I walked straight over to them. “Gimme my godbaby.”
Anastasia stood and met Malcolm and me halfway. She put Chantal in my arms and extended her hand to Malcolm. “You must be Malcolm. I’m Stacy.”
He shook her hand. “It’s a pleasure, Stacy.”
“Rhapsody has told me so much about you. Now I can finally put a face with the name.”
“Rhapsody talks about you too,” he confirmed.
The smile vanished from Stacy’s face. “Yeah, I bet she does. I can imagine what she says. Are y’all hungry?”
“I’m not,” I said, bouncing Chantal in my arms. She had gotten ahold of my beaded necklace.
“What about you, Malcolm?” Anastasia asked.
He shrugged his shoulders. “I could eat.”
Anastasia led us farther into the backyard, where rib tips, spaghetti, potato salad, macaroni salad, deviled eggs, chips, and baked beans were spread across a picnic table buffet style. She helped Malcolm make his plate, and I took Chantal and sat down at a card table with Anastasia’s aunt Margaret, her brother Darryl, and his wife, Sharlene.
“Hey, Miss Margaret,” I greeted.
“Hi, sugar. I asked Stacy if you were coming over today.”
“I had a late start this morning.”
“What’s up, girl? Long time no see,” Darryl said to me. He and I used to mess around back in the day, when we were in our early twenties. In fact, I had aborted a fetus at Darryl’s expense, one that he had helped plant inside me, when I was twenty-three years old. No one, absolutely no one, knew about Darryl and me. I had never even told Anastasia about the five-month-long affair I had had with her brother.
“Yeah, it’s been a while, Darryl.” I looked at his wife. “How’re you doing, Sharlene?”
“I’m doing good, Rhapsody. I like those chandelier earrings. I see they’re coming back in style.”
Just as she mentioned my earrings, Chantal let go of my necklace and grabbed my right one. I had to peel her fingers away one by one.
Margaret laughed. “That li’l girl is quick and as busy as she wants to be.”
Malcolm came over to the table with an overloaded plate. Chantal and I moved over when Anastasia brought an extra chair for him.
“Mama, Darryl, Sharlene, this is Malcolm. He’s Rhapsody’s date,” Anastasia announced.
Trevor had made me realize that Malcolm actually looked twenty-one years old. I was waiting for a stunned look to appear on everyone’s faces, but to my surprise, everyone was cool. I wondered if Anastasia had given them the heads-up before Malcolm and I arrived at the barbecue.
After Malcolm greeted everyone at the table, he looked at me. “You wanna eat with me?”
I glanced at the ribs and potato salad on his plate and felt my stomach turn. I shook my head from side to side. “No, baby. I’m not hungry.”
He leaned into me and whispered in my ear, “You need to eat somethin’.”
“I will in a little while, I promise.”
The patio door opened, and Anastasia’s nineteen-year-old cousin, Gabrielle, stepped out onto the deck, wearing red Daisy Dukes shorts and a red tube top that was stretched to the limit. Anastasia had mentioned that Gabrielle was home from college for the summer. I knew her to be a bona fide hoochie. As Gabrielle approached our table, I, along with everyone else, could see her black, round headlights through her top.
“Hey, y’all,” she greeted.
“Uh, Gabby, you couldn’t find anything else to wear today?” Margaret asked.
She looked down at her attire. “What’s wrong with what I got on, Auntie?”
“What’s right with it?” Darryl asked.
Gabrielle ignored Darryl and placed her eyeballs on Malcolm. “Hello.”
Malcolm was engrossed in his food. He looked up at her. “Hi.”
She smiled. “I’m Gabby.”
Malcolm laid his fork down on his plate and extended his hand to her. “I’m Malcolm. It’s nice to meet you.”
Gabrielle shook Malcolm’s hand but then held on to it and squeezed it. Malcolm withdrew his hand from her grasp and glanced at me.
“Hello, Gabrielle,” I said, pulling her eyes away from Malcolm’s bulging biceps.
She didn’t even look at me when she said, “Oh, hey, Rhapsody. So, um, Malcolm, are you a friend of Darryl’s?”
