A Hot Mess Page 9

  “When you gonna give me my money back?” he asked, holding in his laugh.

  “Minke, please. You owe—” was all she got out.

  “Fuckin’ wit’ cha! Check this. I’ll pay the security deposit and three months rent . . . if you got me. I need a spot to crash for a second.”

  “Yeah, Minke,” she said, knowing he ain’t need her place, but just wanted to control some shit. Niggas pay like they weight, she thought. That’s how they roll in his world.

  “Call me on your phone.” And he gave her his number.

  She did it, and now they were on her phone.

  “Lock me in. I’m gonna hit you later and let you know when I’ll be in town.”

  “Okay,” she said softly.

  “Love ya, Lecia,” he said softly.

  Joy smiled. “Yeah, right.” She walked back inside to see Sizemo eating, and her food sitting there. “Here’s your phone. Thank you,” she said, smiling.

  “You better not had got the number off my phone.”

  “He gave it to me.”

  “Oh! Shit, don’t y’all call me when he come in town and y’all wilding out. I had enough of that shit.”

  “Nobody argued more than Queen and Hitler. That’s who you had to keep from killing each other.” Joy laughed.

  “Literally from killing each other, and in the end, they killed each other.” Sizemo laughed, but Joy didn’t.

  They finished eating, and they talked all the way to the mall, where Joy helped Sizemo pick out a Coach bag and shoes for Kamrin, his new love.

  The day went fast.

  Sizemo took her back to get her car and told her to come by and hit another Dutch. She did, and also got a chance to meet Kamrin. It was a day she enjoyed. She hadn’t had a day like that in a while.

  Joy went home envying the way Sizemo talked about his love for the woman in his life. Minke was the only man to ever love her like that. She hadn’t seen love like that since him. It actually made her anxious. She couldn’t wait to see him. She fell asleep trying to think of every reason she should hate him, but she couldn’t. And she didn’t know why. She fell asleep that night with Minke on her mind, and tears in her heart.

  The next morning Joy woke to the ringing of her phone. It was Omari. She knew it was an argument on the other end, so she ignored him. She got up and jumped in the shower then came out to get dressed. She saw she’d missed several calls. When it rang again, she picked up.

  “Hello,” she said. “I’m trying to get dressed, boy. What’s up?”

  “Fuck you mean, what’s up?” he yelled. “Don’t gaff me off! I saw you with that nigga yesterday! You driving niggas around in my shit!”

  “Fuck you, Omari! It ain’t yo business what the fuck I do. And, nigga, you ain’t made not one payment on shit. Get the fuck outta here!”

  “Well, I made it my business, and you won’t be riding and fucking the next nigga in my shit, bitch!” he said and hung up.

  Joy called him back, but he didn’t answer. After several attempts, he picked up.

  “What?”

  “Kill that shit, Omari. That’s my shit. I made the payments and fixed it when it broke. I pay the insurance, taxes. Come on, son, I even let you drive it. That’s my shit, so kill that.” Joy couldn’t believe he was coming at her like that.

  “Come on, son,” he said laughing. “You back on that New York shit. You on that slick shit now. Y’all bitches think ya slick—’til ya ass in a sling! But don’t underestimate this Norfolk nigga, baby. I gave my all and you shitted on me. Now you gonna see how I really get down. Stanking-ass, nasty, fat bitch!”

  Joy listened in complete silence to the cruel comments.

  “I can’t believe you did this shit to me,” she heard him say in a whining voice.

  “Nigga, you must have lost your mind. You got me fucked up. I’m tired of this going-without shit, and nigga, you are not a contributor. You ain’t even a damn sponsor. A sponsor can give anything. You don’t give me shit, and it’s come-up time. Done with ya, son!” she yelled and hung up.

  Joy felt like a weight had been lifted off her. She felt free.

  She finished getting herself together and looked in the mirror. “God, I thank You for all You do, all You’ve done, and all You gonna do. Look over my family, and God, please put Your arms around me and keep me safe. Amen.” She smiled.

  She grabbed her purse and keys and headed out, but when she reached the parking lot, her smile disappeared. Like being hit with a sledgehammer. Her car was gone. She ran in the house mad as hell with tears in her eyes. She picked up her phone and called Omari, but he never answered. After the twentieth time, she gave up.

