So, So Hood

by L. Divine

  “His secretary informed me of her impending maternity leave. The bitch has been single since she started working for your father three years ago.” Mrs. Carmichael crosses the foyer and heads to the dining room where the bar is housed. I guess she needs something stronger. “The bastard didn’t even want children and now he’s going to be a father all over again.”

  “Mom, you don’t need him. I’m here for you.” Chance takes the whiskey bottle from his mother who begins to cry. Every time I come over here it’s some heavy shit to deal with. Where’s that spray when we need it?

  Speechless, Alia grabs the roll of paper towels off the counter and passes them to Mrs. Carmichael who smiles at her. Nellie never got a genuine smile out of Chance’s mom.

  “Thank you, Alia.” Mrs. Carmichael takes a sheet and loudly blows her nose.

  “Mrs. Carmichael, here are your new keys. I’m all finished. The alarm company should be out soon to reset your code and password.”

  Whatever he was thinking before the full confession has changed his expression from one of judgment to sympathy.

  “I’ll take those, man,” Chance says, walking over to the locksmith and signing the bill. He takes the new keys and places them on the table in the center of the foyer.

  “Chance, I’m glad you finally saw through that gold-digging hussie you had the nerve to bring home. If you and Jayd can’t be together I think Alia’s a good choice.”

  We look shocked at her candor, but I’ll blame it on the alcohol and think nothing of it. Alia’s blushing, but says nothing and Chance simply shakes his head, used to his mother’s ways.

  “I think it’s time to get you upstairs, Mom. I’ll handle your husband if he comes home.”

  Chance has forgiven his mom for keeping his adoption a secret, but his dad has never been one of his favorite people. And now that Mr. Carmichael’s been caught cheating on his mom all ties he ever had to the man are severed.

  “We need to get away, Chance. I’m thinking Paris is nice this time of year. Yes, Europe since we weren’t able to travel together this summer,” Mrs. Carmichael says as Chance helps her upstairs.

  “Wherever you want to go, Mom. But first let’s get you to go to sleep, then we’ll plan a trip.” Chance looks back at us and smiles, directing us to go into the living room and wait. I have to be at work in an hour. I should hit the road soon since I’m not needed here any longer. Alia and Chance can get their Friday night started early without a third wheel slowing them down. I used to get excited about Jeremy and me spending our weekends together so I know how they feel. I miss having my man around.

  “And Jayd, how is Jeremy?” Mrs. Carmichael asks from the top of the stairs. “I heard the London trip was fabulous this year.”

  “I guess it depends on who you talk to,” I say, not wanting to get into that conversation again. I need to figure out a way to make liquor less of Mrs. Carmichael’s friend and her good judgment more, soon. “Chance, I’ve got to get going or I’ll be late to the shop.”

  “All right, Jayd. I’ll see you at the party tomorrow,” Chance says from his mother’s room. I look at Alia who looks happy to see me go. This girl got everything she wanted and didn’t have to be evil to get it. Every female I know needs to take lessons from her playbook.

  “Bye, Mrs. Carmichael. See you later, Alia.” Unlocking the front door is a bit more of a hassle with the extra bolt at the top. Short of using a sledgehammer there’s no way Mr. Carmichael’s getting through this thing. When love goes bad it can be the most vindictive time in a person’s life. I pity Mr. Carmichael for betraying his wife. God doesn’t like ugly and this is as unpleasant as it gets.

  Last night was the busiest we’ve been at Netta’s shop in months. Whatever Mama and Netta cleansed the space with after Netta’s sisters left worked and brought prosperity back in full effect. Some of the positive vibes trickled down into my own work. I had no shortage of clients today. I even had to turn down some heads so I could help out with Nellie and Mickey’s birthday housewarming party. I hope this party turns out better than Mickey’s baby shower we held at Nigel’s house. That event went from chill to hood in a matter of seconds and the same thing’s liable to happen if any of Mickey’s folks show up.

  “Mickey, did we get a final RSVP head count? I need to know how many party favors to put out,” Nellie says, in full Martha Stewart mode.

  “I thought the point of having a party was to get gifts, not give them.” Mickey’s not into the good hostess act one bit. Nellie’s had to compromise a lot for this joint venture, right down to the menu.

