A Hot Mess Read online

  “Thanks, because you never apologize for nothing,” Joy said.

  “Lecia, I ain’t that same dude. Life has taken many turns. I see it different, and I see what’s really important,” he said, touching her hand and walking toward the entrance of Uno’s.

  Joy turned to her friend. “What you gonna do, Kim?”

  “What you think?” Sizemo said, pulling her with him. “She all right.”

  They all laughed, walking into Uno’s, which was packed. They found a seat and watched the band set up. Minke told them to get some drinks while him and Sizemo met with his employees from the different shops.

  As they began to walk off, Joy called Minke.

  “What up, babe?”

  “I don’t have a car, and she picked me up for work. We went out last night, and my friends got me. I don’t wanna ask her for nothing else,” she said, staring at him.

  “Oh! I got that. Order me and Size double Patróns.” Minke reached in his pocket and slid her a fifty. “Just hold that. You gonna be all right.” He smiled.

  “Thanks.”

  “No need to thank me. I owe you the world,” he said and walked off.

  Those words brought tears to Joy’s eyes again.

  Kim saw it, after she sat down. “So that’s the nigga,” she said, smiling.

  “What?”

  “You know what I’m talking about, Lecia.” Kim laughed. “We all got that nigga in our life. We keep going, we deal with life, but we think about him, and he changes everything in your life. He got power to make life great or pull you down to make you feel like shit. Right now, you ain’t thinking about Omari and no other nigga. Are you?”

  “Nobody. Nobody matters,” Joy said with a smile.

  “Glad you smiling because you been fucked up all day.”

  “I ain’t fucked up now, I ain’t fucked up now,” Joy said, her head moving and a big smile.

  “So what’s with Size? Big, pretty-ass nigga with the pretty hair.”

  “He real as they come. No-nonsense nigga. I ain’t never know him to be all serious. He love to have fun. He mad cool,” Joy said, letting her know he was somebody to fuck with.

  “Where he from?”

  “Think he from here. And if I ain’t mistaken, think he from Lake Edward somewhere. Shit! I met him fucking with these Brooklyn niggas, so all I can say is, he about that paper. He run all Minke shit. That’s his dude.”

  “Gotcha, girl,” Kim said, picking up her drink, looking over at Size, as she heard the live jazz band begin their session.

  Omari had called several times, but Joy ignored his calls. She’d just answered when Kim hit her, letting her know Minke was on his way.

  “Gotta go, Omari. Will finish this later. I need my shit.” Joy hung up.

  Joy stared at Minke as he made his way over to her. He still looked good as hell to her, especially since he had bulked up. I guess that came from his two-year bid. He was really filling out his white V-neck, and the True Religion jeans, and blue-and-grey Prada, along with the Prada watch and bracelet, let onlookers know he was that nigga.

  As he walked over to the two thickest women, anticipating his company, he glanced over the room to catch all the glances of the attractive women sitting at tables and booths.

  “So you all right?” Minke leaned over on the table and made his presence known. “Let me order them something. Then I’ll be back.” He took one long look at his ex-wife, realizing that she caught and held his attention just like she did years ago. It was hard to break. He just wanted to stare. He shook his head and walked away with his drink.

  “Damn!” Joy heard him say as he moved toward the bar.

  Sizemo came and stood beside Minke. “So everything good?” he asked.

  “No doubt. As long as I’m not coming out of pocket right now. I need for each spot to up its weekly revenue, but we discussed that, so we’ll see what happens next week. If it don’t change, then I’m gonna make some changes. Like, when I came through today, two of the chairs were empty. I don’t give a fuck if them niggas do pay their rent on time, and there every day. I want them at their station all day until you close the door, leave for lunch. If they can’t respect that, find a nigga that need that money and don’t mind securing his position. I want true moneymakers and go-getters in my shit and around me. This is my life. Niggas don’t know.”

  “Feel you, bossman,” Sizemo said, knowing Minke didn’t play when it came to these businesses.

  “So what’s with mommy, son?” Minke asked.

