Kismet

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Kismet Page 16

by Raynesha Pittman


  Erika Soto,

  Keisha Soto’s baby sister.

  Before I could ask Stephanie, she answered. “The planner is gone, and, no, I didn’t put the ladies were prostitutes in the book. We laughed about it in her face. We only said Javier’s name. I’m sorry, Savannah, I fucked up.”

  Fucked up was putting it nicely. She had ruined everything with that Kill Bill notepad she kept. I could kick her ass for this. My family lost a house that they had been there for years, my daddy was now homeless, and everybody wanted a piece of me. No one cared about Stephanie’s involvement. I was the one who fucked up. They wanted me.

  “Hey, Will, you got a minute? I need your help.” I told Will I needed him to get all six of their whereabouts.

  Will suggested my father and I stay with him, which was in protective custody until we left for Washington. I had no choice but to agree.

  I had finally calmed myself down when I was hit with the next piece of news. I got a call from the Santa Monica Fire Department telling me that my time-share had just gone up in smoke. I should thank them because it became hard to sell. I would get insurance money instead, which was fine with me, and with all the women in jail, it left the men as suspects.

  As I was looking for the detective’s number I had spoken to this morning to tell her what happened to my unit, Will called back. “Okay, boo, Keisha, Melinda, and Christina are still locked up at the police subdivision, and they all are going to be on probation, so don’t worry about them moving anytime soon. Ant is back at school and has been there for about a month. That was confirmed by his basketball coach. And Tyrone and Javier are riding around handling some business for their babies’ mamas. I played like I didn’t know shit and was told to be careful, that you are a sick ho on the loose, and they are going to ‘teach you a lesson.’”

  When I told Will my house was on fire, he told me to report it to the detective so I could have Tyrone and Javier picked up for questioning. I told him I would, thanked him for all his help, and told him I’d see him later.

  * * *

  Uncle Johnny waited three days after the fire, and then went by my house in Malibu. Surprisingly, it hadn’t been touched, and that was because no one knew about it. That house was in Uncle Johnny’s name, and right now, I was glad it was because I wanted to bathe at my own place and change my clothes where I had a larger variety. Everything in my bathroom, kitchen, and linen closet had been packed in forty-five minutes. The TVs and furniture I gave to my uncle Steve as a shut-the-fuck-up gift.

  He had called talking shit yesterday about the house getting burned down and mentioned something about Memphis.

  “This shit is all of your fault. When are you moving back to Georgia? I need you to leave the state before you fuck my life up next. First, my mama’s house, and now Memphis. Where’s my lucky rabbit’s foot at? You need to get baptized soon!”

  I had yet to find out what Memphis had done to make him flee the way he did. Whatever it was, my daddy knew he couldn’t come back to LA.

  I had given the detectives longer than seventy-two hours. I stayed there a whole week. My daddy still had to wait for his insurance check, and he wouldn’t be flying out for another week, which was perfect because it gave me time to find him a new house instead of an apartment and deck it out.

  Stephanie left with me. She found her a place not too far from mine in Seattle. Even with Tyrone, Javier, Keisha, Melinda, and Christina in jail, she was still scared. Stephanie was worried about Erika and Ant. Ant was smart. He wouldn’t do anything stupid while his crew was in jail because he didn’t want to join them.

  My concern was that bitch, Erika. I didn’t know her like I knew the others. To be honest, after this week, I realized I didn’t know them, either.

  * * *

  It was raining when we made it to Seattle and it was a lot colder than California. Stephanie rented a car and dropped me off at my new home in northern Seattle, which I was told was where the business class lived.

  I was purchasing a three-bedroom, two-bathroom house with an underground pool and Jacuzzi for $725,000. Since I was purchasing and not renting, Mr. Nguyen gave me a check for $100,000 toward the purchase of my home, which I was thankful for because, technically, he didn’t have to. The new Seattle office is to service other clients since the California location was dedicated to Strax Industries. My move doesn’t benefit Mr. Nguyen in any form, but he felt the need to help since he had gotten me to leave Georgia.

