Jada had finished getting dressed. Wanting Kalif to stay as optimistic as possible, she urged him to call again, saying his father may have been in the shower or something. Kalif snatched up his cell from the middle of the floor. He took a deep breath before dialing Rasul once more. And just as he had figured, the same thing happened. Voicemail.
“Man, fuck all this. I’ma go by the crib this evening. That’s what a nigga gonna do. Me and my old man gonna get all this shit straight once and for all. He can’t avoid me when I’m standing right in his face. Not him or my mother! If they wanna make me out to be the bad guy so bad, then, shit, I’ma be just that.”
Jada’s ears perked all the way up. Loyal, dedicated, and trustworthy beyond measure, she had been hanging tough with Kalif for months, and he had barely spoken about his family since getting banished. This was her time. Her mind was all over the place. She wanted finally to meet his parents and show them she could potentially make their son a good wife one day. Maybe if they gave her their seal of approval and their endorsement, she’d have a solid chance with Kalif. Carefully choosing her words, she eased her way on in.
“So, Kalif, maybe I should ride with you. I mean, I know how angry you be getting, and I don’t want you to get pulled over by the police for speeding, or some stupid shit like that, if shit don’t go your way. Plus, for real, you know the insurance ain’t right and your L’s suspended.”
Thinking nothing of it, Kalif agreed. It hadn’t taken much convincing on Jada’s part. He told Jada they would probably go over there about four thirty, so she should meet him back at the room right before them. Jada was ecstatic. She tried to contain her excitement before he noticed and changed his mind.
It was early enough that she could get herself all the way together to meet her future in-laws. The first thing she did was swing by the house they were slanging clothes at. After picking out what she believed to be the perfect outfit, she took two packs of the most expensive weave they were selling. TayTay watched her girl hurry through the house as if it were New Year’s Eve and the clock were about to strike twelve. Since the dramatic incident at the hotel room with Brad, TayTay hadn’t gone outside much. Instead, she had posted up, drinking wine, smoking weed, and oftentimes doing too much of both. TayTay’s world was in the house, and in that house only.
With everything she needed in hand, Jada roared out of the driveway and headed up to Greenfield Plaza. The twins who did her hair and nails were both on the fourth floor, so she could get her hair done by one and then her nails by the other without having to wait. After that, all she had to do was get her makeup and lashes done and get dressed. By her calculations, she’d be putting on her last wedge wraparound sandal when Kalif arrived at the hotel room.
Kalif was a little late getting back to the room. Instead of coming in, he blew the horn twice. Like a dog hearing a whistle, Jada came running. She climbed in the truck and shut the door. After fastening her seat belt, she waited. And waited. And then waited some more. She’d gone out of her way to look top notch, and he had yet to notice. It was as if he didn’t care enough about her feelings to even acknowledge the drastic change she’d undergone since this morning. This was a further blow to her bruised ego. With a lump in her throat, Jada sucked it up, as she always did where Kalif was concerned. She chalked it up to him being preoccupied and distracted about possibly chin checking his father for the first time ever in his life.
A few blocks away from his house, Kalif pulled over, reached into the middle console, and grabbed his cell phone. With one hand on the steering wheel and his cell in the other, he tried his father’s number yet again. He was hoping for the best but expecting the worst, and his call went right to voicemail.
“I should just text him and have him meet up with me at the Coney Island or some shit. I mean, it’s obvious he’s avoiding my calls,” he muttered.
Conniving was Jada’s middle name. She had been waiting for the opportunity to meet the famous Rasul and Fatima from day one. Even when they were back in school, she had wondered what sort of home life Kalif had to make him behave the way he did. Now it was finally time to have at least some of her curiosity curbed, and Kalif was trying to shut it down. There was no way she could allow that to happen. Besides, she had put a lot of work into looking as good as she did. She’d even taken a few selfies in an effort to build up her confidence with Kalif. She was going to meet his people if she had to drag him over there kicking and screaming.
“Look, I know it must be hard to stand toe-to-toe with your father, but you do need the extra income that ole boy can offer, correct?” she said.
“Yeah, you right.” Kalif didn’t hesitate to agree.