  “What up, Ma?” she heard her son say. Her still being home was unusual. He could tell something was wrong.

  “Nothing, Juan. Just trying to find a ride to work.”

  “Omari got the whip? That fool know you got to go to work. Call Dad,” he said, leaving out the door. As he opened the door, he waited for the normal response, “When hell freeze over. Yo’ daddy’s dead,” but it never came. Him and his sister knew their dad wasn’t dead, because when she got fucked up, she would tell them good things about him. And when she heard he was locked up, she’d allowed Sizemo to carry them to see him one time.

  “I don’t know, Juan. I might. I’m tired,” she said, not wanting to tell him she’d talked to him, just in case he didn’t show.

  “Sound good, Ma. He said he was coming home to a different life when he was locked up.”

  “That’s prison talk. Your dad is a hustler. It’s in him through and through,” she said seriously.

  “See ya later, Ma,” he said, closing the door.

  “Love ya, baby.” Joy picked up her phone. “Hello?”

  “What up, girl? Better hype your ass up this morning.” Sizemo laughed. He didn’t get the response he thought he would.

  “I’m okay,” she said sadly.

  “No, you not. What’s up?” he asked sternly.

  “Lost my car, Sizemo. Muthafucka took my car.”

  “My people thought you were getting shit straight. Actually, I thought you had it straight.”

  “Why would you think that?” she asked, wondering how he could have come up with that.

  “When you talk to a boss for a half an hour on the phone, all your problems should be over. Ain’t that right, baby?” he asked, directing his question to his girl Kamrin, but talking to Joy.

  “Yeah, right!” Kam said, not paying him much attention.

  “Oh, you ain’t straight, girl?” he yelled at Kam.

  “Yeah, I’m straight, nigga, because I carry my ass to work every day. I don’t know who you trying to front on. If you boss, nigga, let me take the rest of the week off. You got me? Huh? You got me?” she repeated. “Thought so. You took too long.”

  “Shut the hell up! You know what it is,” Sizemo said.

  “No, I don’t, but you can tell me later. I don’t want to hear that shit now,” Kamrin said.

  “So how you getting to work?” he asked Joy.

  “Shit, I’m gonna have to take a day. Not good, but . . .”

  “Me and my girl on the way to the gym, but I got you,” he said. “Where you at?”

  Joy gave him directions. She was outside when he arrived.

  “Thanks, son,” she said, climbing in the back.

  “Joy, you remember Kamrin?”

  “Nice to meet you again. How are you?”

  “Not good. I’m trying to calm down. My shit was fucked up, so I got my car in my dude name. He put up the fifteen hundred, but I been paying for it, and keeping it up. He got mad and took my shit while I was ’sleep.”

  “He ain’t mad, girl, he hurt,” Kamrin said.

  “Like I told you yesterday, get your shit right and make sure you can always hold your own shit down. Joy, we go back how many years?”

  “About fourteen years, son. When you were out here destroying niggas, when you were a beast, when all this was solid,”
she said, reaching up front, hitting his chest.

  “My teddy bear wa’n’t no beast. He’s soft.” Kamrin rubbed his stomach.

  “She don’t know about that life, Joy,” Sizemo said. “My point was, as a friend, I’m telling you, get your shit right, and don’t depend on a muthafuckin’ soul. Not your man, not your family. Depend on yourself, do for self, and you won’t never find yourself fucked up. A true friend that come one hundred all the time is hard, real hard, to find.”

  “You don’t have to tell me. I’ve been through it, and this is a lesson well learned. My mom tried to tell me, but I didn’t listen, but I came to learn,” she said as they reached her job.

  “You good?” Sizemo asked.

  “Thanks, son. Really appreciate it,” Joy said. “And it was nice meeting you again,” she said to Kamrin.

  “Same here. Hope to see you again.” Kamrin was feeling funny that Sizemo would cut her off from talking about who he used to be. She actually hated the fact that he had a friend who knew more about her man than she did.

  “So what’s on your mind?” Sizemo asked as they headed to the gym. “You ain’t saying shit.”

