by Ashley Cruse
“That nigga there got some decisions to make when he gets out,” Michael said. “If he doesn’t straighten his ass out, he’s going back.”
“Don’t you get a place with him until he gets a job,” Granny Gina told me. “If things are going to work, he has to show you he can be a man, honey.”
She was right about that.
Michael leaned over and stretched his long legs out. He took a big sip from his forty. “I know one thing is for sure. You are too damn good for him, Dollie. Don’t put up with his shit, either. You watch and see. His ass gonna fuck up and go right back if his ass don’t get some damn act right.”
Chapter 5
I was able to see Corey two more times before they put him on the transfers. He was sent to Middleton. From there, he went to Mineral Wells, and then he finally ended up at this trustee camp outside of San Antonio. I had been calling the parole office every week. I finally learned he was getting out on August 18. That was less than a week away.
I felt restless as I waited for the eighteenth to roll around. I wanted Corey to have some new clothes, so I got him two pairs of Jordans, plenty of outfits to match, and a couple of hats. I also got him a toothbrush, boxers, deodorant, and plenty of things like that. I could not wait for him to come home.
When his release date finally arrived, I was all over the place. I had to keep myself preoccupied at work. His mom was calling me all the time. His sister and his brother were too. His friend Drew also came by my job twice to see if Corey had hit me up.
Drew happened to be one of the only friends that Corey had that I approved of. He was polite and nice. He banged too, but he normally kept to himself. Drew was also one of the sexiest guys I’d ever laid eyes on. He was Dominican and black. He had the creamiest tan skin, and it made you want to reach out and lick all over it. He dated a girl named Koa Grace. I disliked the girl, but Drew was cut for her, and out of respect for him, I never dissed her to his face. But I did advise him to seek better females.
When Drew stopped by the second time, he had on a black shirt with Tupac on it, a pair of nicely creased and heavily starched jeans, and a pair of black Nike Air Maxs. He looked rather nice to me. Nobody was in the office but me that day. Around two o’clock, Tammy had left for the day, and Jerry had court dates in San Angelo and Comanche. I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to hear from him, let alone see him at all that day. When Drew came in, I was busy typing up Jerry’s case summaries and his opening acts for three of his court appearances tomorrow.
“Hey, Dollie.” Drew smiled at me.
He made my heart melt a little. I had to remind myself that Drew was Corey’s friend.
“What’s up, Drew!” I greeted cheerfully.
He took a minute to check me out. I was sure of that. I had my hair pulled back into a ponytail, showing off the length of it. I had chose to wear a pin-striped dress suit with a black vest today. I had my black doll heels on. I knew I looked fine that day. To my satisfaction, Drew thought so too. When he noticed I was watching him check me out, he smiled at me, embarrassed. I laughed at him.
“It’s all good, Drew. You ready for Corey to get out?” I said.
“You still haven’t heard from him?” he asked, leaning against my desk.
I shook my head no.
“You guys will stop by my house, right?”
I nodded my head yes. I flashed him a smile.
He said his good-byes, and I smiled back before he left.
As I had predicted, Jerry called to let me know he wouldn’t be back in the office today. I got the materials he needed for his court date in Brownwood together so I could leave them in the mailbox at his house. I locked up the office and left to pick up my son.
After I picked him up, I dropped off Jerry’s papers at his house. Then I took Drake to get a Coke float from an ice cream parlor around the corner from my boss’s house. I let him drink his float there, and then we headed home.
When I pulled into the driveway, I noticed that both my aunt’s and uncle’s cars were there. Right when I walked in the door, I heard my aunt talking on the phone.
“So, when did you get out?” I heard her say.
I knew it was Corey. I hurried and snatched the phone from her. “Bye, Corey!” she shouted.
I headed down the hall, toward my bedroom. I heard Drake chatting my aunt’s head off, so I knew he was all right.
“Where are you?” I demanded as I closed my bedroom door.
I heard him laugh. “Two and a half hours away. We’ve been stuck in Fredericksburg on a furlough for almost four hours now.” He paused. “I can’t wait to be with my wife,” he added softly.