  “She seem chill. Just talkin’ for a second. She act like she with it. You know me. Love to hit a big one every now and then.” Sizemo was serious.

  “You can have ’em, son. Fuckin with those hoes is a lot of work. Lecia wa’n’t never that big, but I fell in love with her when she was small, so that love still there. It didn’t and don’t matter. I’ll always have love for her, and she’s my kids’ mother. But now that I’m older and been through all these phat-ass, big-tittie, thick black bitches, my choices are a little different, preferably a little smaller. That’s what turn me on. And they ain’t got to be black.”

  “You done with black hoes, son?” Sizemo smiled.

  “I ain’t done, but right now what turn me on is that exotic shit wit’ tight bodies, like my Dominican thing up top, or my shit I fuck wit’ in D.C. Know what I mean? Do you hear me, son?”

  “Yeah, I hear ya. But I love these black shorties and I love to fuck a fat girl from time to time, especially a pretty one.” Sizemo began making his way to the table, with Minke right behind him.

  After a few drinks and light conversation, they decided to make moves. Kim carried Sizemo back to his truck that he’d left in front of the shop, and Minke took Joy to her spot.

  “So how long you been living here?” Minke asked, as they entered the little apartment.

  “I guess for a couple years. I had to get something I could afford. I been out here fucked up for so long and been without, I don’t care if I have to have muthafuckas sleeping on the floor or in the tub. I’ll never be fucked up again.” Joy looked at Minke with a serious attitude, so he’d know she wasn’t joking or playing in no way.

  “I feel you, Lecia. You always been stronger than you gave yourself credit for, I knew you would come to see that in your own time.” Minke walked over to the counter, where he pulled out some weed and a fresh Dutch.

  “So where the kids? What they been doing?” he asked, looking around the apartment then walking in her room.

  “Probably in the room.”

  Minke finished rolling his Dutch and lit it.

  Just then, his son walked out the room. “Ma, where you been? You usually don’t come in here this late. Where you been?”

  “Don’t question my woman. She been with me. Is that okay?” Minke said, startling his son.

  “Dad!” Juan yelled as he ran in his father’s arms, almost making him drop his Dutch.

  Minke wrapped his arms around his son and held him almost as tight as he was holding him.

  Lecia walked to her doorway and stood staring at her two men. She didn’t know what she was feeling. Her heart was in her stomach.

  And the ringing of her phone made the feeling worse. Minke had left her hanging dry, and for all the men she’d pass time with her business, not his. And she didn’t need for him to know anything she’d done or how she was living. She wanted him to look at her as that woman, like he did before that shit got in his head. She didn’t want him to think she had changed in a negative way. So she ignored her phone, with plans to turn it off as soon as she got the opportunity.

  “Your sister ’sleep?” Minke asked, with little expression.

  “Yes, come in here. She always knocked out.” Juan guided his dad to their room.

  Minke looked at his daughter then leaned down and gave her a kiss.

  She turned slowly, flipping over, realizing she’d been disturbed. She tried to focus on the man she hadn’t seen in years. “Daddy,” she said in
a slur, wiping her eyes.

  “You okay, baby girl? Go back to sleep. I’ll be here when you get up.” He smiled at her and kissed her again.

  “You staying here with us, Dad?” Juan asked.

  “Me and your mom been talking, son, you know, trying to catch up, but I can say that I’m not going far ever again. That you believe, okay,” Minke said, looking into his son’s eyes. “You two get some rest, and we’ll talk later,” he added and walked back into the front room.

  Minke flipped on the TV and sat down. He lit his el again.

  Joy was in the bathroom with the door shut, but he couldn’t help but hear her on the phone telling someone she would call them back when she finished taking her shower. And a shot of jealousy ran through him.

  He got back up and made his way to her bedroom. They hadn’t been together in years, and he knew she hadn’t been alone. But looking at how she was living, he figured, if she had a man in her life, working at Verizon, she should have a little more than she did.