  “Nothing. I’m good.”

  “Keep it one hundred, baby. That’s how our shit stay good.”

  “I don’t like other bitches knowing more about my dude than me. You say she’s Minke girl. You talk about her like she your ex, and she know you, really know you. I need to know you, not just what you show me,” she said, looking straight at him.

  “You know me and Minke history. She been around since the beginning. I’ve always been the nigga to hold shit down in his or Hitler absence. I took care of everything and even his family. We been tight for a long time. Me and Joy spent a lot of time smoking, hanging out, and taking care of certain shit. We had to put trust in each other, and when Hitler got killed and Minke pulled me in closer, all three of us got closer. Then something happened between him and Joy. He started running around and doing shit I had never seen him do—fucking with bitches, staying out of town a lot—and she leaned on me. Many days she sat in my house, chilling, smoking, and she would be hurting, crying, but trying to get through it. She leaned on me a lot, but I always respected my man and kept mad respect for her.”

  “So you never fucked her? Things happen late at night, especially when a girl is hurting and vulnerable,” Kamrin said, knowing she’d been through similar shit.

  “Naw, it never went there. I was just there for her,” he said nonchalantly.

  “I don’t know, Sizemo. I would think something might have happened. I know Minke. Can you tell me he never thought shit might be going on? He never questioned that shit?” Kamrin smiled.

  “Yeah, he did. And one day I told him, ‘Man, I’m mad close to her too, and I wa’n’t gonna turn my back on her for nothing because wa’n’t nothing going on. But when they broke up for real and he exed her out of his life for good, he told me why, and he told me that if I wanted to keep getting this money with him, he had to know that me and him was one hundred, and he didn’t want to feel or think a certain way over his wife. So he said I had to make a choice,” Sizemo said, looking at her. “And I tell you the same thing I told him then, ‘She is a friend, and I don’t look at her like that,’” he quoted seriously. “We stopped talking for years, but we still cool. Actually, it was good to see her.”

  “Okay, I got to take your word. Like you say, nigga always keep it one hundred. You got no reason to lie to me. You have no reason,” she said.

  Sizemo walked in the gym, knowing Joy was going to trip off this shit later.

  Joy’s day turned out quite well. Omari still hadn’t answered the phone, but there was a lady she had befriended at work, and she was gonna find out just how much of a friend she’d become. Joy had told her about her situation, and she had offered to take her home and pick her up the following morning, but Joy had to roll to Luxury Brown for the afterwork party. Joy agreed, and to her surprise, they had male dancers performing, something she wasn’t really into. She called Malaina and Lady, not knowing if they were going to show up.

  She was having a nice time with Kim and some of the other girls from work, but when her girls walked in, her spirits escalated to the next level. And the party began as soon as Malaina ordered a round for them as she approached the table.

  “Let’s get it in, girl. Order up,” she told Joy, Kim, and Lady.

  “Malaina, this is Kim and Lady,” Joy introduced.

  “What up? Tell the waitress what y’all want. I got first round,” Malaina said cheerfully.

  “Patrón,” Joy said.

  “Eighteen hundred,” Malaina said.

  “Hennessy,” Kim said.

  “Make that two Hennessys,” Lady said, and the foursome was set off.

  By the third round and the last dancer, the girls were up, hyped, and talking mad shit.

  “How much was that last round, girl?” Lady asked Kim.

  “Thirty-six.”

  Lady peeled off two twenties and a five to slide on the tray as the waitress walked up. “Here we go,” Lady said as everyone grabbed their drink.

  “Why those niggas keep coming over here dancing in front of Kim?” Joy yelled. “Is it because she sliding them niggas fives?” She laughed and gave Malaina a high-five.

  “Shit! Them niggas like those big-ass titties. Thought my shits were big,” Malaina said.

  They all laughed.

  “Big titties and that beautiful-ass face. Girl, you are what niggas call gorgeous,” Lady said smiling as they watched the next dancer come to the stage.

  “Niggas can eat some of this gorgeous pussy. Wrap these fat-ass thighs around his muthafuckin’ neck.” Kim high-fived Lady.

  “Now inhale that clit and breathe,” Lady added, laughing.