He swallowed his food like a gentleman before answering her. “Uh, nah. Uh, I’m here with Rhapsody.”
That blew her away. Her eyebrows rose sky high. She looked from Malcolm to me. “Oh.”
I sneered. That’s right, ho. So back your hot-to-trot behind up.
“Who wants some frappé?” Anastasia yelled from the deck. I looked and saw that she had mixed the ingredients and had brought the frappé outside in a huge white Tupperware bowl. Trevor was behind her with a package of paper cups.
Everyone at the table raised their hands except me. Gabrielle sashayed her almost naked tail over to the food table. I knew I was gonna have to watch her.
“How’re your parents, Rhapsody?” Margaret asked. She and my folks were neighbors back when Anastasia, Darryl, and I were children. I had met Anastasia and Darryl when they first came to spend the summer with their aunt Margaret. But she had moved shortly after I graduated from high school. Anastasia and I were already close friends at that point, so we stayed in touch and actually became best friends.
“They’re good. Next Saturday they’re cruising to the Bahamas to celebrate their fortieth wedding anniversary.”
“That’s wonderful. Be sure and say hello to them for me.”
“I definitely will,” I assured her.
Anastasia came and sat five cups of frappé on our table. Malcolm took one and sat it in front of me, and it didn’t take Chantal long to try to claim it as her own.
“I don’t want any frappé, Malcolm.” I pushed the cup of frappé toward the center of the table, away from Chantal’s reach.
Malcolm twirled a forkful of spaghetti and brought it to my lips. “Eat.”
He wasn’t gonna let up until I ate something, so I opened my mouth and accepted the spaghetti. I loved it. I finished his spaghetti, plus a serving of my own.
Trevor brought me a bottle of formula for Chantal. “You wanna give Chantal her bottle, Rhapsody, or should I take her?”
“No. You ain’t takin’ my godbaby from me.” I took the bottle from Trevor’s hands and fed Chantal. When she had finished her bottle, she collapsed in my arms.
Other relatives of Anastasia’s had come to the barbecue, and Margaret, Darryl, and Sharlene were mingling with them.
Malcolm glanced at his wristwatch, then leaned back in his chair and put his hand on my knee. He exhaled. “It’s about that time, boo.”
I knew what he was referring to. “Time for what?”
Malcolm looked into my eyes. “For me to go home.”
I looked at my wristwatch. “It’s not even four o’clock yet.” I wanted to keep him with me for as long as I could.
“Cherise said they’d be home around five thirty. I gotta be there to help Sean get my mother in the house.”
“Who’s Sean?”
“Sean is my brother-in-law. And don’t forget I have to take you back home and get my things.”
I admired Malcolm for being the man he was. Taking care of his mother was honorable, and I knew she needed him, but heck, I needed him too. For the past week I had gotten used to falling asleep in Malcolm’s arms and waking up with my head lying against his chest. Kissing his lips before we parted ways in the morning, going our separate ways to work, returning home in the evenings, having dinner, then making love all night had spoiled me. His mother had had him for twenty-one years; now it was my turn.
“I don’t like this, Malcolm.”
“You don’t like what?”
“You leaving me,” I whined. “I ain’t ready for you to go.”
“Well, what do you expect me to do, Rhapsody? You know my mother’s situation, and you know what my
responsibility to her is.”
“I understand all of that, but—”
He cut me off. “No, I don’t think you do, ’cause if you did, you wouldn’t be sitting here, giving me a hard time about what you already know I gotta do.”
“Why can’t your sister take care of your mother, or why can’t you put her in a home?” The words were out of my mouth before I had a chance to stop them.
The expression on Malcolm’s face confirmed what I already knew. I had pissed him off royally. His two eyebrows suddenly turned into a unibrow. I’d never seen him frown that way before. It was terrifying. Malcolm turned his entire upper torso toward me and brought his face extremely close to mine. “What did you just ask me?”
I kept my mouth closed because I knew I couldn’t fix what I had just said to him. But it seemed as though my silence only added fuel to the fire I had lit.