Jada kept at his mental, knowing he was off his game and caught up in his emotions. “Well, if you don’t step to and straighten this out quick, the opportunity may be off the table. Then what?”
Once again, she had no trouble getting Kalif to see eye to eye with her. A few minutes later, they were turning off Linwood, then parking in front of a nice-size house with an emerald-green awning. The lawn was cut and lined perfectly. And the porch had two gigantic flowerpots on both sides, filled with all the pretty flowers Jada used to see down at the Eastern Market with her granny back in the day, when her home life was normal. Once out of the truck, Jada tugged on her tight-fitting sundress, pulling it down. Then she leaned over and checked her face in the side mirror.
Momentarily, Kalif stood on the sidewalk, as if his legs had ceased to work. Jada stood by his side, with a dumb smirk on her face. Seeing a small bit of smoke coming down the driveway, Kalif finally spoke. “Dang. They must be in the backyard, barbecuing. Maybe that’s why my old man ain’t answer the phone. The reception is fucked up back there.”
At this point, Jada could care less what the reason was that his father had not picked up. They were only feet away from her destiny, and she was feeling herself. She hadn’t cleaned up for nothing. With a brave face, Kalif led the way, and Jada trailed behind him like a puppy dog begging for a treat. She could tell from his step, he had not come to play games. He had an agenda, and so did she. When they passed the open side door, Jada tried to sneak a peek inside the house but couldn’t manage to do so. The couple was moving much too fast. Maybe she would ask to use the bathroom to wash her hands after Kalif’s parents invited them to stay for dinner. The food on the grill smelled delicious. Jada quickly decided she was going to say how good her own food was, even if it wasn’t. She would then beg her soon-to-be mother-in-law to give her secret family recipes.
Once they reached the backyard, all the anticipation and fanfare evaporated. Kalif didn’t find his father, mother, or little brother. Instead, he saw some strange female hovering over the grill, fork in hand.
Not wanting to alarm her, Kalif asked where his family members were at. “Hey, what up, doe? Where my peoples at? And who are you?”
“Yeah, who are you?” Jada asked, joining in on the questioning as if she had a right to.
The young girl giggled as she closed the lid on the grill. “Oh, hello. My name is Stacy. I’m friends with Hakim. And I know from the pictures I’ve seen on the mantel inside, you’re Kalif.”
“Yeah, this is Kalif,” Jada replied. She had become suddenly territorial, and she tried to grab ahold of Kalif’s arm.
Instinctively moving his arm away, Kalif got closer to Stacy. “So yeah. Okay. You’re Hakim’s girlfriend I’ve heard so much about, huh?”
Stacy blushed, showing Kalif every inch of the silver braces in her mouth. “Yeah, I guess so. At least I hope so.” Dressed in a light pink polo-style shirt and black jeans, she was prepped out. What appeared to be her own natural long hair was pulled back in a ponytail. With her bubbly personality, Kalif could easily see why his little brother liked her so much. She reminded him of their mother.
“That’s cool.” Kalif had enough problems with his father that he had to work out. So dealing with the fact that Stacy was the one behind dragging his brother to church every Sunday w
ould have to wait. “Where is everybody at? Why they have you out here slaving, cooking some . . .”
“It’s lamb chops and grilled mixed vegetables. Hakim’s favorite. He had to run to the store to grab Mama Fatima some fresh asparagus to throw on here as well. She’s upstairs with the twins. You want me to go get her?”
“Maybe in a few.” Kalif grinned while checking his brother’s girl out.
Jada rolled her eyes. She didn’t know what it was about Stacy that had instantly rubbed her the wrong way, but it was something. Maybe the fact that the young girl appeared outwardly to be everything that Jada wasn’t. Or that she had referred to Kalif’s mother as Mama Fatima, a title Jada should be using as well. Whatever it was, she’d been around Kalif long enough to tell when he liked someone or didn’t. And from where Jada stood, she felt her man was being a little too chatty and friendly with the female that had ultimately broken his family up. Feeling vindictive, Jada thought she’d bring that fact up and throw salt in the little Miss Innocence game Stacy was running on Kalif. “So do you go to one of those megachurches or not?”
