by Donald Welch
A surprised Alexia did a double take at the stylishly dressed Flynn, who usually wore black slacks and the standard Legends logo T-shirt.
“Flynn? I almost didn’t know who you were. You look so handsome.” She stood back and looked him up and down.
“Thank you. These are for you,” he said and handed her the bouquet of flowers.
“For me? Why? It’s not my birthday or anything.” She took the flowers from him and brought them to her nose, allowing her nostrils to fill with the sweet scent of the fresh tulips.
“Mmm …tulips. How did you know tulips were my favorite flower?”
“A little birdie told me,” Flynn said, a bit shocked that such a corny line was coming out of his generally very cool mouth.
“I see, so what else did this little birdie tell you?” She sweetly looked at him.
“That a certain young lady named Alexia Adams would finally see that a certain guy named Flynn Wilson isn’t such a bad guy and allow him to take her out sometime …like maybe after she gets off tonight?”
“Oh really now.” Alexia giggled. “Do me a favor, tell that birdie it was right. You’re not a bad guy at all. Thank you for these. I’ll put them in some water until I go home later.” She walked behind the bar and got a clear crystal vase. Filling it up with water she arranged the flowers nicely as Flynn watched her every move.
“So what do you say?” he asked.
“About? Oh, a date? Flynn, I feel so bad. You have asked me out about four times—”
“Five times,” he interrupted.
“My bad. Five times. Please understand it has nothing to do with you. I’m just not ready to date anyone right now.”
“Look, I’m not trying to get married or get matching tattoos. Just have one innocent little date.”
Alexia laughed heartily, and looking up at him for a moment, she appeared to be thinking. “Okay, Flynn, I will go out with you,” she said, letting out a sigh.
“Seriously?” Flynn was glowing.
“You heard right. But it will have to be tomorrow when I have off. I’ll be whipped after we close tonight. I like hip-hop, but these kids have been working my nerves,” she laughed. “Let me put my drink order in for Cassidy’s table. Where’s Nettie?” she asked, looking around.
“Oh, she went to drop the kids off at the pool,” Flynn playfully remarked, waiting for a reaction from Alexia. “What?” Alexia didn’t quite understand.
Flynn told her that Nettie had gone to the restroom to do her business.
“You are so silly, man. You make me laugh a lot. And it’s been a long time since I really felt like laughing.” Looking at him she smiled, and they both knew there was an attraction. Nettie returned and Alexia put in her order. Flynn went to mingle with some familiar faces, but not before mouthing the word “tomorrow” to Alexia. Nettie could tell that Alexia had finally accepted a date from Flynn.
“Thank you, Jesus!” she said, throwing up her hands. “I take it you are going out with that boy? That chile was about to worry me to death about you.” Nettie waved her hand.
“I just hope he doesn’t get his hopes too high, Nettie. You know, like it’s going to be something serious.”
“Just let nature take its course, girl. That’s all you gotta do. Don’t fight the feeling. If y’all feeling each other, it’ll happen, if not, it won’t. You feel me?” Nettie stopped what she was doing and looked up at Alexia.
“Yes, I do, Nettie.” She grinned.
Just before Flynn introduced the dance segment of the show, he told Skylar that an intoxicated Storm had just arrived. Skylar looked toward the entrance and saw Storm laughing it up with a couple seated by the back. Looking at her watch, she saw that Storm was late again, this time by nearly an hour. Skylar would be glad when Ruta Lee returned to the club. She decided that she and Storm had to talk, soon. For now, she’d do what she had been doing for the last few weeks, keeping quiet. She desperately wanted to give her sister a chance, like Sid and Nettie had asked her to, but she knew in her heart that nothing had really changed with Storm. Not even after being locked up for three years.
At that moment Flynn took to the stage to introduce Gidget, who would be doing a solo hip-hop dance to one of Beanie Sigel’s classics. Quince cranked up the music, dimmed the lights, and the audience gave their undivided attention to the stage. Princess stood off to the side, ready to critique Gidget’s every move. DuBoy, who was sitting with Torch and Cleet, nudged Torch and let him know that this was the bitch he’d been telling him about.