  The house was huge and empty. After I found my daddy a place, I would go car and furniture shopping. For now, I would enjoy my alone time and get some sleep. I woke up to Stephanie ringing my doorbell like she had lost her mind.

  “I’m not staying in that house by myself yet. It’s raining too hard.” She pushed past me and sat on my living-room floor.

  “After we get this weed in our system, you got to show me around. This place is huge.”

  How in the hell did Stephanie get some weed already? We had only been here six hours.

  “Don’t underestimate me, Savannah; I see how you’re looking at me.” She spread her legs, dug in her pants, and came out with a condom full of weed.

  “You know I had to find a way to get some California weed to Washington.” She reached into her purse, pulled out two blunts, and said, “Here’s to starting over.”

  We smoked both blunts back-to-back, and I was out. I hadn’t had any sleep in days, so I needed the rest. I dreamed about Dre and I meeting up at a hotel somewhere in New York because I could see a little of Time’s Square from my hotel’s view.

  We started off arguing over Sade and her best interests regarding her parenting. Dre had won the dispute, as usual, and we were now lip-locked, rolling around the bed, and competing on who could take the other’s clothes off first. It was abusive sex. There was a lot of biting, scratching, slapping, and spanking going on from both of us. He bit my shoulder and flipped me on top of him in a saddle position. I slapped his face and covered it with my breasts. Slowly, he gripped my sides, squeezing as hard as he could until I closed my eyes from the pain. When I opened my eyes, there was Keisha standing in front of me with a gun pointed at my face. Before I could beg for my life, she pulled the trigger.

  I woke up covered in sweat. I didn’t mean to startle Stephanie, but I needed some fresh air. I asked if we could drive around looking for a place for my dad, and then go get some dinner. It was five o’clock in the afternoon and nothing seemed to close until 8:00 or 9:00 p.m. here.

  I found my daddy a place in between Stephanie’s and mine. It was a nice-sized two-bedroom, two-bathroom house with a nice-sized backyard and garage. I signed a two-year lease on the house and paid off the first year up front. There wasn’t a background check or credit check done at all. The owner had me complete an application, and when I asked if I could pay a year in advance, he was handing me the keys. Money talks, bullshit walks, and it was evident in this situation.

  We made it to Ashley Furniture by 7:30 p.m., and I had my daddy’s entire place furnished. I even bought Memphis a king-sized bed, just in case he moved here.

  There was a Lowes across from the furniture store. I ordered my daddy a new stainless steel stove and refrigerator and would have it and his cabinets packed with food before he got here. All I needed to get him was two TVs, one for the living room, the other for the bedroom, and an entertainment system to play his oldies on. This was the least I could do after what I let happen to his mother’s house. I didn’t want any of my insurance money I got from my unit. I would spend it all on him. There was a twenty-four-hour Walmart we passed on the way here where I got the TVs and a few other homely items on our way home.

  I told Stephanie to pull into a gas station so I could get a map. The car she rented didn’t come with GPS and was in need of a new pair of windshield wipers badly. It sounded as if they were scratching the window. As I was bending over the car to put the new wipers on, this sexy-ass, green-eyed white man took them from me and put them on. When he was done, I
introduced myself.

  “Thank you for your help. But I could have done it. My name is Savannah, and yours?”

  He handed me his business card. It read: Wayne Jacob Junior of Jacob’s Cadillac.

  “Is it your car lot or your father’s, Junior?”

  He was amused. I could see it in his smile. “My father has been dead for the last five years. It’s mine now.”

  I had never thought about owning a Cadillac before, but now I knew it was going to be the next vehicle I purchased.

  “I hope you come by so we can talk about windshield wipers and things of that nature.” He had the nerve to be flirting too.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow around noon. Maybe we can have that discussion over lunch.”

  Wayne agreed and planned to meet at 12:30 p.m. Before I let him go, I needed one more thing from him. “How do I get to the Jefferson’s family restaurant in Tacoma from here?”

