Crossroads

by Skyy

  “You lieeeee! I can smell a woman in the air. You don’t wear Bond Number 9. You probably don’t know what Bond Number 9 is.”

  Denise sat on the edge of the bed. “How do you know—never mind.” Denise knew Cooley knew her fragrances. Cooley sat her bag against the wall. Denise noticed the curious look on Cooley’s face. “What, man?”

  Cooley grinned, her dimples deep. “She’s still here, isn’t she?”

  “Oh my God! You really are in the wrong business. You need to be a private detective.”

  The bathroom door slowly opened. Mariah walked out with an embarrassed smile. Her hair was wet, curls stringing down her back.

  Cooley did a double take. She looked back at Denise then turned back to Mariah. Cooley extended her hand.

  “So she made you hide in the bathroom? That’s sad, Dee.”

  “No, I actually needed to get dressed. Hi, I’m Mariah. And I’m guessing you are Cooley.” Mariah extended her hand.

  Cooley smirked; she had never heard her name so proper before.

  “Good job on guessing my perfume.”

  “Well, I always know a good scent, and it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Mariah. I’m sure we will see more of each other.”

  “I’m sure we will.” Mariah smiled. “Well, Denise, I need to get out of here. You will be all right getting to the studio, right?”

  Instantly Mariah was back in business mode. Cooley was impressed.

  “Yes, ba—Mariah, I can manage. Thank you again.”

  Mariah blushed. “Anytime. Call if you need me.”

  “I’ll call you later.”

  Mariah grabbed her purse and left.

  Cooley poked her head out the door to make sure the coast was clear.

  Denise rumbled through her duffle bag. She braced herself for Cooley.

  Cooley closed the door and turned around, leaning against the door.

  “Really, Dee.”

  “What?” Denise cackled.

  “You know what? I’m not even gonna say what you think I’m going to say. She seems cool, good taste in clothes. Thick-ass legs for a white girl. I even like the red hair. At least she’s not a blonde.”

  “Mariah is just a friend. Nothing happened.”

  “Riiighhhhttt.” Cooley walked farther into the room. “Whatever you say. Carmen gon’ kick yo ass when she finds out you fucking Vanilla now. And you got an old Vanilla drop too.”

  “I’m not fucking anything. She was my sports agent. She helped me land the modeling gig, which I gotta get ready to get to. Wait, what the hell are you doing here anyway?”

  Cooley stretched out over the bed. “Well, I got some business to look into here. On top of that, I got this girly-ass picture of my friend and figured she had lost her damn mind, so, I had to come and check on you.”

  Denise snickered. “It’s not like that. Dude, you won’t believe. I’m the new face of Jocku.”

  Cooley sat up on the bed. Her eyes widened. “You are bullshittin’ me.”

  “I’m serious. Mariah got it for me.”

  “Dee, you aren’t a model. Hell, have you ever worn heels?”

  “Yeah, once, but it’s not like that. You’ll see for yourself. Come go with me to the studio. They took some pics of me for my first ad, and I’m going to see it today.” Denise gleamed with pride.

  “Damn right. I can’t believe this, my dog, I mean, my girl is a model. I might have to put you in one of my videos.” Cooley stood up.

  Denise pushed her back on the bed.

  “Man, this is just for work.” Denise walked over to the mirror. She brushed her thick black hair.

  Cooley’s mouth twisted. “Yeah ...” Cooley watched her friend primp in the mirror, something Denise never enjoyed doing. “I think I’m having an outer body experience right now.”

  Denise looked at Cooley’s reflection in the mirror. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because I’m sitting on the bed, waiting on yo ass to get out the mirror and I could care less about looking in one at all.”

  Denise turned around. “Dude, are you still trippin’ about that?” Denise pointed to Cooley’s right cheek.

  Cooley lowered her head. “I just don’t feel like I’m me anymore sometimes.”

  “Carla, your face was never what made you. It was your swagger and your confidence. You have to realize that your face might have attracted women in the beginning, but it was your words and attitude that made them fall crazy for you.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Phil, for those inspirational words. But I’ve heard them before.” Cooley threw a pillow at Denise as they both laughed.