  “That’s how we get good gifts and more gracious guests.” Nellie continues tying ribbons on the tiny gift bags with all kinds of goodies inside. My girl knows how to throw a classy affair.

  “Fine,” Mickey says, sitting down at Rah’s desk. “I’m going to see if we had any responses on Facebook and Twitter. I put out the word about an hour ago.”

  “You’re just now inviting people to our party?” Nellie asks, mortified. “Who the hell’s going to show up with hardly any notice? This is horrible, Mickey.”

  “Aren’t you overreacting?” Mickey asks, unmoved by Nellie’s usual antics. “If people want to roll through they will, no matter when they found out about the damned thing.”

  Furious, Nellie begins putting the small gold gift bags back in the box where she’s keeping them. “There’s no point in making any more of these. It’s only going to be us at the party anyway. Some birthday.”

  Placing the last bag inside, Nellie picks up the box and storms out of the den, almost knocking Nigel down in the doorway.

  “What did I miss?”

  “Nothing important,” I say, placing the last black napkin in the designated gold basket per Nellie’s instructions. We’re setting up the food and drinks on the back deck. Rah and Nigel have been cleaning the yard all day while us girls have been handling the inside. I’ve only been here for two hours and have done more than Mickey has all day. I understand Nellie’s frustration, but I think it’s time to settle down and eat. Whether or not anyone else shows up isn’t my concern.

  “Nigel, who the hell is Monica on your Facebook page?” Mickey asks, fully enraged. What the hell is on that computer?

  “I don’t know,” Nigel says, lying across the futon. “You’re the one checking the account.”

  “Well she poked your ass,” Mickey says, pointing at the screen. “Strangers don’t usually do that shit.”

  Mickey turns the screen toward Nigel who ignores her attitude. She’s always tripping off who sends him messages on and off the Internet. I just recently set up my online profile, but there’s nothing much on it yet. I put up a couple of pictures and that’s it.

  “I knew setting up that damned chat page was a mistake,” Nigel says, tired from his manual work and Mickey’s nagging. “I’m taking a nap before people start showing up.”

  “Well, I’m changing your relationship status to married,” Mickey says, going into his settings. “Next time the ho wants to poke someone she can holla at me.”

  “Mickey, I don’t want my business all out in the streets,” Nigel says, throwing a pillow at her.

  “Whatever, punk,” she says, throwing it back. Sparring is part of their foreplay. I’d better make myself scarce if this turns into a full-on session between the two of them.

  “Mickey, we aren’t married yet,” Nigel says, stepping behind Mickey. “What the hell?”

  “We’re close enough now that we share an address and a bed.” Common Law isn’t legal anymore, but I’m not getting in the middle of this one.

  “Yeah, we do share a bed, don’t we?” Nigel says, kissing Mickey’s neck, distracting her the best way he knows how. My boy is as slick as they come, but Mickey’s slicker. She may not change his status now, but she won’t forget.

  “I’ll give y’all some privacy,” I say, taking the party goods out with me. We need a “do not disturb” sign for the doors in this house. I hope they don’t miss their
own party fooling around. Nellie’s in the guest bathroom getting dressed. I’m good in my jeans and off the shoulder orange top, courtesy of my mom’s closet. Rah’s putting the girls down in Nigel and Mickey’s room. It’s after nine. If people are coming they should be arriving shortly. It may be a Saturday night, but I have to work in the morning. I want to hang, but I can’t be out too late. Friends or not, I can’t let anyone mess with my money.

  After a half hour of peace, Mickey, Nigel, and Rah emerge ready to hang. Nellie’s finally finished putting herself together looking every bit the young diva she is. The birthday girls are in the same jumpsuit, but Nellie’s is black while Mickey’s wearing gold. They picked the colors and the outfits together. They’ve always liked dressing together for special occasions while I always prefer the individual route.

  “Let the party begin,” Mickey says, ready to get her birthday groove on. Nellie turns her nose up at the loud rap music blaring through the speakers, but changes her attitude when cars begin pulling in the driveway.

