickey’s aunts to watch her? I’m sure they would love to get to know their niece,” I say, reminding her that Tre’s family is grieving the loss of their brother. Nickey’s presence might be just what they need to heal from the tragic shooting. No mater how unwelcoming Brandy was at the block party, once she realizes Mickey’s not asking for a dime and that Nickey’s indeed Tre’s daughter, hopefully she’ll open up a bit. Besides, I think once Brandy’s own baby is born, her attitude toward Nickey will change.

  “And why don’t you mind your own business?”

  Mickey’s got one more time to snap at me before my forgiveness runs out.

  “Damn, Mickey. Jayd’s just trying to help,” Nigel says, having my back as always, officially pissing Mickey off.

  “Y’all are
enjoying rehearsing for the ball, huh?” Mickey says, taking a stance too familiar to Sandy’s for my taste. “Pretending you’re a couple and shit.”

  Nigel and I both choose to ignore our girl’s jealous comment for the sake of the baby in the room. Otherwise, I’d tear into her like a pit bull after a Chihuahua.

  “I can’t speak for Jayd, but I can think of a million places I’d rather be than the hot-ass valley on a Saturday night.”

  I’m with Nigel. This ball’s taken up too much of my time as it is.

  “Jayd, why don’t you just ask Rah to be your escort? He’s closer to being your man than Nigel is,” Nellie asks, coming into the den from the kitchen with a glass of sparkling water.

  She likes coming over here and pretending to be the lady of the house, unlike at Chance’s crib. She can barely move from room to room without looking over her shoulder to see if Mrs. Carmichael’s watching her. Chance’s mom will never like Nellie for her son.

  “I wish I could,” I say, eyeing the white gown hanging on the back of the den door, afraid to touch it too much. The last thing I want to do is mess up this dress. “Mrs. Esop’s got full rein over my wardrobe and my date. She’s already made it very clear that Rah’s a no-no. She wants me on her son’s arm—no other dudes allowed.” Mrs. Esop has even suggested hairstyles, like I need help in that department. I’m already going crazy enough as it is. The last thing I need is someone up in my head. Mama would kill me if I let anyone other than her, Netta, or my mom touch my crown.

  “Oh, Jayd,” Mrs. Esop says, walking in on our private conversation, but we can’t say too much. This is her house even if we’re beginning a session.

  “I know, right? Isn’t she going to make a lovely bride?” Nellie asks, obviously joking, but Mickey takes it to heart. With Nigel’s tux hanging on the back of the closet door next to my dress, it does look like somebody’s getting married.

  “It’s a stupid ball, Nellie. Not a wedding.” Mickey shoots our girl a look while Mrs. Esop ignores the jealous outburst.

  I already know it’s her secret wish for Nigel and I to be together, but that’ll never happen. I’ve known Nigel since junior high, and we’ve always liked each other in a brother / sister kind of way—nothing more. Nellie’s on the outs with Chance. Maybe Mrs. Esop can turn her sights toward Nellie and Nigel hooking up if he and Mickey don’t make it. Nellie still has the hots for Nigel no matter what she says, and Mickey’s bitchiness just might turn Nigel off for good. I really don’t care either way. As long as they take care of Nickey, I’m good.

  “Why don’t you try it on, sweetie?” Mrs. Esop says, gesturing upstairs. “Let’s make sure the tailor didn’t miss anything.”

  Mickey glares at Mrs. Esop and then at me, feeling defeated. Nellie excitedly takes the gown down and cradles it across her arms in true bridesmaid fashion. She’s more excited about the ball than I am. I have to admit, I am starting to get little butterflies in my stomach. I can’t believe it’s finally here. All of the training and rehearsals to come out to a society I’m not even a part of seemed ridiculous at first, but now I’m ready to show off all of my hard work.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I say, taking the dress into my arms and heading to the bathroom in the guest bedroom upstairs for more privacy.

  “Here, Jayd. Take the shoes with you.” Mrs. Esop directs Nellie to hand her the silver box on the den floor and hands it to me. “Let us know if you need any help.”

  “I think I can handle it.” I walk into the immaculate bathroom and lock the door. Knowing Mrs. Esop, she’ll want to make sure I’m wearing the right underwear, which she also provided. I didn’t wear a strapless bra today, but what I’m working with will have to do.

  “Everything all right in there?” Mrs. Esop asks a few minutes later, knocking on the door.

  I’ve barely had time to slip out of my short jumpsuit. “Yes, I’m fine.” I work my way into the form-fitting gown, admiring the finished product. It’s stunning. I open the door, allowing everyone to take in the sight. They couldn’t wait for me to come downstairs.

  “Oh my, Jayd. You look gorgeous,” Mrs. Esop says, near tears.

  I walk across the hall into Nigel’s room to look at my reflection, seeing what they all see: a true lady coming out of my teenaged self. I wish Mr. Adewale could see me now. I also wish Jeremy were here to celebrate this night with me. But I’ll see him soon enough. He’ll be home by the end of the month in time to celebrate his birthday.

  “Damn, girl, you clean up nice,” Nigel says, checking me out. That’s the same look he had on his face the first time he saw me in my mom’s cream suit at the first debutante tea. “That dress looks good on you.”