His voice brought comfort to my heart. I was head over heels in love with Corey, and he knew it.
“Can’t wait, either, babe,” I whispered to him.
He told me to be at the bus stop at 9:45 p.m. I assured him I’d be there.
“Wear something sexy,” he said.
He knew I would too.
Chapter 6
Tenosha
“Ten, I’m back!” Bobbie called out.
I heard the kids running through the hall to greet him. I barely lifted my head up. I was right in the middle of my nap, and this damn fool was calling out for me. I heard Hanson and Marie mumbling something. I figured they were telling him about their day at school, like they did every single day, after he got off of work. I was dead tired and wanted more than anything to fall back asleep. No matter how hard I tried to block their tiny voices out, though, I just couldn’t.
I slowly rose from the bed. I decided that I might as well cook before Bobbie started his bitchin’. He always complained if his dinner wasn’t ready by a certain time. I didn’t know what the fuck his ass thought this was, but this wasn’t the fuckin’ fifties. I damn sure wasn’t his mama, either. I had given him four children, and I still didn’t have a ring. So housewife duties, a homemade lunch to take to work, dinner on the table, hot bathwater run for him, or whatever bullshit he was expecting, he was not about to get from me. If he was looking for a woman to be a slave, like his mama was to his daddy, he had better not look to me. Ain’t no slave over here.
Shit pissed me off just thinking about it. Bobbie and I had been together for years. The beautifully mixed children we had made together were perfect to us. I had to admit, the first three kids had come during our high school years. The last one had arrived six days after graduation.
I actually had it made. I didn’t have to go punch a clock at somebody’s business at all. He did that, and he took care of everything else too. Once it came to us, though, there was nothing. There was no passionate kissing, no “Baby, this” or “Baby that,” no excitement to see one another. It was like the butterflies were nonexistent. I guess the best way to put it was that the attraction wasn’t there anymore. We never did anything together, hardly talked, and I guessed we just stuck it out for the kids’ sake.
I slid my bright yellow pedicured toes into my black house shoes. I got up and made the bed. I quickly combed my curly hair and arranged it in a bun, wrapping it tightly with a blue bandanna. I walked out of the bedroom and then stood in the hallway for a minute. I inhaled deeply, preparing myself for a verbal battle, before I started to stroll down the hall to the kitchen.
Bobbie was lounging in the recliner in the living room with our three-year-old son, Tyrese, on his lap. Our son was preoccupied with playing a game on his father’s tablet. My one-year-old, Karen, was holding on to Bobbie’s leg and singing the words “ole McDonald” over and over again. Hanson, my oldest son, was showing Bobbie his schoolwork. Marie, my second oldest, was sprawled on the arm of his chair. They all seemed content but crowded. I was relieved. He could deal with their bad asses. While Bobbie treated me far from good, he was an excellent father and was loving when it came to our kids
Bobbie was white but had naturally tanned skin, and his eyes were brown. He could easily pass for a light-skinned Mexican with the way he kept his hair shaved. Not skinhead shaved, b
ut lower, like that of a cholo. He had grown up in a black neighborhood, around nothing but niggas. He might look like a white boy, but his swag and the way he talked were anything but that.
Bobbie’s parents weren’t too fond of me. They had always said I tried to trap his ass. His mom couldn’t stand me. She used to say some rude, disrespectful shit, like he could do better than me. That if he was going to date outside his race, he should date a full black girl with good home training. That shit insulted the hell out of me too. I despised that ho with a passion, just like she couldn’t stand a glimpse of me.
His father had warmed up to me over the years. He had actually taken the time to get to know me as a person. He knew more about my family and our background than Bobbie’s mom did. I used to wonder how a nice man like him would link up with a bigoted prude like her ass. If anybody was too good for anybody, it was him being too good for her. She was able to keep him only because she was OCD and kept their house spick and span. She stayed in the kitchen, baking and cooking, trying to feed everybody’s love. Fuck that. That shit wasn’t me.