“Let me tell you somethin’, Rhapsody. Lucille Ella-Jean Washington is my world. No one comes before her, and no one equals her. Understand? My mother doesn’t live with me. I live with her. How can I put her out of her own house? And I don’t care what her condition is or how old she gets. I’ma take care of her ’cause that’s what a son does for his mama. If she lives to be one hundred and I have to change her diapers, that’s what I’ll do, ’cause she changed mine.”
He continued. “And as far as Cherise goes, she does more than her share when it comes to taking care of our mother. She comes over every mornin’ before work and bathes mama. Plus, Cherise gets her out of the house on the weekends.” Malcolm poked himself in the chest and said, “But I’m the one living under Lucille’s roof, so I gotta do what I gotta do, and you just have to accept that.”
“Is that right?” I asked sarcastically. “Well, what if I told you that I didn’t care about your responsibilities at home? I want you to stay with me.”
Malcolm let out a small chuckle, which made me feel like a joke to him. “You know, Rhapsody, the way you say that, it almost sounds like you’re saying, ‘To hell with my mother.’”
I didn’t say anything. I let my silence speak for me.
“I like you, Rhapsody. I really do. We got a good arrangement, but don’t make me choose between you and my mother. Trust me, you don’t wanna do that. Now, I’m gonna go and thank your friends for having us over, and then we’re leaving.”
Malcolm left me and the sleeping Chantal at the table.
During the drive back to my house, I didn’t say a word to Malcolm. I kept my focus on the scenery outside as he drove.
He glanced over at me. “Oh, so now you got an attitude?”
I didn’t even acknowledge him at all. Thirty minutes of silence had passed before Malcolm pulled into my driveway. I was out of the truck before the wheels came to a complete stop. I opened the front door, entered my house, and tried to slam the door shut behind me, but Malcolm was on my heels. He caught the door and forced it back open.
He followed me into the living room. “Rhapsody, what is your problem?”
“You are, butthole.”
“Okay, you know what?” he said. “I’m just gonna grab my stuff and go.”
Malcolm’s duffel bag was on the floor by the door, next to an end table. When he bent down to grab it, I snatched it up and threw it farther into the living room.
“What did you do that for? You better chill, girl. I ain’t got time for this. I told you I gotta meet my mother at the house.”
“Screw your mother!” I spat out.
Malcolm’s eyes grew wide, and out of reflex he raised the back of his hand to send me flying fifty miles an hour. His hand stopped in midair. He didn’t say anything as he glared at me. Malcolm lowered his hand and looked deep into my eyes, like he was searching for the woman who had just uttered those horrible words to him. It couldn’t be the woman whom he’d made love to countless times in the past week. And it certainly wasn’t the woman whose dreadlocks he had held back while she puked her guts out. “I can’t believe you said that to me.” He walked toward the spot where I had thrown his duffel bag.
I started shaking uncontrollably. I knew I was wrong. “Malcolm, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He picked up his duffel bag and tried to walk past me, but I blocked his way to the front door.
“Malcolm, baby, I’m sorry.” Tears had started to run down my face. “I didn’t mean to say that.”
His nostrils swelled with each breath he took. His chest heaved up and down. “Move out of my way.”
I put my hands on his shoulders. “Baby, please don’t leave like this.”
He stepped to his left, and I stepped to my right. He stepped to his right, and I stepped to my left.
“Move,” he said sternly.
“I said I was sorry, Malcolm.” My right shoulder jumped up and touched my right earlobe. I tried to suppress the second tic, but I couldn’t. My shoulder jumped at my ear again. I looked like Michael Jackson and the zombies when they did that move in his Michael Jackson’s Thriller video.
Malcolm frowned at me. “What is wrong with you? Move out of my way.”
I was at his mercy, and for the life of me, I couldn’t control my shoulder. “Can’t . . .” Tic. “We . . .” Tic. “Just . . .” Tic. “Talk?”
Malcolm moved two steps back from me. “What the heck is wrong with you?”
Bad words wanted to escape me. My head and neck jerked back and forth, as though I was trying to keep from vomiting. No, Jesus! No. No, I prayed silently. Tic, tic, tic. “Please, God, don’t let me . . .” Tic. “Say . . . “ Tic. “It.”