  They all fell out, the liquor taking control.

  “Bitch-ass nigga!” Joy said, keeping the laughter going.

  Lady looked over at Kim in her khaki-colored fitted Chanel skirt, cream open-toe Chanel sandals with four-inch heels, and the cream, silk see-through blouse that showed her cream-colored bra that set her forty-DD’s up and out. Lady smiled, her eyes going from her breasts to her light, flawless skin, small lips, high cheekbones, slanted eyes, and the long, silky black hair that came from her mixed background. Lady took in the whole package as Gee XXL danced in front of her. She had a belly and no ass, but her total package demanded attention because she came across as a big, beautiful, classy diva.

  As Gee XXL made his way to the next table, Lady said loud enough for her girls to hear, “Carry your gay ass.”

  “Is he gay, girl?” Malaina asked.

  “That first nigga was his man. Seen them niggas together at a couple parties, one of the gay niggas in the shop has. That probably ain’t all his dick,” she added.

  “The hell, it ain’t. I gave him some pussy after he ate this one night about two months ago. Nigga got about ten inches of dick that wouldn’t stay hard. He told me it was because he don’t like condoms. I ain’t give a fuck. I pushed the Magnum on and pushed that semi-hard dick in my pussy. I was wet as hell. Had a good time. But he ain’t never call back, and I didn’t care. On to the next one.” Kim slapped high-five with Malaina, who was all in her mouth.

  Joy looked at her like she was surprised.

  “Shit, I work hard and I play hard. Who stroke that gee a month for that fly-ass condo? Me! Who stroke that check for that new AC? Me! Fuck these niggas! They can eat my pussy and suck my ass then carry they ass. I’m done!” she said, dancing around.

  “Heard that shit. I ain’t got my own shit, but y’all and this shit here just became part of my getaway. My friend supposed to be coming up here later,” Malaina said.

  “Who?” Joy asked, looking at her.

  “Fat Boy, Reese partner,” Malaina said as they looked on.

  “You still talk to him?” Joy asked, surprised.

  “Please. That’s my dude. That nigga funny. He always got trees, and we fuck anywhere. In
the car, his cousin crib, momma house, daddy house, backyard, garage, closet. That nigga off the chain.” Malaina was shaking her head, smiling.

  “Bitch, I gots to be comfortable,” Lady said. “Get a room, nigga.”

  The other girls agreed.

  “Shit, I ain’t got all that time. Give me mine, so I can go home to my husband and carry my ass to sleep,” she said laughing.

  They all finished their drinks and looked at Joy.

  She told them, “I ain’t got shit in this purse, but condoms for a good piece,” and they all broke out laughing.

  “Bring another round,” Malaina told their waitress. “Shit! I ain’t had no real fun in a minute.”

  “For real. Whoa!” Kim yelled as the slow music came flowing through the speakers and the lights went low.

  The women who had been there before knew it was the last dance of the night and they always saved the best for last. As the smoke cleared across the dance floor, the voice over the music announced Big Booby. The waitress sitting the drinks on the table broke their concentration long enough for Lady to throw a twenty on the table, followed by Malaina’s twenty. Then Kim tossed one of the tens she had in her hand for Big Booby, got her drink, and everyone’s focus went back to Booby.

  Booby stood in place, with his head down and the blue fitted pulled low. He wore no shirt, allowing his 220 pounds of pure muscle to be admired by the women in the club. His smooth, dark skin was making the women melt. He lifted his head and took off his hat and threw it on the table where Joy and them sat, allowing the women to look at his shiny baldy and the perfectly trimmed goatee that surrounded the bright smile he flashed only for a second, and the ladies began to scream.

  Booby stomped his way forward to one of the tables and began to move his body in a seductive motion, letting his jeans slide off his hips a little more. Then he grabbed them and stomped the Timbs across to the other side for another set of ladies. He gyrated his hips and threw his leg on the table, putting his pelvic region in the lady’s face and pumping. The woman’s screams escalated, and the money rained. He held his left leg out, his Timbs in the air, and the lady snatched off his boot. Then he stepped back, and the right leg went straight out. He held his balance, showing his coordination skills, as the other lady snatched off his other boot.