“She’s bad, dawg,” DuBoy bragged. “Man, I done run through that ho a coupla times. That bitch was down for whatever,” he laughed.
“Word!” Cleet said, looking up at Gidget.
“Nigga, you better not let Storm find out about that shit! I’ma tell you that!” Torch threw a sharp look at DuBoy. Cleet laughed.
“Dude, Storm don’t know shit, man. I got that ho on lock! She feenin’ over this dick like a crack ho on a new pipe!” he laughed. “Nigga, all I got to do was lay the pipe right and that bitch became a muthafuckin’ Stepford Wife.”
Everyone laughed except Torch, who knew that if Storm reneged on the agreement she had with DuBoy, his plan would be null and void.
Gidget was doing her thing, and by the reaction from the crowd they were loving it, especially Torch, who for a moment had forgotten about Storm. He had other fish to fry and Gidget would be his next catch. The attention he was giving her had not gone unnoticed by Gidget, who flirted with Torch during her entire routine. Completing her dance, she stepped down from the podium. As she passed Torch’s table, he slipped her a hundred-dollar bill. Beaming, she gladly accepted it and pranced toward the dressing room. Unbeknownst to her, Princess was watching this whole exchange.
“Good routine, Gidget,” Princess commented.
“Thanks,” Gidget said proudly. Princess then warned her not to play to just one table. Everyone was here to see the show, not any particular person.
“He was a big tipper. I didn’t want to be disrespectful,” Gidget innocently offered.
“I feel you, but Legends is not a strip joint. We pay our dancers very well so there is no need to hustle for a dollar,” Princess stated in a stern voice.
Gidget told her she was sorry and that she understood. Secretly, she didn’t like being reprimanded by Princess. As she walked away, Princess stopped her again.
“Gidget!” Princess called out her name above the music.
“Yes,” she answered without turning around.
“I mean it. Don’t let it happen again.”
Skylar made her way over to the bar where a pensive-looking Nettie seemed to be just going through the motions. Skylar tried to chitchat, but noticed right away that something was a little different. She immediately thought that Nettie and June were fighting again. Nettie assured her that things couldn’t be better between the two. In fact, she told her that Deana’s, the lesbian bar in town, was honoring June for all the work she had done for AIDS awareness in Philly.
“I know she’d like you to be there, Skylar. You think you could make it?” she asked her.
“Sure, just let me know when it is and I’ll roll through with you,” she said, smiling.
“But you gotta stay close to me when we go in the place,” Nettie told her. “ ’Cause those biker dykes will be salivating when they see you step in the spot.”
They both laughed, and Skylar told her she was not worried about anything like that, that she would be there to support June. The conversation ended abruptly though, as Skylar realized she had not gone by Cassidy’s table to ask if he and his crew needed anything. She was very happy that things were cool with Nettie and June and knew that they had a genuine love for each other. Frankly, she never really understood the whole lesbian thing, but she didn’t judge Nettie or anyone else. She believed that love was possible between any two people. When it came to intimacy for her, well, sex, there was no substitution for having a man. But her security in herself
allowed her to go into a club like Deana’s and have a great time regardless. She knew women would try and hit on her. Hell, that had happened right here in Legends on occasion, but she always handled it with grace. She couldn’t get her mind off Nettie. Something else was bothering her, but Skylar didn’t know what. Nettie was mum on the subject.
Watching Skylar walk away, Nettie looked at her and beamed. She loved her some Skylar. Skylar had always accepted her for who she was. Not just the fact that she was a lesbian, but everything else, shortcomings and all. She then directed her attention to Storm, who was standing on the opposite side of the club. My two girls, she thought to herself. They’s like night and day. She loved them both the same. She longed for the day when they would get things right and be the sisters that Dutch always wanted them to be. In fact, she looked at all these girls as her children, even Lovely and the new girl Alexia. Thinking about the conversation she’d had with Lovely earlier still had her a little mystified.