  “David’s here,” Nellie says, running out the front door. David pulls up in his white Ford Focus, and Chance pulls up next parking his decked-out Chevy Nova. I don’t know if money matters, but in this case, Chance is definitely the baller.

  Nellie’s new man exits his virgin mobile happy to see our girl. We all look at her like she’s lost her mind, bringing dude to the party knowing Chance would be here. But Chance has a guest of his own.

  “What’s up, peeps?” Chance asks, opening the passenger door to let his companion out. Alia’s beaming ear to ear minus the platinum across her teeth she’s been sporting for the past two years.

  “Alia, your braces are gone,” I say, meeting them at the end of the driveway. I give them each a hug and look more closely at Alia’s bright smile. She looks like a completely different person and her confidence shows she feels like one, too.

  “Yeah. Isn’t it great? And right in time for senior pictures, too,” she says, showing off her pearly whites for all to see. I’m happy for her. She’s a pretty girl and it’s time she thought so. And if any dude can make a girl feel her best it’s Chance. He’ll spoil her like no other—a fact Nellie certainly misses because David’s supposedly humble ass is far from rolling like her ex.

  “Hey, everyone,” Nellie says, joining us. “This is my friend, David. David, these are my friends Jayd, Mickey, and Nigel.”

  Chance looks at Nellie, waiting for his and Alia’s names to be called, which Nellie never does. Even if they’re not together anymore Chance and Nellie can be friends if they’re mature about it. Nellie doesn’t feel the same way.

  “Oh, so it’s like that?” Chance says, taking Alia by the hand and holding it tight. “What’s up, man? I’m Chance and this is my girl, Alia,” Chance says, wiping the plastered smile right off Nellie’s face. That’s what she gets for being rude.

  “Your girl?” Nellie asks. Alia’s been feeling Chance since they went to elementary school together and she wasted no time making her move once he was free and interested. Good for her. Hopefully she’ll appreciate Chance’s good heart. They both deserve it.

  “What’s hood, my nigga?” Chance says, giving Nigel dap. Rah looks like he wants to hit Chance for his greeting.

  “Too soon, man. Too soon,” Nigel says, correcting our boy. Chance’s newfound blackness is taking some getting used to and Rah is less than sympathetic to the transformation.

  “My bad, my brotha,” Chance says. “Where’s the gift table, man? Me and Alia got y’all something real classy.”

  “I’ll show you,” Mickey says, suddenly interested in the gifts. Whatever Chance bought is bound to be expensive.

  Nellie takes David around the back where the food’s waiting to be devoured. I think it’s time for me to head to the deck area with my girl and her plain-looking dude. I’ll give David a shot for Nellie’s sake even if my gut tells me he’s a snake.

  “Chance can’t come up in here fronting, Nigel,” Rah says. “We’ve got too many real niggas from the hood coming tonight.”

  “I got him, man,” Nigel says. “Chance is a little confused, but he’s harmless. Now that nigga David, I’m not sure about.”

  “So it’s not just me who doesn’t like that fool,” I say, shrugging Rah in the side. Nigel and Rah nod in agreement. Both of my boys follow me to the back of the house. Chance has already got the session started sharing a fat blunt with Mickey. Whatever doubt Rah had about Chance’s sincerity vanished with the presence of good herb.

  “We haven’t smelled that kind of good shit in a min,” Nigel says, stepping into the rotation. Nellie and David are sitting in a corner across the yard in their own little world. They can stay there as far as we’re concerned.

  Rah and Nigel’s supply’s dwindled due to Rah’s disagreement with Lance over Sandy’s ass. They’ve decided it’s best not to do business with Lance until that mess is straightened out, mostly because Sandy’s ass can’t be trusted.

  “I got y’all any time you need it, man. My boy grows the best shit in his closet.” Chance takes another hit and passes it to Alia and then Rah who’s impressed by Chance’s rolling technique.

  “In his closet? That’s what I’m talking about,” Nigel says, coughing out smoke. Mickey pats his chest like the true ride or die chick she is for her boo. They may not be the perfect couple, but I can’t imagine two people more suited for each other. I used to think me and Jeremy had that kind of link, but after Cameron’s revelation I’m not so sure.