Stacy did not falter. She proudly announced the name of her church home. Not knowing she was doing anything wrong, she invited Jada to attend service sometime. She mentioned they had no real dress code policy; it was come as you were. Of course, Jada took that as a low-key dis of what she had on. Jada wanted to read Stacy the riot act and tell her exactly how much everything cost that she had on from head to toe. Before Jada could fix her mouth, a car pulled up in the driveway. Once the guy behind the wheel was outside of the vehicle and marching toward the backyard, she assumed this could only be Kalif’s baby brother.
“Hey. I’m Jada,” she said as she jumped in front of him, slowing down his stride.
Not saying a word, Hakim stepped around the skimpily dressed female with the painted face.
“What you doing here, Kalif?” Hakim placed his arm around Stacy as if she needed protection. “Mom called me on my cell and said you was out here in the backyard with some girl.”
Without hesitation, Kalif turned and looked up at his parents’ bedroom window. He saw Fatima standing there, arms folded, peering downward. He didn’t motion to her, and she didn’t wave to her son. That was their normal relationship, and it had been this way for some time, even before they had the big fight and he got thrown out. So he wasn’t fazed by the coldness. It was second nature. Jada, however, was still trying to be in the mix and was desperate to be recognized, so she waved up at Kalif’s mother. Fatima snarled momentarily, looking at Jada as if she was nothing more than filth. Then she promptly closed the curtain, leaving Jada speechless.
This was the first time Kalif had laid eyes on his younger sibling since he had left him bloodied on the dining-room floor. It was easy to see that Hakim had a few souvenir scars from that evening under his left eye. Whereas part of Kalif wanted to reach out and apologize for what he had done, he still believed that anyone that insulted the prophet—peace be upon his soul—needed to get dealt with one way or another. So it was what it was.
“Look, dawg, don’t be so hostile. I’m not here to see you, anyway, so you can fall back on that tough-guy act with me. You already know how I get down, so if I was on anything else, you’d know that shit by now. But, dig, I’m here on another mission. Where is Pops at? I’ve been calling him and ain’t get no answer.”
Still posted at Stacy’s side, Hakim had animosity and pure hatred in his tone when he said, “He’s not here. He went up to Muskegon to visit Unc and make sure everything is everything with him.”
Jada was beyond nosy. She couldn’t help it. She inserted herself in the brothers’ conversation. “Unc? Who is that? I’ve never heard of him. Is that y’all real uncle or something?”
Kalif and Hakim both ignored her question, but Stacy jumped right in. “No, that’s Pops’s homeboy, S. P. Black, from off Mt. Elliott, he used to get money with. They’re like brothers, and they behave like brothers are supposed to act. Isn’t that right, Hakim?”
Kalif and Hakim both knew what Stacy was trying to say, but they ignored her, just as they did Jada. Their issues went back farther than the physical altercation of a few months ago. The two brothers had been feuding since Hakim came out of the womb, and no wise, slick comments were going to make all that was wrong with them right. It was what it was. Stacy had tried, and that was all she could do.
Standing off to the side, Jada was infuriated, and it showed. She had shifted her weight to one side and had twisted her lips. She had put in real work trying to be everything to Kalif, and he continued to box her out. Here Stacy was, standing by her man, calling his parents Mama and Pops, looking at framed pictures on mantels, and cooking as if this was her house. And apparently, she knew the long family history. Sucking her teeth from anger, Jada pouted. She couldn’t even get a simple wave in return from someone standing at a window. She was used to getting shit on by her own family; now Kalif’s family had joined in on the disrespectful behavior. Fed up, Jada turned and headed slowly back down the driveway toward the truck.
“So yeah, I’ll just try to get back up with Pops later.” Kalif reached in his pocket and pulled out a small-size knot. After peeling off a few hundred-dollar bills, he tried to hand them to his brother. “Here. Give this to Mom so she can buy something for the twins for me. Regardless of how y’all moving right now, I’m still family. And one day I want to finally meet my baby sisters when Mom stops bugging.”
“Don’t hold your breath. Besides, no one wants that dirty money you always have,” Hakim said.
