Christmas in the Hood (3 page)

She bounced from her knees, disappeared into the bathroom, and came back with a towel, which she threw to Blue, who was now in a fetal position.

“Damn, girl, that was the best head I ever had.”

“Really?”

“Hell, yeah.”

“Why don’t you give me a bonus then?”

He laughed. “Shortie, you got game and personality. I like you a lot.”

Shante was happy she’d pleased him. She wondered what life would be like with a rapper as a boyfriend.

“So Blue, why don’t you wanna be nobody’s man?”

Blue sat up on the bed. “Just don’t have time for it. You know with relationships come expectations, and I don’t have time for that shit. I like to just chill.”

“And buy pussy?”

He looked troubled. “I don’t know. My life ain’t all what it’s cracked up to be. I’d rather just make a deal for sex than have somebody who really only wanted me for my paper pretend they like me.”

Shante was confused.“So paying for booty works out good for you?”

“You better believe it.” He smiled, revealing his gold-and-diamond grill.

“I see,” she said, disappointed, as her dreams of being with a famous rapper disappeared.

After she put her clothes back on, Blue gave Shante her money and kissed her on the cheek.

When Shante got home, the babysitter was asleep on the sofa, and the kids were sleeping on the pullout couch. She kissed her son on the cheek and picked up her little girl. She walked the kids to their bedrooms and tucked them in then hopped in the shower. She couldn’t stop thinking about Blue and wondered
why it was so easy for him to have sex without attachments. It didn’t feel good tricking for cash—even if it was for a good cause: her kids. She felt hopeless and foolish for giving up the jewels to a total stranger, someone who didn’t give a damn about her. Though she’d known that it was only business between her and Blue and that she hadn’t known him but for a few hours, she had developed a liking for him. She wished he had seen something in her that had made him want to stick around.

*  *  *

When Big Mike came over he noticed all the gifts under the Christmas tree.

“I see you doing okay for yourself.”

Shante smiled. “Yes, I got my kids their own shit.”

“How’d you do that?” Mike asked, still looking at the gifts.

“The club’s been busy.”

“That means you won’t need my money then, right?”

“Whatever, nigga. You know I need help. I am a single parent, remember?”

“I know. You get them the computer and PlayStation like you said?”

She rubbed his chest. “Yes, and some other things, too.”

“Cool, cool,” he said. “Are the kids asleep?”

“If they weren’t sleep, do you think you would be here?”

“That’s what I like about you: you always put your kids first.”

“No, this is what you like about me.” She rubbed her ass against him.

“You damn right.” He smiled again, revealing that country-assed gold tooth.

She kissed him, and he held her. She felt so safe in his arms. He
was so big and lovable, she felt that he could protect her from the world. He began to unbutton her blouse.

She buttoned it back up. “Let’s just hold each other, Mike.”

“What?”

“I just like you being here with me. Do we always have to have sex?”

“I guess not.”

“Let’s just comfort each other.”

Mike looked at her strangely. “Comfort each other?”

She pushed him away and began to cry.

He leaned toward her. “What’s wrong now?”

“Nothing.”

Mike sat on the sofa. “I swear, women are so damned emotional.”

Shante continued to cry. Though she had been able to buy the gifts for her kids, she didn’t have a man to share Christmas with. Every year at this time, she’d get sad. She’d see families and wish she had someone to spend Christmas with her and her children.

Mike got down on one knee. “Baby, tell me what’s wrong?”

She looked him in his eyes. “Have you ever felt like you have nobody?”

Mike look confused and didn’t answer.

“See, you don’t understand.”

He put his arms around her. “You have me.”

She smiled. “If I have you, Mike, just hold me then, no sex. I just want to be held.”

He put his arms around her and held her tightly.

It was three a.m. when Shante woke up and found that Mike was gone. She walked into the living room to see if the door was locked. Finally, she turned toward the Christmas tree to make sure the lights were out.

All of her gifts were gone.