  Denise hailed a cab.

  Cooley laughed, calling Denise a New Yorker. Cooley took the sights in while listening to Denise gush about her photo shoot and Mariah.

  Her mind drifted to Sahara. Sahara’s smile warmed Cooley’s body. Misha entered Cooley’s mind, the warm feeling replaced with an icy cold.

  “Dee, what did you really think of my relationship with Mish? Do you think she ever loved me?”

  Denise turned her head toward Cooley. Her forehead wrinkled slightly from the question. “I think that you both loved each other, but not as much as you or she thought you did.”

  Cooley’s right eyebrow rose. “Elaborate.”

  Denise shifted her body toward Cooley. “Well, don’t laugh, OK.”

  “Oh God, what the hell are you about to say?”

  “OK, check this out. I was reading the Twilight Series.”

  “Damn here you go.” Cooley giggled at the thought of Denise being apart of the vampire phenomenon that had taken over the planet. She decided to hide her secret of liking the series for a little longer.

  “Shut up. You liked the movies too, and I know it. I’m surprised you haven’t picked up the book.” Denise smiled.

  Cooley threw her middle finger at Denise. She hated when Denise was right.

  “But, seriously, in the book the girl Bella is all in love with the vampire, but she also loves the werewolf.”

  “Remind me why I am listening to you right now.” Cooley turned her head.

  Denise hit her on her shoulder.

  “Man, for real, this shit was deep. Jacob, man, loved the hell out of Bella, and even though Bella loved Jacob, her heart already belonged to someone else, Edward.”

  Cooley turned back to Denise. “Soooo, you are saying. . .”

  “That we are the Jacobs of the world. Misha and Lena, they are Bella. They love us, we are good for them, but their hearts already belong to other people.”

  Cooley and Denise looked at each other. Cooley shook her head. “I can’t believe that shit actually made sense.”

  They both erupted into laughter. The cab driver even smirked at their silly conversation.

  “I guess that makes us the wolf pack.”

  “Team Jacob.”

  Cooley paused. She nudged Denise. “Hell, naw, you did not just say that. I think you are going femme for real.”

  The taxi pulled up to the large building. Denise checked her look as Cooley paid for the cab.

  Cooley shook her head. “I don’t know who you are anymore.” She crossed her arms, like an emotional woman.

  “Shut the hell up.” Denise grabbed Cooley’s arm as they walked to the building.

  The scene was a lot less busy than the other day. It was fairly quiet. A faint sound of Lady Gaga played over the speakers.

  Cooley grinned at the skinny supermodel wannabe sitting behind the desk. She smiled back. Cooley made a mental note to check on her when they left.

  “Hello, Ms. Chambers.” The receptionist stood up. Her Chanel skirt was hugging her nonexistent thighs. She walked from behind the desk. “Follow me.” The receptionist glanced at Cooley again.

  Denise and Cooley walked behind her, noticing her attempt to switch. Cooley looked at Denise, both thinking the same thing.

  “Damn shame,” Cooley whispered.

  “No ass at all,” Denise mouthed.

  They both g
iggled.

  The receptionist opened a large black door. Denise and Cooley walked in. Marco looked up from the computer in front of him. His associates and brand directors sat in anticipation.

  “Ahh, Denise.” Marco pressed his hands together.

  “Hello. This is my associate, Carla Wade.”

  “Greetings, Ms. Wade. Please.” Marco motioned for Denise and Cooley to sit down. “I’m going to let Armund take over.”

  Armund’s chair swiveled around; he stood up, his long frame towering over everyone. “Well, as you all know, the first ad campaign just wasn’t working for us. Then Denise came along. Everything has come together so well that we are rushing out this out immediately. This will be in every major magazine in the nation.”

  Armund pushed a button on a small remote in his hand. Denise’s image caught her and Cooley completely off guard.Both were speechless, completely ignoring the claps around them.