Both of his parents were hardworking people. They had just known that Bobbie was going to go to college on a baseball scholarship. When Bobbie and I first met, they said I was ruining his life. Little did they realize that even though he’d got the scholarship, he didn’t have the grades. And if they did know his grades sucked, they didn’t dare mention anything about it. Especially his mom. She wouldn’t dare get caught looking like a fool, since her Bobbie was a baseball star.
I remembered when she found out what he was really doing at school. See, Bobbie would go to first period for five minutes, and then he would ditch the rest of the day to hit the block. His head got real fucking big once he stacked his first ten Gs. That was what first attracted me to him. He was a go-getter, a hustler. He spent all his money on me, constantly showering me with gifts. I really loved him with my all.
He never wanted me to be with him when he hustled. Although his parents were batting against us, back in those days, we were inseparable, until he went to make his money. By the time I was carrying our third child, he had given the game up and had traded that lifestyle in for a work suit.
He had claimed he didn’t want his kids to grow up having to visit their pops in a prison somewhere. Or even having to go visit his grave site. That was around the time one of his closest friends was carjacked, robbed, and found dead in Dallas. All this guy was supposed to do was meet their connect, but he got set up instead. Crazy part about that situation, Bobbie was supposed to meet with the connect at the same time. He ended up having to stay behind with me due to Hanson cutting his thumb while playing outside at a neighbor’s house. Our son came running full speed toward his daddy, screaming and crying as blood leaked from his hand.
It was so bad, we couldn’t tell which finger it was. The ambulance was called. Right then Bobbie made that decision to ride with his son, and so his homeboy left alone for Dallas. Don’t get me wrong. Even though Bobby didn’t hustle anymore, he still banged hard with One Tre. He just left the dope game completely alone after the loss of his friend.
Bobbie and I had been together for eight years. He was twenty-one and had an all right job working for Pepsi. It was all right because I didn’t have to work. I was nineteen years old, with four kids, and I had my own house. I was a mixed bitch. I was half black and Dominican. So Bobbie’s skin tone mixed well with mine, and our kids were a beautiful mix, with a variety of light-skinned complexions. The girls looked like they could pass for white youngsters, but the firm ringlets that covered their tiny heads gave away the fact that they had niggas in their bloodline.
Hanson looked more Mexican than anything. If anything, that little nigga right there favored my younger brother, Drew, who kept his own hair faded, but when it grew out, his natural curls made him look even more like a Mexican. Hanson was the darkest one out of the four kids.
My youngest son’s complexion was closer to mine, but like his older brother, he looked like a Mexican. My mom and them would get pissed if you referred to the boys as Mexicans, since their nationality was Dominican. We weren’t Mexicans at all, but even I could see where people were coming from with that.
Of all the children, my youngest son, Tyrese, was the one that you could tell just by looking at him that his ass had to be mixed with black. His hair was more on the kinky side. His face resembled those on my dad’s side. He shared the big nose, the big lips, and the big head. He was the odd child, but when all of them were together, you could tell they were mine and Bobbie’s.
My kids were also bilingual and knew Spanish, thanks to my mom and grandma. They shocked the whole neighborhood when they started speaking that Spanish. They were smart too and could tell if you knew what they were saying. Just like the Chinese women at the nail shop who talked shit about your toes, they were quick to talk that shit in Spanish. People would laugh, not realizing they were making fun of them.
After seeing that the kids were occupied with their father, I hurried into the kitchen and cleaned up. I washed the dishes and wiped the counters off. By the time I got ready to put my meat loaf together, my daughter Marie came in to help.
“Your mom didn’t comb your hair today,” I heard Bobbie say to Karen.
I rolled my eyes. He had better not start that bullshit today, ’cause I’d make his white ass cry like the bitch who pushed his ass out of her at birth. Bobbie wanted beef, and I was going to deliver him the whole cow if he started tryin’ to fuck with me.
“Your ass won’t work, so the least you can do is make my kids look presentable,” I heard him yell out.
“Shut the fuck up!” I yelled back.