  Chapter 15

  Trial by Jury

  It was nine at night, and the restaurant was packed with people. When we walked in, the smell was warming, and I was ready to eat. We sat opposite a live jazz band that didn’t have a singer. The sound was relaxing, yet it was a rhythm you could dance to, and there was a floor full of people dancing. One thing I noticed was there were no alcoholic beverages on the menu. When they said family, they meant it.

  A girl no more than the age of sixteen asked what we would like to drink. We both ordered strawberry lemonades.

  “Savannah, this place is nice. How did you hear about it?”

  I lied, of course, saying I went to school with someone whose family owned it. Glancing at the menu, I saw that there was a section on it that read, Don’t worry about pleasing the scale, please your soul. From the heading, I knew that was where my meal was coming from. I ordered turkey necks with rice and brown gravy, collard greens, sweet potatoes, and corn bread with honey butter. Stephanie ordered smothered pork chops with mashed potatoes, cabbage, and a side of dressing, with a roll.

  The food was awesome. It was on Georgia’s level when it came to judging soul food. The Jeffersons had to be Southerners.

  Peach cobbler and vanilla ice cream is what I ordered for dessert, and Stephanie ordered pecan pie. The best part of the night was when our bill was brought to us. The owner and the head chef delivered our bill with their beautiful daughter, Sade.

  “How was everything?” Mrs. Jefferson asked.

  I was in such a trance from staring at Sade, I almost didn’t answer. “It was perfect. I lived in the South for eight years and have never seen, I mean, tasted, anything like it.” I kept my eye on Sade the entire time. Mrs. Jefferson was explaining that she was born in Mississippi and fell in love with a soldier who wanted to take over his family business one day, and that’s how she ended up here.

  “Savannah, quit staring at that baby like that. I hope you’re not getting baby blues. We both know you don’t need any children.”

  I didn’t pay Stephanie any mind. I reached out for Sade, and she came right to me, just like she did at the hospital. No fussing or nothing.

  “You are pretty,” Sade said while holding my face. I didn’t know how to respond.

  “Well, thank you very much. You are pretty too, and I love your hair.”

  Mrs. Jefferson reached for Sade, and she went to her. “I’m sorry about my goddaughter. She is such a friendly girl. She talks to every customer who comes in and out of here. Excuse me.”

  Mrs. Jefferson headed back to the kitchen, but Mr. Jefferson didn’t move an inch. He grabbed the bill and ripped it up. “Y’all have a nice night.”

  Stephanie stood up. “Oh no, sir, after that meal, we have to pay. It was better than my mama’s—don’t tell her I said it, though.”

  He pushed her hand away from her purse and looked me dead in the eyes. “I know old family when I see it. This was better than any picture that could be sent. Y’all have a good night.”

  He turned his head and headed in his wife’s direction, more than likely to tell her who I was. I jumped up quickly, grabbed Stephanie, and left a $1,000 tip.

  “What are you smiling about, Savannah? You’ve had that smile on your face since we left the restaurant.”

  I ignored her all the way home, and when we got back to my house, I made her roll up, and then I went to sleep, nightmare free.

  * * *

  I was enjoying my new Cadillac DTS. It only cost me $20,000 in cash and about three days of boring-ass sex from Wayne.

  My street should have been named Bayside because I was saved by the bell, commonly known as Bella Jacob, Wayne Jacob Junior’s wife. The Jacobs lived four houses down from mine with their son, Winston. Bella was a part of the welcoming committee in my subdivision, and she and her family knocked on my door to welcome me to the neighborhood. Wayne looked sick when I answered the door, but I saved his ass.

  “Hello there, Mr. Jacobs, I love my new Cadillac. Bella, your husband here gave me such a good deal, I couldn’t say no.”

  Since our little family meeting, he hadn’t picked up the phone to call me. How lucky could I get?