Malcolm frowned at me. “Girl, are you crazy?”
Tears spilled from my eyes.
“Your tears don’t move me, Rhapsody, and I ain’t falling for your craziness. Get outta of my way. I’m not gonna tell you again.”
All my self-respect, self-esteem, self-control, and self-confidence vanished. I placed my face in my hands and sobbed like a newborn baby. “Please don’t leave, Malcolm. I don’t want you to go.” I snatched his duffel bag from his hand, threw it on the floor, and sat on it. I looked at him and said, “You ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
He looked down into my eyes and scolded me with his. “I’m about to go to jail.”
“Can we make love before you go?” I was pitiful, and I knew it.
His lips didn’t answer me. Malcolm pulled my right arm and flung me across the living room like I was as light as a sheet of paper. He grabbed his bag and walked out the front door.
I lay on the floor, crying after him. “Malcolm, Malcolm. Please don’t go. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
I got up and ran to the window and saw the Navigator backing out of the driveway. My mood of regret turned into anger at the thought that he had really left me. I ran into my bedroom and picked up the telephone and dialed 9-1-1. I was gonna report that my truck had been stolen.
“Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?” the operator asked.
I couldn’t do it. Even though I was mad as heck, I couldn’t do it. But I knew I had to say something before the police came to my door. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I dialed by mistake.”
“Do you need assistance, ma’am?”
“No, thank you. I was trying to dial four-one-one for information. I’m so sorry.”
“Very well then,” the operator said.
I placed the receiver on its base and threw the telephone across the bedroom. My body shook. “Bbbbbbastard! Bbbbbbbastard!” I stuttered and screamed. I felt my stomach rumble. I ran to the toilet and threw up the spaghetti I had eaten.
Chapter 28
On his way home, Malcolm went over the events that had taken place back at Rhapsody’s house. He couldn’t wrap his brain around her behavior. He understood that Rhapsody had been upset that he had to leave her. They had a week together, but he had a commitment to his mother. Malcolm thought back to Rhapsody’s shoulder, head, and neck jerking. “What the heck was that about?” he asked himself aloud.
He remembered Rhapsody’s wor
ds. Please, God, don’t let me . . . say . . . it.
Malcolm shook his head from side to side. “That chick is kray kray.”
Malcolm had a decision to make. After what had taken place at Anastasia’s barbecue and at Rhapsody’s house, he concluded that maybe it was best that he give the truck back to Rhapsody and go on about his business. The Navigator was nice, and he looked good driving it, but it wasn’t worth the drama.
Malcolm’s Navigator and Sean’s GMC Yukon arrived at the house at the same time.
Outside of the Yukon, Sean stretched his legs. “What’s up, man?” he greeted Malcolm.
“You got it. How was the drive?” Malcolm responded as he climbed out from behind the wheel.
“Long.”
Malcolm walked to the front passenger side of the Yukon, carrying his duffel bag, and stood next to his sister, Cherise. He opened the back door of the Yukon. “Welcome home, Lucy.”
“You want me to kick your behind, Malcolm? I done told you about that ‘Lucy’ crap,” his mother fussed.
Malcolm turned around and bent over. “Here it is. Go ahead and kick it.”
Both Cherise and Sean laughed, but Lucille wasn’t amused. “Don’t laugh at him, y’all. He ain’t funny.” She looked at Malcolm, who was acting a fool. “Get me outta this van, boy.”
Cherise unfolded Lucille’s wheelchair and placed it next to Malcolm. He lifted his mother and carefully sat her in it. Lucille reached up and slapped his bald head.
“Ow, Mama!” Malcolm yelled. “What was that for?”
“For talkin’ crap. I may not be able to kick, but I can still hit.”
Cherise noticed the duffel bag that Malcolm had sat down next to his leg. “Where are you coming from with an overstuffed duffel bag?”
“A friend’s house, not that it’s any of your business.”
“Is it the same friend that bought you that truck?” Lucille asked Malcolm. “Now, I dare you to tell me it ain’t my business.”
The Ugly Side of Me Page 18