She looked around. This had to be a mistake, she thought. Her gifts had to be there. Maybe Mike put them in the closet for some reason? She checked. The closet was empty. They weren’t in the kitchen, nor in the kids’ room. What the hell was going on? She dialed Mike’s cell phone number. He didn’t pick up, which wasn’t like him at all. He almost always picked up. She called him three more times, but there was no answer.

Shante threw her phone across the room as she realized that Big Mike had stolen the presents. But he had done more than that. She had wanted so much to trust him, to believe that there might be something there. And not only did he steal from her, he stole from her children as well. What in the hell was she going to do now?

*  *  *

Officer Tillman, a tall black man, asked Shante, “Can you describe this man you call Big Mike?”

Tears ran down Shante’s face, and she could barely talk. “He was big and burly, about two hundred fifty pounds, with a gold tooth.”

A lanky white officer with a name tag that read Diehl scribbled on a notepad. “How tall was he?”

“Six three, maybe six four.”

Diehl looked at Shante with serious eyes. “Was he your boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Your lover?”

Embarrassed, Shante looked up at the ceiling. She wanted to wake up to find that all this was just a bad dream, but it wasn’t. How could she have been such a bad judge of character?

Tillman asked again. “Was he your lover?”

The tears came pouring down her face, leaving a trail. “I guess you could say that.”

“So where does he live?” Tillman asked.

“I don’t know.”

“You’ve never been to his house?” Diehl asked. “No.”

“Where does he work?”

“I don’t know.”

“How long did you know him?” Diehl asked.

“About a month.” Shante knew she sounded stupid. She felt it. Diehl looked surprised. “And you brought him home with your kids?”

“Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but he seemed like a nice guy.”

“Where did you and Big Mike meet?” Tillman asked.

“The 7-Eleven. He offered to pump my gas.”

The two officers exchanged looks.

“I can see why he wins the Humanitarian of the Year Award,” Diehl quipped.

“You shut the fuck up,” Shante shouted angrily. “I don’t need to be judged by you.”

Diehl stopped scribbling. “Ma’am, I’m sorry.”

“Do you know his last name?” Tillman probed.

Shante looked in the air as she tried to remember if he had ever told her.

“Think hard,” the officer said. “I can’t recall.”

“What does he drive?”

“A Benz.”

“A Benz?” Diehl said.

“I know. That’s why I didn’t think he would do something like this,” Shante said.

“Just ’cause he drives it doesn’t mean it’s his,” Tillman said. Someone called Diehl on the radio, and seconds later Shante’s kids came running into the living room.

“Mama, what’s wrong?” Makayla asked.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Where are our Christmas presents?” her daughter asked.

She pulled the girl close but didn’t answer.

“Ma, did someone take the Christmas presents?”

“No, you know I wouldn’t let that happen,” Shante said, looking at the cops.

Chris started to cry. “Mama, where are the presents?”

“Santa has them,” Officer Tillman said.

“That’s right, Santa has them,” Diehl repeated.

Shante kissed both of her kids on the cheek and then wiped her son’s eyes with her shirt. “Take your brother into the room and let me finish talking to the officers.”

Makayla grabbed Chris’s hand and disappeared into the room.

When the kids were gone, Shante asked, “What am I going to do?”

Diehl shrugged his shoulders. “Try the Salvation Army.”

Tillman offered, “Angel Tree is another organization where you can get some help.”

Shante couldn’t believe this shit had happened to her, nor could she believe she had been so naive. How in the hell could she have been so stupid? And to think that she’d actually wanted him to move in and play daddy to her kids. The tears came again.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure my kids have a good Christmas,” she said aloud. “Even beg, if I have to.”

*  *  *

Shante swallowed her pride and called her kids’ father’s mother, who answered on the first ring. “Yeah, this is Janie.”

“Ms. Janie, this is Shante.”

“Yeah, I know. I saw your name on my caller ID. What do you want?”

“I need some help.”

“With what?”

Shante was tempted to hang up. She hated this bitch, but she knew the kids were depending on her to come up with Christmas gifts. “I need help with the kids’ Christmas gifts.”

“That’s your problem.”