  He looked around at the old apartment and thought about the location. It was in one of the slummiest areas of town, with dirty, pissy hallways, and niggas hanging all out in the front. And she had two old-ass TVs, and the furniture looked as if it came with the place, secondhand for sure. The only thing that looked new was the bedroom set.

  He heard her come out the shower while he was flipping through the stations.

  Joy appeared in the doorway wearing her short pink terry cloth dress that she’d turned into a nightie after it got old. It was revealing a lot of skin.

  Minke couldn’t see her big ass wearing that in the street, but what? He didn’t really know her anymore. “You hitting this?” He held out the el for her to grab.

  “Hell, yeah,” she answered and sat down beside him. “Smell like some good-good.” She took the smoke and inhaled like she was hitting a joint.

  “Kush, baby. You ain’t got to hit it like you hitting some bullshit. That ain’t nothing but the truth.” Minke smiled. “So where you moving to?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the couch.

  For some reason, Minke didn’t feel comfortable. This hood shit wasn’t really him anymore. He liked being in nice shit, in a nice area, but he tried to understand that she was doing the best she could. He was glad she was moving, especially since he was going to be hanging around.

  Her phone rang again, and she ignored it. Then it rang again. That’s when he realized why he had this uncomfortable feeling.

  “Give me a second.” She passed him the Dutch and went in the room to answer her phone.

  “I’ll be right back. Running to the Smoke Shack I saw up the street,” he said, looking at her backside. “Need anything?”

  “What you going to get?” she asked. Joy could see something in his eyes change every time her phone rang.

  “Box of Dutches and a pack of Newports. Might stop and get some beer.”

  “Naw, I’m good,” she said, picking up the phone as Minke walked out.

  “Who you talking to?” Omari asked.

  “What you want? We got something to talk about. My car. So if that ain’t the conversation, then again, what do you want?”

  “Who you comin’ off like that on? I wanna sit down and talk and you trying to be funny,” Omari said angrily.

  “Son, you are stressing me. If you not here to bring me up, which you ain’t, then leave me alone. Omari, please. I got to get shit together.” She listened to him go on and on about nothing, until she heard the knock at the door. “I gotta go, boy. Later.”

  “I heard that knock. Who is that?” he yelled before he heard the phone go dead, sending a burst of rage and jealousy through him.

  Joy opened the door and turned her phone on vibrate.

  Minke walked inside, catching a funny feeling when he saw her step outside the apartment door and lock the main door to the apartment building.

  He rolled another Dutch and grabbed a Heineken before he sat back down next to her. “So, Alecia, I know life’s been a struggle, but talk to me. How you been? What you been up to?”

  “Nothing. Just going to work and coming home. I don’t really do nothing,” she answered. But she knew he wanted more, he never said her whole name unless something was on his mind and he was serious.

  Minke pulled on the Dutch real hard and blew it out. He took a long, hard gulp of his Heineken and was getting ready to say something when her phone began to vibrate again, back to back. He didn’t feel like he had the right to really say anything, seeing he was just coming back into her life.

  “You do more than go to work and come home. You got some other shit cracking, the way that phone keep going off. And it’s after eleven.”

  Joy sat quiet for a second then she finally spoke.

  “I had a friend, but it didn’t work. He was real jealous, and every time he thought some shit, I went through hell proving otherwise. That day I went and saw Size, we went to eat at Applebee’s. Somehow he found out, and the next day, he took my car.”

  Minke smirked. “How he take your car?”

  “He helped me with the down payment, and I had it in his name because my license was messed up. So he came and took it.”

  “So y’all were serious?”

  “Not like that. He was a close friend,” she said, getting more frustrated with the conversation.

  “Did he live with you and my kids?” he asked, looking at her. “Were y’all together like that?”

  “He stayed here sometimes.”

  “So he had a key to your house and car?” Minke’s heart was crushed. It had been a while, but he could never picture her being with another dude.

  “Look, girls use that friend shit like it’s nothing. But if you living with a dude, sharing the same bed every night, fucking a nigga day in and day out, guess what? He’s not a friend, he’s your man. And if he feel like that, then his feelings make him act in a jealous, protective way. And you as a woman can’t do shit to control him. That’s why I asked you, ‘What’s up?’ Please don’t have me in no shit.”