When Lovely first told her about the rape, Nettie had felt like saying to her, “Let the muthafucka die for what he did.” But she knew that was not the right thing to say. Instead she told her that since she had uncovered the truth she had a moral obligation to act.
“I know this is a very painful time in your life, baby,” Nettie said. “But ease your mind and soul by doing the right thing and forgive the man. You don’t have to forget what he did to your mother, but you not giving him the blood … no one wins.”
She continued: “Sometimes in life you gotta be the bigger bitch, baby. If your momma is strong enough, you can discuss it with her and give her the option. If not, then don’t tell her. Now, I’m not saying you should all of a sudden start kissing and embracing the nigga like he was there when you came out the womb, ’cause I’m not,” she pointed out. “You met him in a strange way, but it was for a reason. Shit, I never knew my daddy, and I had a momma that didn’t care to know me.” Her tone grew slightly more serious, but she lightened it up, saying, “You don’t want blood on your hands, girl! No pun intended.” They both laughed.
“See, it’s about saving somebody’s life. Whatever he did, he gotta take that shit up with God! That ain’t none of your business. Besides, if shit was different, you wouldn’t be here and that would just kill my ass!” She hugged Lovely, who thanked her for the advice, telling Nettie that she’d think it over more and make her decision, but that what she’d said had really helped. They embraced once more before leaving the coffee shop.
That was just this afternoon, and now that a few hours had passed, Nettie counted herself lucky that Lovely did not ask her what she’d do, because she would have had to lie. Nettie told Lovely what she thought she should do. But Nettie knew damn well how she really felt about the situation. She would have let the nigga die right there in that bed for the shit he did. Matter of fact, she would have unhooked the bastard’s lifeline in the hospital room and watched him die a slow and painful death. Yeah, she would have wanted her face to be the last thing he saw before descending into hell! Men. Hmph. Most of them are fucked up—that’s why I don’t deal with them.
“Let me get a Heineken,” a female voice said to Nettie. To Nettie’s surprise it was Pia Scott, an old nemesis of Storm’s.
“What pimp drug you in off the street?” she asked sarcastically.
“Wow, you funny, you know that? I mean, I know you’re funny, but I mean in a comical way,” Pia spat while laughing.
“Bitch, don’t try me. Now, is a Heineken all you wanted?” Nettie glared at her with a hand on her hip.
“For now,” Pia smirked. “Heard Storm was out. She here?” she asked while looking around.
“Why you worried about Storm? You ain’t never liked that girl and you know it. You one of the reasons she got into the trouble she did in the first place!” Nettie stated.
“What are you talking about? I ain’t got no beef with Storm. We cool.” She took a long sip of beer.
“Yeah, right! Why all of a sudden you just pop up in here, Pia, huh? ’Cause this club been open for two years and I think maybe yo ass was here one time. Why now? Huh?”
“I heard Cassidy was here doing a little concert. So I came by. This is a public place, ain’t it?” She rolled her eyes and finished off the beer.
Nettie told her that since she had missed the show she should probably leave because there wasn’t any other reason for her to be there. Pia then saw DuBoy sitting over at Torch’s table and her mood changed.
“Yo, I see a few old friends in the house.” She didn’t take her eyes off DuBoy.
Nettie saw this and offered, “Well in that case, why don’t you go over and get him, and you both ride off into the muthafuckin’ sunset.”
“Oh, DuBoy don’t want me, girl. And I don’t want DuBoy. Been there, done that,” she reminded Nettie.
“Yeah, I forgot, there ain’t too many you ain’t been with, right, Pia?” Nettie spat viciously.
“Now, I know you ain’t talking, when you was known for giving niggas head for five dollars in the old days.” Pia threw back her head in laughter.
Not missing a beat, Nettie retorted, “True, but I could never get ahead in the game ’cause I was always splitting my take with yo momma! Remember, that ho ran them same streets with me till she got a hold of something that made her lose her fucking mind! Got everybody thinking she’s bipolar. Ha! The bitch was born crazy. And she birthed a crazy bitch!” Nettie stated emphatically.
