4
Renee
We ate, drank, then made plans to meet over the weekend to start planning the wedding. I headed home and glanced down at my phone, and John's number flashed on the screen. “Die, bitch!” I screamed. What the hell did he want? As usual, I let it go to voice mail.
I'd be lying if I didn't admit to being scared. Hell, after years of fucking around on my husband, then wondering what the hell I was thinking when I agreed to marry him in the first place, here I was finally free and I was scared shitless. Now don't get me wrong. The last thing I needed was to be married to a booty bandit. Nevertheless, here I was at thirty-eight, starting over and nervous about failing my children. I'm a failure at love. After three husbands, I just wasn't in a rush to go down that road again. Mario was my high school sweetheart; we lasted long enough to conceive two kids. The second one was military. I was married to Troy six months before I discovered his stupid ass was also married to someone else. And then there's John. Other than the legal formalities, as far as I was concerned, he and I were through. But his calling me was just making matters worse. I wanted to move on and start a new life, but his punk ass just wasn't willing to let me do that.
After I caught John and Shemar together, he moved into an apartment while I stayed in the house long enough to sell it. John tried to reconcile, but my attitude was we didn't have shit to talk about except how to split the money.
When I moved back to Missouri, I purchased a three-bedroom house on the north side of town. Smaller than I was used to, but it was all mine and I didn't have to share it with some booty-bandit mothafucka. Hell, my ass is even working a part-time administrative job on campus. Having a job took some getting used to, but at least I have the flexibility to work on my erotic novels when there isn't shit else to do in the office, and I like that. Which reminds me, I have a book due in three months and need to put some fire under my butt if I'm going to meet my deadline.
I turned onto my street and noticed a black woman was standing off to the side waving her hands frantically in the air. I pulled up beside her and rolled down my window.
“Sistah, can you help me?”
I took in her Goodwill wardrobe and the slobber running down the side of her mouth. Her eyes were as yellow as her teeth. Ugh! I leaned back in the seat. That bitch better not slobber on my Lexus. “Help you with what?” I tried to focus on her eyes and not her mouth, but that wasn't easy to do.
“I don't get my food stamps until Friday and need some money to get some vegetables.”
She looked like she was ready for her next crack fix. “Sorry, I don't have any money. I'm trying to hang on until payday.”
“Okay.”
I was amazed at how easily she gave up. Anyone on drugs would have kept begging and pleading until I either cussed their ass out or gave in. Instead, she turned and walked up the gravel driveway to a raggedy duplex that looked like it had seen better days. I drove off feeling guilty because I had almost fifty dollars in my purse and enough in my checking account that I could have spared five dollars. But I knew that she would be like a stray dog. Once you gave her something, her ass would keep coming back.
Even though I drove off, she was heavy on my mind. I don't know, but something in her eyes reminded me of my mother. Bernice Brown was bipolar with a crack habit. I haven't seen her since Tamara was five. We were all at Big Mama's house having Christmas dinner when my mother came waltzing in drunk and smelling like a skunk. Mom had been MIA for the last six months. My aunts and uncles all acted like it was every day she came in carrying a half-eaten sweet potato pie. My older sister Lisa and I stopped eating and glanced at one another. Mama was in rare form that day. Singing, laughing, talking loud, obviously she had stopped taking her meds. Big Mama refused to believe anything was wrong with her daughter and moved to the kitchen to fix her a plate. After dinner, Mama disappeared again.
It had been a pattern since we were teenagers. One day we came home from school and found a note on the door that said she went to Washington, DC, to find work. It was two months before she returned, and by then my stepfather had come down to take Lisa and my younger brother Andre back to Chicago to live with him. Paul never liked me, so I wasn't invited to go. I stayed in the house until all the utilities were turned off, then moved in with my kids' daddy, who was jealous and possessive. I put up with him for four years. Then when he started trying to beat me upside my head, I decided it was time to go before I spent the next twenty years behind bars for murdering his ass. That was a lonely time in my life. My mama gone, Lisa and Andre far away. My stepfather never cared for me and rarely let me see my brother and sister and screened my calls. I heard him once say he didn't like me because “she acts like her damn daddy.” I found that ironic since I didn't even know my real daddy. He had been murdered when I was too young to remember.