The nerve of this bitch to be so cold.

“Where is your son?”

“I don’t know. I don’t keep up with my son.” Janie’s voice was harsh.

“Listen, Ms. Janie. I had the presents, but I was robbed.”

Janie smacked her teeth. “Yeah, right.”

Shante took a deep breath, realizing it was a lost cause.

“You’re a damn con artist,” the older woman continued, “and that’s all you will ever be. You conned my son into getting you pregnant, and now you have to pay the price.”

“So I put your son’s dick inside me, right?”

“You ruined his life. My son was in college until he met your tramp ass.”

“How in the hell did I ruin his life? Chris hasn’t given me shit for the kids in over two years.”

“He has a wife; he don’t have time for you.”

“Fuck you.”

“You just want him back!”

“I could care less about Chris.”

Chris was the first man who had ever told her she was attractive. Shante had always known she was sexy, but Chris had made her feel pretty. She had really wanted the relationship to work, but she soon found out she was just a piece of ass on the side. She stopped seeing him for a while, but she missed him so much she ended up going back to him and playing the other woman until the kids came. When he wasn’t there for her financially, she finally cut the relationship off.

Shante wanted to cry, but she would not let this bitch mother of his have the pleasure of breaking her spirit. She hung up the phone.

Shante was dressed extra-sexy. She wore hot pink spandex pants with the bottom out revealing a pink thong that made her ass look even rounder. She was going to make that money tonight even if it meant getting every customer off in the club. But the club was extremely slow tonight. There were only a few customers, and most were just sitting around not spending money. It was eleven o’clock when an older man with a graying beard and slacks pulled up above his navel walked in. Shante smiled at him. He blushed. He stood at the bar for a few moments, waiting for the soda he’d ordered. When his drink arrived, Shante walked over and smiled again.

The man extended his hand. “I’m John Long.”

“Shante.”

“So what’s up?”

“You tell me,” Shante said. “Are you looking for someone to kick it with? You know, have a good time?”

“What do I have to pay?” John asked.

Shante licked her lips and pouted them seductively. “Six hundred dollars for an hour.”

“Six hundred dollars is pretty expensive,” he said. “How about four hundred.”

Shante thought for a minute. She knew he was old and that a lot of times old guys had trouble cumming, so she might have to work extra hard. She couldn’t lower her price too much. “Five hundred.”

John opened his wallet, skimmed through his bills as if he were counting his money. Finally he agreed. They left the club an hour later.

*  *  *

Shante and John drove to a Ramada about a mile away from the club. As soon as they got into the room John smiled and touched her hair.

“No.”

John looked puzzled.

She looked into his eyes. “Don’t try to patronize me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, trying to hold back her tears, but she couldn’t contain herself. John dug into his wallet and pulled out five one-hundred-dollar bills and gave them to Shante.

“Thanks,” she said, looking confused. “What’s this for?”

“Nothing.”

“Why are you giving me money? I don’t understand.”

“Just consider it a blessing from the Lord. Merry Christmas,” John said.

“Merry Christmas to you, but I have never had this happen to me.”

“What?”

“I never had anybody just pay me for
not
having sex with them.”

“I’m different.”

“Are you?”

“So, tell me about yourself,” John said.

“I don’t know what to tell you…. I’m a dancer, and sometimes I sell sex.”

“I know that much, but what led you to dancing?”

“Well, I really don’t have any skills. I mean, I want to go back to school and all, but—”

“But what?”

“I have kids.”

“And?” His warm smile made Shante feel like opening up. She turned her head slightly, avoiding his eyes. “I mean, kids kind of make it hard to go back to school.”

“Excuses—everybody has them.”

She made eye contact with him. “So, John, what do you do.”

An awkward silence came over the room.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she said finally.

He looked into her eyes. “Shante, I’m a minister.”

Whoa.
What was this world coming to? “I see…. What church?”

“Bethel.”

“Yeah? You have a big congregation.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“I attended once.”

“So you’ve seen me?”

“No, they said the pastor was out of town for the week.”