  Denise struggled to catch her breath, and Cooley was flabbergasted. Denise’s image covered the large white wall, her hair wild and curly, her black halter shirt revealing her rock-hard abs, with the Jocku logo on it. From the top up, she was feminine, a sight she was unfamiliar with. Below, a pair of baggy jeans similar to the ones she wore on a daily basis.

  “Wow,” Denise muttered.

  “This will not be the only one. This is just the first of a few campaigns we are running. The billboard should be placed by the end of next week.” Armund sat back in his chair.

  Marco noticed Denise’s and Cooley’s vacant expressions. “You do not like?”

  Denise’s head quickly turned to Marco. “Oh no, it’s amazing. I just ...” Denise looked at Cooley, whose mouth was still slightly dropped. “I have just never seen myself like that before.”

  Marco smiled. “Such humility.”

  “Let’s see how long it lasts,” Armund stated.

  Cooley and Denise sat in the taxi in silence.

  Denise quickly realized how unimportant the model was after taking the picture. She wouldn’t be involved in picking pictures or anything. She was the face. She showed up and did whatever they told her to do, a role she was not used to playing.

  “Did I do the right thing?” Denise uttered, interrupting the awkward silence.

  Cooley looked up from her iPhone. “What do you mean?”

  “This whole thing, it’s not me. I’m not that woman who was on that wall. What the fuck was I thinking?”

  “Dee, I’ll admit I was very ... very shocked by the look. But, fuck it, if you gotta dress like a damn girl to make yo money, than you do it. I can’t lie, you looked good, dude. I was impressed, really. No joking. I think you might just have stumbled into a serious career here.”

  Denise could tell from Cooley’s serious expression that she was sincere. “I’m a model?” Denise questioned.

  “Looks that way.”

  Denise tried to fight it, but slowly a smile appeared on her face. It wasn’t basketball, but she liked it just the same.

  20

  Lena’s pillow was stuck to the side of her face. She pulled the pillow off. It was still damp. She had cried herself to sleep again. The idea of moving on was harder than she expected.

  Lena consumed her days with shopping and redecorating. She dragged Carmen out with her to buy useless items. Carmen didn’t mind, as the things Lena replaced came to her half-furnished apartment.

  Brandon didn’t mind the excessive spending. He handed her a new Black card. If spending helped her get over her depression he was OK with it. Anything to help her heal and him feel better for the mess he felt guilty for causing.

  Lena forced herself out of bed. She knew it was going to be a down day for her. It was one in the afternoon and she was just waking up. The cold floor alerted her senses. She made a mental note to buy a nice rug for her floor.

  Lena walked into her kitchen. She had dismissed her maid; she had grown tired of her worrying for Lena in Spanish every morning.

  The silence in her loft was irritating. She turned her plasma on loud. The sound of Wendy Williams ranting about the hot gossip of the day helped, but not a lot.

  Lena knew it was time. She had been dreading the phone call, but her mother’s constant voice mails were a nagging reminder. She knew if she didn’t contact her mother soon she would show up. Lena sipped her espresso. The strong coffee woke the rest of her body up quickly.

  She stared at her phone. She pressed the button for her mother’s cell.

  “Lena, you better have one great excuse for not calling me.” Karen Jamerson held a black Dior dress up to her in the full-body mirror in the upscale boutique.

  “Mom, are you busy right now?”

  “If you call shopping for the UNCF fundraising gala tonight busy, then yes, but you know I’m never too busy for my beautiful daughter.”

  A huge knot filled Lena’s throat. The words stung. She sighed. “Mother, I have something to tell you.”

  “Yes, do you have this in a six? Make it an eight?” Karen handed the dress to the eager store clerk. “Yes, dear?”

  “Mother ... I ...” Tears filled Lena’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, Mom.”

  Karen’s body trembled. “Lena, what is going on?” she sat on the plush chair next to the rack of designer threads.

  “Mom there’s something I should have told you a while ago but ...”

  “Lena please just tell me before I have a heart attack.” Karen held her hand over her mouth.

  Lena took a deep breath. “Well, um, I ... See ...”