Our relationship has been strained ever since, and while Lisa was alive she did everything she could to try to bring me and my stepfather together. Even when she was struggling with ovarian cancer, she made me promise to reach out to Paul and I tried, for Lisa, but now that she's gone, I wrote him off like a bad debt. As far as I was concerned, I couldn't care less if I ever saw either of my parents again. Although it would be nice to at least know that my mother was okay.
I pulled into the garage then stepped into the house where my kids were sitting at the dining room table playing a game of Monopoly.
My sixteen-year-old daughter, Tamara, sprung from the chair. “Mama, you ready to go driving?”
I rolled my eyes. I've been slowly teaching Tamara how to drive, but after she ran my car through the garage door two weeks ago, I don't think my nerves could take it. “Tomorrow. I've been out drinking.”
She turned her nose up at me. “You're always getting drunk.”
“Girl, be quiet. I ain't had a drink all week.” I'll admit I've been drinking a lot more lately. Shit, I'm stressed. But what the fuck? I'm married to a fag.
I looked over at my tall eighteen-year-old son, who was probably stealing money from the bank while Tamara's back was turned. “Quinton, I thought you were working tonight.”
“I was, but it was slow so they sent some of us home.” He worked at Popeyes Chicken.
I shrugged, grabbed my mail from the table, and let them get back to their game.
“Mama, John called my cell phone looking for you!” Tamara called after me.
Ugh! I wish that booty bandit would leave me alone. I fell back on my bed with a scowl and stared up at the ceiling fan above me. What I needed was some dick. It was time for a girls' night out.
5
Danielle
I spent Friday evening arguing on the phone with Mama. It's been five months and nothing has changed. I still can't understand how she could take sides with Portia when it was clear who was in the wrong. Is Mama not understanding what she did? My daughter had lied about sleeping with my boyfriend and had pretty much ruined my life. No, she can't come back and live with me. Is she crazy? That would be like Portia getting her way. As far as I'm concerned, she can just keep on staying with her daddy.
As promised, Alvin filed rape charges, and just as I had been trying to tell his dumb ass all along, Portia waited until the day before the case was to go to trial to admit she had been lying.
Told you so!
Ron was released, which was a good thing. I was all prepared to testify on his behalf even though he doesn't want to have anything to do with me.
My friends think I'm stupid for turning my back on my daughter, but I don't agree. Portia's lies caused me to lose my soul mate. I would do anything to have him back. Really. If Ron called and told me he'd take me back, I would have him. I know he isn't perfect, but Ron is everything I love in a man. A thug to his heart. He knows the streets, and let's not forget the brotha is no joke in bed. Sure, he had a bunch of kids, and bitches be calling me at all hours of the night. I dealt with the BS because I believed my man was worth it. The only reason we weren't still together was because my daughter had described my man's dick. Not too many brothas running around uncircumcised, but Ron was one of the few. Not that it affected his performance in any way.
The last five months have been miserable. I feel lost without him. Even though I have a new man in my life, all I think about is getting back with him. I've left him messages. Dropped by his mother's house, but he never responds to any of my advances. I know after five months it's time for me to try and move on, but it's hard.
I reached in the back of my closet looking for something to wear. I hadn't been out in months and it was definitely time for me to get out of the house. With Ron and Portia both gone, unless I was spending time with Calvin, I was usually bored and lonely. Yep, I was definitely ready to get a drink. Who knows, maybe I'll meet someone new tonight to take Ron off my mind.
Yeah, right.
In a small town like Columbia, Missouri, there wasn't anyone worth meeting because chances were they had already gone through half the skanks in town. And after my breakup with Ron, I wasn't sure if I was ready to handle another thug just yet. Right now I needed a dependable, no-stress relationship, and that was Calvin.
Speaking of Calvin
. . . I glanced over at the clock. He was prompt and should be calling just about . . . now. I reached over and grabbed the phone before the second ring.
“Hello, may I please speak to Danielle?”