  “Open my gift,” Chance says, instantly sparking Nellie’s interest who comes over to see what’s in the big box. “It’ll break the ice.”

  “Cool,” Mickey says, retrieving the present from the table next to the sliding glass doors leading back into the den. Nellie helps Mickey rip the wrapping paper off, but it’s not what they expected. “It’s a game,” Mickey says, disappointed.

  “A stupid game is your version of a classy gift?” Nellie’s just as ungrateful as Mickey. If I were Chance I’d never buy them another thing. I gave them money because that’s their favorite gift of all and they could both use it. Neither of them have a job.

  “Yeah,” Chance says, smiling at Alia whose eyes are as red as her boyfriend’s. “I didn’t know what to buy for a housewarming-slash-birthday party, so I thought a game was appropriate for both events.” Chance smiles big, proud of his clever thought process. I think it’s a good compromise.

  “And there’s a Target gift certificate inside the card,” Alia adds. “That was my idea.”

  “Now you’re talking,” Mickey says, opening the card without reading it. “A hundred dollars! Thank you, man.” Mickey kisses Chance on the cheek and hugs Alia, officially welcoming her to the crew.

  Nellie’s jealousy takes the best of her and she goes back to join her man who’s on the phone ignoring us all. I’m not sure if anyone else will show up. Nellie’s right about our girl’s procrastination. Leaving Mickey in charge of contacting the guests was a mistake.

  “Let’s play,” Alia says, opening the box. “I love Truth or Dare.”

  “I don’t,” I say, reliving bad memories of many arguments over the game. “Someone always ends up getting hurt. We should watch a movie since it looks like it’s just us for the night.”

  There’s enough food and drinks on the table to feed an army. In another fifteen minutes or so the munchies will kick in for most of the crew taking care of half of the waffles, chicken wings, and appetizers from Roscoe’s. The rest can go in the empty fridge at my mom’s apartment.

  “I’m going to go take a leak,” Nigel says, walking into the den. “I’m with the game when I get back.”

  Alia sets the game up, against my better judgment, while the rest of us get something to eat. We start the game when Nigel returns, but there’s something different about his demeanor. He was gone for longer than I know it takes for any dude to pee. Whatever he had going on in the house has put him in a foul mood.

  “Truth or dare, Jayd,�
�� Nigel says, snatching up a card and scaring the shit out of me. My friends know I hate this game and I’m pissed I was outnumbered yet again for this evening’s entertainment. Who gets tired of watching movies?

  “Truth, fool,” I answer, popping another chip in my mouth. Maybe I’ll choke and get out of playing this godforsaken game.

  “Is Mickey talking to her ex again?” Nigel did not just ask me that shit in the context of a stupid game and in front of Mickey, too. He knows I can’t lie to him but I also can’t rat out my girl.

  “Nigel, where’d that come from?” Mickey asks, looking as guilty as she is. I told her she should’ve told Nigel when her ex first contacted her no matter if we were able to take care of the problem for the time being or not. The truth always has a way of coming out.

  I look around the dimly lit porch, the slow baseline in the background providing a countdown for my impending confession.

  “Come with it, Jayd,” Rah says, butting in. He’s always liked torturing me. “Yes or no?”

  “I pass,” opting out of the ugly scenario. There’s more going on here than a simple game.

  Mickey breathes a sigh of relief, but she knows her ass is on the line.

  “You can’t pass, Jayd. It’s Truth or Dare. Not Truth, Dare or Pass.” Nigel’s hard-core when it comes to competition, making him an excellent athlete and a ruthless friend. He knows I’m holding back, but how does he know?

  “Nigel, what the hell kind of question is that? Isn’t it supposed to be relevant to my life, not some dumb shit I don’t want to be involved in?” Now I know he knows I’m covering up for my girl, but I’m not saying another word about it. This is between the two of them.

  “Omission is as good as a yes.” Nigel stands up and glares at his woman hard who’s sitting in a chair next to Chance and Alia. If Alia’s going to hang out in our territory she’ll have to get used to how we roll.

  “Hey man, we’re supposed to be playing a game and enjoying ourselves, remember?” Rah says, standing next to his boy who towers over Mickey.