Since he refused to take it, Kalif placed it on a lawn chair. “Come on now, you Uncle Tom nigga with an attitude. We was raised on dirty money, so stop fronting for your little girlfriend. Truth be told, that shit should be running hot in your veins more than mine.”
“Ain’t shit in them filthy veins of yours but evildoing and ice water! Or maybe you the spawn of Satan for real.”
“Okay now. Keep running off at the mouth and you not gonna be this girl’s hero no more,” Kalif barked with certainty. With his chest sticking out, head held high, he left the backyard and headed to the truck. He passed Jada on the way. When he had almost reached the truck, Stacy came running down the driveway.
Jada twisted her expression, wondering what this Goody Two-shoes bitch wanted to rub in her face next. But Stacy ran right past Jada and straight to Kalif.
“Listen, Kalif, just have faith,” Stacy said. She smiled and touched his arm reassuringly. “Things are going to get better. It’s just gonna take some time. I heard you pray all the time, so you know how powerful God is. And just so you know, your father speaks very highly of you, no matter what you may think or what Hakim says.”
“Girl, bye with all that extra,” Jada muttered. She waved her hand quickly as if dismissing the girl who was years younger than her.
Kalif gave Jada an “old-school grandmother” death stare. Then he nodded at Stacy, acknowledging he heard her and was taking in all that she had said. Kalif was appreciative of the words. He always put on a brave front where his people were concerned, but he was human just like the next person. He needed that affirmation.
Kalif and Jada climbed in the truck without uttering a word. As Kalif put the truck in drive and drove off, Jada looked back over her shoulder at Stacy, who was waving. Jada silently vowed to one day slap the young bitch dead across her face.
Chapter 14
Jada was all in her feelings, and rightfully so. It felt as if she’d been sucker punched in the face. The pit of her stomach ached from sorrow, not hunger. Kalif had just dropped her off at her car and hadn’t said a single word about what had just taken place. They had ridden in silence. Here she was, in the most expensive outfit they had stolen. Hair slayed. Nails on fleek. Face flawless. It was like the prom, the homecoming dance, and her wedding day all rolled into one. Jada had gone all out in anticipation of meeting Kalif’s parents. And for what?
When he was off his meds and being unpredictab
le, Jada was there. When he would wake up sad, she was sad with him. And even when he would wake up in the oddest state of mind, Jada never left his side. When he would pray for days on end some weeks, she made sure Kalif at least took a break to eat something or have a cup of hot tea. The dedicated female felt that after all she’d dealt with while hanging out with their complicated son, she had earned the right to sit at the table with Kalif’s parents. Jada felt that she deserved at least a “Thank you for helping to look after this insensitive savage we raised.”
Kalif’s father had not been at home to take part of the awkward situation. And Hakim, whom she had heard so much about and had even felt sorry for, had acted as if she was not there, either. And most hurtful of all, Fatima had given her the ultimate cold shoulder. Kalif’s mother had made it perfectly clear by closing the curtain on Jada’s face that there would be no invitations to the family reunion anytime soon, if ever. There was no other way to take what she had done. Jada had fought back the tears. She’d been devastated. Her hands had trembled, but she had tried to remain brave and keep her front up. She hadn’t even got an opportunity to step foot inside the dwelling Kalif grew up in. All her plans had been shut down. Fatima, the mother of two grown boys and two baby girls, had room in her life for only one daughter-in-law. And from the looks of things, that uppity bitch Stacy had already filled that esteemed position. Jada had to come to terms with the fact that even though she thought highly of herself, others didn’t.
Now, as she weaved in and out of the heavy rush-hour traffic on the Lodge, Jada turned the volume on the radio all the way down, then turned the radio all the way off. Her head was pounding, and the only thing she wanted to hear was dead silence. Her spirits were low, and she needed to have a drink and to smoke a blunt. The only thing that gave her a small bit of relief was the fact that it was raining. At first it was light, but now the rain was pouring down. At least their little fucked-up barbecue is getting rained on. With they fake bitch asses. Lost in her train of thought, Jada accidentally drove by her exit.
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