This affected Pia more than anything else. Attacks on her she could handle, but those about her mother crossed the line. She slowly put down the beer bottle and walked away, saying nothing else to Nettie. Not getting more than five feet from the bar, she turned back to face Nettie one last time with a hate-filled glare and then quickly exited the club.
Whatever Pia’s plan had been for the visit, it was quickly scratched after the encounter with Nettie. Outside the club, she walked toward her car in tears. She hated Nettie. In fact, she blamed Nettie—for turning her mother out on the streets years ago. Passing Nettie’s car, she thought of keying it but changed her mind after seeing a couple making out in the car behind it. Although they probably wouldn’t have noticed her, she didn’t want to take the chance. She’d have another opportunity. Once she befriended Storm again, she’d be back in the club and she and Nettie could finish what had been started. Yes, the time will come to get even.
Inside the club, the rest of the evening went smoothly. The crowd continued to have a great time. Skylar and Storm avoided each other like the plague. Flynn, still excited over his upcoming date with Alexia, kept on flirting with her. Nettie phoned June and gave her the good news that Skylar would be at Deana’s for her celebration.
Torch left the club, and when he reached his car, an unexpected guest was leaning against the driver’s side, smoking a cigarette.
“You mind if I hitch a ride home with you tonight, playa?” the girl asked seductively.
“Sure, baby, where is home?” Torch smiled while opening the door for her.
“Wherever you want home to be,” she said, dropping the cigarette in the dirt and grinding it out.
Torch asked, “Are you sure you know what you’re doing, ma’?”
Not answering, she just looked at him and threw a sly smile.
“Get in the car, Gidget,” Torch said as he shifted his large frame to the side, allowing her to step up into his burgundy Hummer. As the car sped off, the radio blasted a familiar Kanye West tune, “Gold Digger.”
< FIFTEEN >
Monday, Monday
Skylar was not particularly looking forward to the drive into the city today. For one, it was Monday, the day she set aside as Skylar’s day. On Skylar’s day, she did whatever she wanted to do. Sometimes, she stayed in bed all day watching TV. Other times, she’d catch a midday movie in town and grab a bite to eat with a friend. Even Sidney knew not to plan anything with her on Monday. In fact, she didn’t even answer her phone or check messages on Monday unless it was absolutely
necessary. This was just a practice that she had been doing for years. It was something Dutch did all his life.
His day was Sunday. After church, he would perhaps take a walk in the park and sit down on a bench and think about all the blessings God had showered on him. Or take a long drive alone somewhere, way out, and just see God’s land. He didn’t go into the restaurant. The staff would have to handle everything from the cooking to the cleaning.
Those memories brought a smile to Skylar’s face, a smile that disappeared quickly as she remembered why she was heading to the club. Storm!
She demanded that Storm meet her at the club at ten that morning for a discussion. For the first week or so, things had gone rather smoothly with Storm handling management duties. However, as the weeks went on, things were changing, and Skylar had been holding back her comments far too long.
Once inside the club, she headed for the main dining area, where the meeting would take place. Pacing the floor, trying to calm down before Storm arrived, she grabbed a bottle of water from the small refrigerator beneath the bar. The picture of Dutch that Nettie had hung on the wall caught her eye.
“I’m going to need your strength, Daddy,” she said softly while looking at it.
Noticing that it was now ten-thirty and still no Storm, Skylar retrieved her cellphone from her purse. As soon as she began to make a call, the door opened and a hungover Storm entered. Storm had no intention of making eye contact with her sister until she was ready.
Dressed in an off-white designer running suit and tennis shoes, with her hair hidden under a baseball cap, she pulled out a chair from a nearby table and sat down. Skylar glared at her the entire time. There were several uneasy moments of silence.
“What’s up, Sky?” Storm asked, still not making eye contact.
“That’s what I should be asking you.” Skylar folded her arms across her chest. Storm hated when Skylar did this.
“Listen, Skylar, I’m a little tired. I did work last night you know.” For the first time she looked at her sister. “So could we have this little meeting and talk about what the hell you want to talk about so that I can go back to bed, please? Thank you!”