  “Doesn’t my son have excellent taste most of the time?” Mrs. Esop says, hesitating slightly, watching Mickey’s scowl deepen as she walks out of the room.

  The last thing I want to do is make my girl feel any worse than she already does. It must be hard to watch Nigel’s mom and I together, not to mention Nigel complimenting me on a dress his mother bought when she doesn’t even respect Mickey enough to acknowledge her when she’s in the room.

  “Mom, be nice,” Nigel says, feeling Mickey’s heat. “She just had a baby, for God’s sake.”

  I smile at my boy defending our girl against his mother. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. Mickey and Nigel’s love has been passionate during their short, tumultuous relationship. Even now Mickey’s trying to get back in tip-top shape because she thinks it’ll make her man happy. But I think Nigel would like Mickey no matter how much she weighed. He just loves him some her and vice versa.

  “Yes, and must I remind you that it’s not your baby?” Mrs. Esop says, fidgeting with her couture investment. “Why is the baby even here?” Mrs. Esop looks disgusted by her son’s choice in a companion and makes it known every chance she gets.

  “Where else is she supposed to go? I told you, Mom. I’m the only daddy Nickey’s got, and I intend on doing right by her and her mother.”

  Mrs. Esop eyes her son in the mirror’s reflection with a look of complete bewilderment. Seeing that this argument is going nowhere productive, she smiles and changes the subject. “So, we need to make sure we have the walk down. Let me see you escort your date in her stunning gown, Nigel.” Mrs. Esop ushers me to take Nigel’s arm as we’ve practiced at least a hundred times. I never thought I’d be ballroom dancing with anyone, especially not Nigel.

  “Oh, you two look lovely. Simply stunning,” Mrs. Esop says, clasping her hands over her mouth in the most dramatic fashion ever.

  “Here you go,” Mickey says in the hallway, trying to soothe a crying Nickey. She steps into the doorway, taking in the sight of her man and me arm in arm. Mickey walks back into the room with a fresh bottle for Nickey’s dinner, hoping the warm fake milk will put her to sleep for the night. The two-month-old is restless in her mother’s arms, obviously overtired. I gave her a book on healthy sleep habits for children, but I doubt Mickey read it. If it’s not a fashion, hair, or music magazine, she’s not too interested in reading.

  Nickey hungrily gulps down the concoction while Mickey eyes my outfit, taking in the bright, white sight.

  “It is a pretty dress,” Mickey says, walking over to get a better look at the exquisite detail. Mrs. Esop didn’t spare any expense.

  “Isn’t it magnificent?” Nellie says, rubbing salt in Mickey’s wounded ego. Nellie gets too enveloped in fashion for her own good. Can’t she tell Mickey’s hurting?

  “Here, baby,” Mickey says, attempting to feed Nickey the rest of her dinner, but the baby’s still restless in her mother’s arms. Mickey shakes the bottle vigorously, causing the nipple to fly off, spilling the thick baby formula all over my formerly immaculate gown. Nickey screams loudly and so does my benefactor.

  “Damn it!” Mrs. Esop yells, coming to my aid. I’ve never heard her cuss before. If Mickey wasn’t healing from Misty’s influence, I’d whip her ass with that bottle. She looks sorry and completely shocked by the mishap. Ma
ybe it was just an accident, but I’m sure she got some pleasure out of ruining my dress.

  Nellie runs inside the bathroom to grab towels while Mrs. Esop guides me toward the door.

  “Damn,” Nigel exclaims, wiping the small amount of foul-smelling liquid from his Lakers jersey. “This is going to be hard to get out.”

  Mickey’s frozen in place, holding an empty bottle and a screaming baby.

  “You did that on purpose,” Mrs. Esop snarls at Mickey. “Jayd, take the dress off. We have to get it to the cleaners, now. And you, out,” she says to a now-sobbing Mickey. I feel bad for my girl.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Esop. It was an accident, I swear,” Mickey says, looking confused. She doesn’t know whether to try and clean up the mess she’s made, soothe her baby, or leave as instructed.

  “Of course it was, dear. Just like that baby you’re holding,” Mrs. Esop says, causing more tears to fall from Mickey’s eyes. Thank goodness for waterproof mascara. Otherwise, Mickey could give Erica Kane a run for her money.

  “Okay, Mom, that was completely uncalled for,” Nigel says, taking Nickey from her mother’s arms, attempting to calm both his girls.

  “The hell it is, Nigel. This girl is a walking disaster, and I’ll be so glad when you finally wake up and snap out of it,” Mrs. Esop says, frantically dialing her cell and directing me back into the guest bathroom to change out of my wet dress. “Call the maid in here to clean this mess up and prepare Jayd’s dress for the cleaners. I’m calling them now to see if they can come pick up this ‘accident’ before it’s too late.”

  Completely unremorseful, Mrs. Esop storms out of the room as I exit the bathroom with my devastated dress in tow. I hope it can be cleaned by tomorrow. It would be a shame to let such a beautiful gown go to waste.

  “Nigel, is your mother up there?” Mr. Esop yells from downstairs. “If she is, tell her we have to go.”

  “I’m coming, dear,” she yells, recomposing herself.