  “I’m not with noboby, and I don’t have a man, so I don’t need to hear all that.” Her phone began to vibrate again.

  “Answer that. Whoever trying to get in touch with you, if they know where you live, you rather talk to them and let them know the deal. You don’t want them coming around, wilding out.”

  “Nobody better not come over here wilding. This is my spot and—”

  Bam! Bam! Bam!

  Suddenly, they heard banging at the front door.

  Minke smirked at her while she sat still as if things changed to slow motion.

  Seconds later the banging came to her living room window, while the yelling of her name let her know that Omari was outside and wasn’t going away. She looked at Minke, with her eyes wide.

  He could see she was scared and had been caught up in a situation that wasn’t good. “Go outside, baby. Get your dude. Talk to him, before I have to put the spark to him.” Minke smirked. “Brooklyn, baby. My nigga Big already warned niggas,” he said with a serious look and a calm tone. “Maybe he ain’t heard.”

  Then they heard and saw the window shatter. They both jumped up, and by the time Minke got to his feet, the 9 mm Beretta was in his hand.

  “No, Minke, please!” Joy yelled as her kids came out the room.

  When she saw Minke cock the gun and put one in the chamber, she exited the house and went out front, yelling, “What is wrong with you, Omari? Go home!”

  “I am home, bitch! Fuck is you doing, locking the door? You got a nigga in my shit?” he said, trying to make his way in.

  “You can’t come in my house, Omari!” she yelled, grabbing his arm. But she instantly felt his hands wrap around her neck, lift her on her toes, and guide her inside.

  “That’s Omari, Dad,” Juan said. “He’s a big dude.”

  “Go in the room.”

  Boom!

  The door flew open, and Joy’s body landed on the floor.

  But the butt of
the 9 mm against Omari’s head dropped him to his knees. When he looked up, the barrel of the 9 mm brought him back to his senses. He stayed on his knees, not being able to move, his life flashing before him.

  “Wrong house, wrong girl, wrong night. This is my wife and kids, my dude,” Minke said, his finger on the trigger.

  Joy lay on the floor speechless, tears in her eyes, her hands over her mouth.

  “Don’t shoot Omari, Daddy. He’s nice. He plays with me,” Minke heard his daughter say, and it weakened him. He couldn’t pull the trigger.

  “Go! Get out!” Joy screamed at the top of her lungs.

  Omari crawled out the door, jumped to his feet, and burst.

  Joy looked at Minke, and in his eyes all she saw was murder, that same look she had seen before in his eyes and Hitler’s. He was looking straight through her.

  She got to her feet and walked over, put her arms around her kids, and went into the room, shaking.

  Minke walked outside to see Omari flying out the parking lot. He came inside and shut the door, sat the 9mm on the table, and lit his Dutch.

  “Damn, Hitler! Why niggas want me outta here, either locked or earthed, cousin? You always said, ‘Drugs, money, and bitches, one of them always get a nigga.’ I’ve done good with the drugs and the money, but these bitches, oh, my God! Only you can protect me,” he said in a low tone, trying to calm down. His adrenaline was running high, but he’d learned to stay calm, stay alert, and stay on point.

  “Alecia!” he yelled. “Alecia, get the fuck out here, man!”

  Still scared, she came out moving slow, her neck bruised and tears in her eyes.

  “Got any more fuckin’ friends? Huh? Let’s deal with all this shit tonight.”

  “No,” she said softly.

  “Here,” he said, passing her the Dutch. “Take that in the room and get dressed. I don’t wanna stay here.”

  “Juan!” he yelled. “Get dressed and put something on your sister. We out.”

  In minutes they were dressed and in the Lex, rolling downtown, where Minke got a suite at the Marriott Waterside.

  Juan and Quandra ran and dove into the twin beds, while Lecia ran the water to the Jacuzzi tub, so she could take a bath and relax her mind, which was still racing.