I rolled my eyes. He knew good and damn well I was the only one living in the house. I didn't know why he always tried to act all professional and shit. Sometimes it pissed me off so much.
“Hey, Calvin. How's the conference?”
“Long and boring.” He's a university police officer and was in California attending a CSI training seminar. “I can't wait to get back and hold you.”
I smiled. “Me either.”
“What do you have planned this weekend?”
“Me and the girls are going out tonight.”
“Don't have too much fun,” he warned with laughter in his voice.
“I won't. Are you doing anything fun tonight?”
“Me and a couple of the boys are going out and Regina's tagging along.”
I chuckled. Regina was the new administrative assistant in the department and had a mad crush on Calvin. “Maybe I need to be worried about you being in Cali with another woman,” I teased.
“Sweetheart, you don't have to worry. There's only one woman for me.” His voice sounded sexy as hell. “I can't wait to get back on Sunday. I hope you're ready.”
“Ready for what?” I asked as if I didn't already know.
“You know what.”
I chuckled. “I'll be ready.”
“Good. I'll call you tomorrow, love.”
“Okay.”
Calvin was such a nice guy. And so faithful that I never had to worry about him messing around. Regina didn't have a chance in hell of taking my man from me. Damn, if only I could love him the way he deserved. We've been together over six months and I'm crazy about him and the sex is good, but my feelings for him are nothing like what I felt for Ron. If I could feel like that with Calvin, I would have the perfect man. I wanted that heart-stopping, can't-be-without-my-man feeling that I used to have. I like a man who knows the streets and doesn't have a problem telling me what he wants in and out of bed. I'm not sure if anything other than a thug would ever do. Some people saw it as a problem. I saw it as simply having a preference.
6
Renee
Tonight was not at all like I had planned. Kayla didn't want to go out because she was going to spend the evening with her fiancé, and Nadine and Jordan were too busy making baby plans. What the fuck! Couldn't either of them put their lovers aside for just one night so that the four of us could hang out for old times' sake, but
noooo,
and I had to go out with Danielle by my damn self. I knew the minute I told her the other two weren't going what club she was going to pick.
Athena's.
I can't stand that place, but without my cheering team to back me up, it was either go with her or go out by myself.
It was after eleven when I stepped through the doors, and immediately I felt like I had just stepped inside Chuck E. Cheese's. Nothing but a bunch of goddamn kids. What the fuck? That's what happens when you live in a college town. Students were back after a three-day weekend, and everyone was out trying to get their drink on. I walked in, late of course. Danielle had paged me an hour ago to tell me she was heading over early so she could get a table. So she was in here somewhere.
I strolled in wearing a long-sleeved blue-jean jumpsuit and four-inch gold platform shoes. I'll admit the music was jumping and people were everywhere. I could barely get through the door. As I moved around the room looking for Danny, I saw a few cuties looking my way and even smiled at one until I noticed the sweatshirt he was wearing said
RBHS Class of 2005.
Rockbridge High School. What the hell? He was nothing but jail bait.
I pushed my way through the crowd looking for Danielle. I don't know why her ass couldn't have just waited until I had got ready so we could have came together. It's bad enough I even have to be in this mothafucka.
Moving through the crowd, I passed a group of girls who barely looked sixteen. The shit they were wearing was downright nastyâskirts that if they bent over showed all their
assets
and bras they were trying to pass off as shirts. One girl had rolls around her stomach and was running around with a bra that was at least two sizes too small. If that had been Tamara, I would have snatched her ass off that dance floor and taken her home.
I slowly made it around the building. All anyone did in this place was walk around in a fucking circle and try to be seen. I just wasn't in the mood.
I managed to get around a fat chick and made my way over to the bar. I slid onto a bar stool and while I waited for the bartender, I rocked my hips to the beat of the music. 50 Cent was putting it down with his new single. I loved that song, and from the looks of it so did several others. A tall, skinny bartender came and took my order, then came back with my apple martini. I took a sip. Delicious. I tossed another dollar on the counter.
Glancing across the bar, I caught a dark-skinned brotha trying to get my attention.