“For real, though, Ten. The fuck you do all damn day?”
“Maintained this house and watched your fuckin’ kids. The fuck you think I did?”
I could feel my body start to shake with anger. I stood holding on to the sink, waiting for him to say something else smart. I was ready to go upside his head again. The most he had ever done to me in retaliation was pin me down to the floor until I calmed down. Normally, by the time he got me on the floor, I’d given him two or three knots across his fuckin’ forehead. I was ready to bust his nose today, though.
When I realized he was not going to have shit else to say, I decided to get back to cooking. I swore before God that if I didn’t have these children, I wouldn’t be in this kitchen, trying to cook up some shit.
Marie and I finished preparing the sides. I went to sit at the kitchen table while the meat loaf cooked. I had Marie go get my cell phone off the charger. I watched from the corner of my eye as Bobbie complained out loud about the way the living room looked. Karen and Tyrese had brought out every toy they could find and had them scattered all over the living-room floor. I didn’t care. He just better be glad he was getting dinner. He was off work now, so he could pick that shit up his damn self. I knew he was trying to bait me into another conversation, but fuck that dude. I just ignored his offenses.
Marie ran back with my cell phone. I gave her a kiss, followed by a monster-sized hug. She dissolved into a fit of giggles. I patted her on the butt and instructed her to go play while dinner was cooking. She obliged.
I called my grandma’s house. I wanted to know if a letter had come from a friend of mine. My homeboy Corey was locked up and had been writing me for the past six months. I’d always been attracted to Corey but had never got at him. I had always had my man, and he continuously kept a different girl or two.
He wrote me from time to time, and I always sent a letter back. I hadn’t gotten mail from him in a couple of weeks, but that was customary. Corey went with this stuck-up bitch named Dollie Benson. It was all good, though. He had a girl, and I had a man, even though I didn’t give a fuck about mine at that moment. I feel like if an opportunity with Corey ever developed again, I would jump on it. Regardless of who got mad or offended.
“Grandma?” I asked when she finally answered.
“Yes, mija?” she replie
d.
“Did I get any mail?”
She told me no. I conversed with her for a good fifteen minutes, then hung up the phone.
Right then, my sister, Justine, accompanied by her husband, Bruce, waltzed into the house. Instantaneously, Bobbie’s tone of voice changed, and he challenged Bruce to a game on the Xbox. I rolled my eyes again. It irritated me how quickly he turned fake in front of company.
“What’s up, Ten?” Justine asked, taking a seat at the kitchen table.
I shrugged my shoulders. I was a little bummed that Corey hadn’t written. I just wanted to stew in my mood until it was time to take the meat loaf out and make the kids’ plates.
Justine was my younger sister. She was a bit darker than me, but we both stood at about the same height. I was larger than Justine, due to my babies and all that drink I would sip on. She had a smaller frame. Yeah, I was a big girl compared to her, but don’t let the heaviness fool ya. I had a pretty face, and I knew I was still fine, big or not.
Justine and my brother Drew favored each other more. They both took after the black side, whereas I took after the Dominican side. They both shared the same skin. Justine had thick, wavy hair, which she kept pulled back in a ponytail. She had a heavier Spanish accent than me, and when my sister got mad, she was livid. She wasn’t scared of anybody, but she avoided drama as much as she could. Once you pushed her buttons, however, she went senseless.
Drew was the same exact way. He was more on the quiet side and didn’t really associate with too many individuals outside One Tre Mafia. He was tall and kept his head faded. Sometimes, he would let his hair grow out. His curls were too thick and uncontrollable, so he rarely would do that. My brother stayed clean cut and always rocked the latest Air Force 1s and Jordans. He was always on the block, hustling.
He had a girlfriend named Koa, and I couldn’t stand her ho ass. This woman was a thin, pretty, dark-skinned chick who was always put together. She always rocked the latest Coach bags, designer clothes, and heels. You never caught her without heels on, ever. She was always finding boots and sneakers that had heels. She displayed the latest hairdos. Koa always kept her toes and fingernails done as well.