  My daddy was supposed to be here over four months ago, but couldn’t make the flight. He made it all the way to check-in before he realized he was afraid to fly. In almost fifty-five years, this man had never been on a plane.

  I had built up the courage to fly down to get him, and then drive seventeen hours back to Seattle so he could finally stay at his own place. The drive wasn’t going to be the worst part of it. Memphis had been staying with my uncle too, so I would be in his presence all those hours as well. I wanted to bring Stephanie with me badly, but I needed her to get groceries for my daddy’s place so he and Memphis would feel at home when they made it. I even got Memphis a PlayStation 3 with all the games he used to have at home. I bet they play well on the fifty-two-inch TV I put in his room.

  When I made it to the airport, I called my daddy to let him know I’d be there in about four hours and to meet me at the office with their stuff. He was trying to tell me something about the PO Box, but Will was buzzing in so I had to go.

  “Don’t leave me waiting on you at airport, bestie. You know I got people who want to hurt me out there.” Will was going to pick me up in my rental car, and then I’d drop him back off at the sheriff’s station.

  “Bitch, please, you got angels around. You want the news now or later? And if your impatient ass says now, what news you want first? Good, bad, or weird?”

  Talking to Will was really like talking to a woman. I don’t see how he controlled cutting it off during work hours. He was a natural bitch.

  “Start with the weird, then give me the bad, and end with some good. How about that?”

  He took a deep breath, and then started running his mouth. “Erika, the bitch’s sister, turned herself in and took all the credit for what Keisha had done. She said it was her, Christina, and Melinda, who had burnt down your daddy’s house, and that Keisha had no part of it. The bitch had priors as a minor; remember when she stabbed her daddy, and they put her in Juvenile Hall for four years? Or was you already gone then? Anyway, the bitch is looking at five to seven years for arson, plus her priors. We won’t see her for about ten years, and when she does get released, she will be under the care of a psychiatrist.

  “Now for the bad news: Keisha may be walking the streets in less than a year. Since her sister took all the credit, she is only in jail for a probation violation for being in contact with other people on probation. That sucks, don’t it? The state took TJ, and he will be calling somebody else Mama and Daddy until she gets her shit straight. The good side of this is Keisha was removed from general population and put on the med list, and so was her baby daddy. Can you say HIV-positive? It gets worse for Tyrone, though. Him and Javier played baseball, baby, and they both struck out. Two newcomers to the California three strikes law—bye-bye, bitches. Ant wanted me to tell you that he was sorry about your daddy’s house. The big idiot thinks everybody flipped out over you fucking everybo
dy. I guess Erika kept her word and kept it to herself. There you go, beautiful. You are good to walk the streets of LA again, and I will get you a release date on Keisha tomorrow. Now, get your sexy ass on the plane, bitch, and I’ll see you in two hours and thirty minutes. Kisses.”

  I had really gotten my revenge . . . and won. Yes, it cost my family their house, but look at the outcome for everybody else. Two of them were lifers, two had HIV, and in the next six months, others may have the same diagnosis. Two had fifteen years, one had ten, and as for Ant . . . I had never wanted him hurt to begin with.

  I couldn’t wait to knock out this seventeen-hour drive home just to go home and celebrate. Nothing in this world could take this feeling away from me.

  I asked the stewardess for a cup of water so I could take my daily BC Powder for the pains I still had in my upper hip/lower stomach, and I smiled all the way to LAX.

  Will was at the airport holding a welcome home sign for me at the baggage claim. I was glad I had a real friend like him. There was Sandy, but if I didn’t pick up the phone, she didn’t call, and Stephanie was my girl because we still worked together, but there was a lot about me she didn’t know. I had only been real friends with Will for five months, although I’ve known him my entire life, and he knew about Sade. I couldn’t wait to tell him what happened at the restaurant.

  “Why are you trying to make me cry? I want a picture of my god-baby. Promise me you’re going to get her back once you settle your hot ass down, or at least let her meet you. You shouldn’t do that baby like your mama did you. That ain’t right, and you know that shit.”

 

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