  “Lena!”

  “Mom I’m not going back to school this semester.” Lena closed her eyes and sighed.

  Karen let a sigh of relief. “Is that it? Lena don’t ever have me scared like that again. I’m over here thinking something horrible happened.” Karen stood back up as the assistant brought over a new outfit. Karen gave the navy dress a thumbs up.

  “No mom it’s nothing worse than that. I just know you and dad were expecting me to finish this year, but ...”

  “Oh Lena, please that is totally understandable. You are a newlywed. You have a house to prepare, hopefully including a nursery soon.”

  The words pierced Lena. She wanted to cry but held it in. “We are taking our time on that.” Lena couldn’t tell the her mother the truth. Telling her mother would bring too many questions she wasn’t prepared to answer.

  “Well, don’t take too long, I do want my granddaughter to see me in my glory years.” Karen admired her beauty in the three way mirror.

  Her mother’s conversation was too much to bear. Lena couldn’t hold the tears in. She didn’t get the chance to find out if she was having a girl or a boy. “Well, I just wanted to let you know so you wouldn’t be expecting a graduation this year.”

  “I will let your father know. My darling I bet you are swamped over there. Do you need me to come to town?”

  “No!” Lena caught herself. “No, mother things are fine.”

  Karen paused. “If things are fine Lena, why do you sound like they aren’t? What is really going on?”

  Lena wanted to come clean. She wanted to tell her mother everything that was going on in her life but she couldn’t. “I’m just really tired.”

  “Well, how about we go away for a week. Hamptons or some where exotic.”

  “As nice as that sounds I need to get this house together. Maybe later.”

  “OK well I really need to figure out what I am wearing to this benefit. Oh but Lena, if you ever go so long without calling me I will be there so fast you will think I used a rocket instead of a plane.”

  Lena hung up from her mother with a sense of relief. She didn’t have to worry about her mother showing up and prying in her life for a little while longer. She knew she should have told her that Brandon wasn’t living there, but she knew that would warrant a visit for sure.

  Lena finished her espresso and got up from the table. She had shopping to do, and had already lost half of her day.

  21

  Coo
ley got in the taxi and handed a small piece of paper to the Indian cab driver. “Can you take me to this address?”

  Cooley turned down the invitation from Mariah and Denise to go to Avenue Q with them. She let them talk her into going to see The Lion King the night before. Cooley had to admit, The Lion King was a lot better than she expected, but the thought of watching puppets sing crazy songs just wasn’t appealing to her.

  Cooley received the call she had been waiting on. Tee called with the address and phone number for Sonic. After a long conversation, she knew it was time for her to step in.

  Cooley looked out the window. She would have to enjoy Harlem another day. They pulled up to the tall apartment building. Cooley looked up at the numbers on the wall. She was there. She paid the cab driver and got out of the car.

  Cooley pressed the buzzer for apartment 506. Instantly a buzzing noise echoed, and she heard the lock unlatch. Cooley walked into the building. The hallway of the building had an old smell to it. The paint on the walls was chipping, with tiles on the floor scuffed and broken in places. The rank smell of sweat and mildew hit her as she got into the small elevator. She tried to hold her breath until making it to the fifth floor.

  Cooley walked down the long hallway. The few working lights flickered on and off. Cooley examined the sounds coming from the passing apartments. Someone was watching BET in apartment 501. She could hear Keyshia Cole’s mother’s voice clearly.

  Cooley stopped at her destination. She tried to listen. There was music coming from the apartment, but she couldn’t make out the lyrics. There was a lingering smell of weed coming from under the door. She knocked twice.

  Cooley heard the various locks unlocking. The door opened. A petite woman opened the door. Cooley knew the face, she just couldn’t place it. The woman smiled, throwing her long Beyoncé curls behind when she moved her head.

  “Hey, Cooley.” The woman reached out.

  Cooley hugged the girl, trying to remember where she knew her from.

  “Hey ... ummm ...”

  The woman pulled back and looked at Cooley. Cooley could see the disappointment.