What the fuck ever
. His ass was busted and definitely too damn old to be in a place like this. He was definitely somebody's grandpa. I rolled my eyes, to make sure he got it loud and clear that I wasn't the least bit interested in his tired-looking ass.
I was taking a sip when I felt a tap on the shoulder. I glanced over and my mouth dropped.
“Oh my God, Landon!” I swung around and gave him a hug. “When you move back?”
He smiled and appeared pleased that I noticed he'd been gone. In a town this small, who the hell wouldn't.
“I've been back from Germany almost five months.”
“You still in the military?”
He shook his head and said with pride, “Retired army.”
I nodded and took in everything he had to offer, and that was a whole helluva lot. Landon had been one of those misfit kids in school who always seemed to hang with the girls. He didn't act gay and shit, just one of the girls. Senior year, he started dating Tonja's ass and she had his nose so wide open, he followed her around like a lost puppy. A week before graduation, she dumped him and next thing I heard, right after graduation, he had joined the military. Over the years I had seen him from time to time, but this was the first in two decades we had a chance to strike up a conversation. I'm glad I came out. 'Cause Landon was finer than a mothafucka!
He was wearing a typical military cut. Hair was higher on the top than the side but low just the same. A navy blue turtleneck emphasized every muscle in his chest and his arms. His jeans were loose but not enough to hide his massive thighs. White sneakers set off the look.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. “Trying to catch a case with the jail bait in here?”
He frowned. “Nah, Hodges dragged me in here with him.”
I nodded knowingly and followed the direction of his eyes to his boy standing at the other end of the bar trying to spit at one of those young-looking girls. Hodges was one of those who refused to admit his ass was hitting fifty.
Landon grinned. “I should be asking what you're doing in here.”
“I'm meeting Danny.”
He chuckled and I joined in. He knew my girl's taste for young thugs as well as I did.
“Have you seen her?”
He pointed to the back of the room. “She's sitting over there.”
We stood there staring at each other like two damn fools. I could have continued, but the last thing I wanted was for him to know just how attracted I was to him. I don't run after men. I like to be chased. “Thanks. I'll holla at you later.”
“You do that. Save me a dance.”
I reached for my drink, then turned and walked away. At least something good was coming out of this night. I moved to where Danielle was sitting. She was wearing this cute Rocawear jean outfit she bought while we were in St. Louis shopping last week.
There were only two chairs at her table, and neither was empty.
“Hey, whassup?” I asked with my eyebrow raised as I looked down at Mavis's crackheaded ass sitting across from her.
“Whassup, Renee?” she asked as she rose out of my seat. “You got five dollars?”
I backed up and raised a finger to my nose because I could smell her breath from where I was standing. “Yeah, here.” I reached inside my pocket and slipped off a five. Anything to get her ass away from me. She didn't even bother to say bye as she dashed off into the crowd. “Ugh! What you doing talking to her?”
“Girl, you know her ass is a booster. She's going to come by my house tomorrow with some new DVDs that just came out.”
“Oh, well, if she's got anything good, hook me up.”
Danielle nodded, reached for her drink, and took a sip.
“Guess who I saw coming in?”
“Who?” she asked.
“Landon.”
Danielle's eyes widened. “Landon Lawson? Hell nah! I heard he was back.”
“Yep, and he looked good as hell.”
She gave me that look that said
I know something you don't
. “Girl, you know he's been messing with Leslie's wide ass since he's got back.”
She had my attention. “Leslie who?”
She smirked and reached for her drink. “Leslie Harris.”
My eyes grew large. “Hell nah.”
She sucked her teeth. “Yep, but I heard she started stalking his ass, so he quit fooling wit her.”
Leslie came out of high school a year ahead of us and was one of those that I never cared much for. She spent too much time in the club getting drunk instead of home taking care of her three kids. I heard she didn't like me. Why, I don't know, and really couldn't care less.
“I saw her in here earlier, so don't let her see you talking to her man.”
“Fuck Leslie's ass.”
“All right, don't say I didn't warn you,” she teased.
I pursed my lips and swung around in my chair. Danielle knew I wasn't scared of that ho. One thing I don't do is back down.
While sipping my drink, I waved at people I knew as they moved around the building. Like I said, the place is one big circle, so at some point everyone came around at least once. Sure enough I saw Landon, and shortly after Leslie was coming up behind him. I shook my head. One thing Renee doesn't do is sniff after a brotha. When it's over, it's over. If we decide we want to fuck after that then it's a mutual decision. But I'll be damned if I ever stalk a mothafucka that doesn't want me.
“Danielle, look.”
I pointed to the bottom of Leslie's boot. She was dragging a long piece of toilet paper. We both fell out laughing.
I sat there for the longest time watching Leslie watch Landon. What Leslie needed to do was go home and change her damn clothes. I don't know why fat people always feel they have to throw on a miniskirt, especially when their thigh is wider than their waist.
Danielle lightly kicked my leg underneath the table. “Nae-Nae, here comes David.”
David Lavell. Short, chocolate mothafucka and one of Columbia Police Department's finest. He looked fabulous in dark slacks and a white polo shirt and white sneakers. But then he looked good in anything he wore. He had a body made for clothes. I tried to give him some last year, but his crazy-ass wife came banging on the door of our hotel room. If I had gotten some before she had interrupted maybe I wouldn't still be angry.
“Whassup, Renee?” He gave me his devilish smile and held out a hand. “Come dance with me.”
I shook my head. “Hell nah! So your wife can come over and start trippin'? I don't think so.”
“She's not here and if she was, she wouldn't trip about me dancing with a friend.”
Before I could object further, he took my drink out of my hand, placed it on the table, and led me out onto the dance floor. The music had slowed down to Fantasia's new cut. I allowed David to pull me in his arms. I ain't gonna lie, the married mothafucka smelled good as hell.
He brushed his lips against my ear. “You know I regret what went down with us.”
“No, you don't, 'cause if you did, you wouldn't have gotten me in that mess in the first place.” I leaned back so he could see my eyes as I spoke. “How could you set my ass up like that?”
“I didn't mean to. Really,” he pleaded.
“Yeah, you just forgot you and her were together,” I replied sarcastically.
“Nah, I just was pissed at her.”
“And you tried to use me to get back at her?”
He offered me an apologetic smile. “Something like that.”
Laughing, I shook my head, then rested it on his shoulder again. That was something I would have done, so I guess I couldn't be too mad as long as that shit never happened again.
“So you want to go to the hotel after we leave here so I can tap that ass for real this time?”
“David, shut the hell up!”
He tossed his head back with laughter. “You know I can't help myself when it comes to you. Renee, you fine as hell.”
True that, but I wasn't even going to go there with his married ass. One thing Renee Moore doesn't do is intentionally mess with someone else's husband. Your man, yes. Your husband, no. Even though I don't attend church on a regular basis, I know that there is a God up there in heaven and if He says do not to be drooling over someone else's husband, then I know better than to disobey Him. Adultery is a sin, which I have been committing for years on my husband, but that situation was different and as far as I was concerned didn't count. But I never ever mess with someone else's husband. I didn't like that shit when I caught my husband in bed with another man, so I wouldn't want to see anyone else have to go through that kind of shock, ever.
We danced two songs before I looked over to see Landon. He was leaned up against the bar flirting with some female. As soon as he spotted me, he whispered something in her ear, then headed my way. With his eyes, he asked me to dance. I thanked David, who didn't look too happy, and moved toward Landon, who wrapped his arms around my middle. Together, we moved to the beat of the music, neither of us saying anything. I closed my eyes and got caught up in the moment.
“Your body feels so good next to mine.”
That shit was corny, but for his fine ass I'm going to let that pass.
“You feel good, too.”
“Here we are twenty years later. Who would have ever guessed we'd be attracted to each other?”
I chuckled at his confidence. It was something the old Landon never had. “Who would have ever guessed?”
“Ima keep it real, I have always been attracted to you, even back then.”
“Really?” I said like I didn't already know.
“Yep. I was such a cornball back then. Highwater pants, thick glasses.”
“Yep.” I laughed.
“I knew back then there was no way I could step to you without having you laughing in my face.”