Wrong Way Renee

by Wynter Daniels

  Renee watched her sister work. “You look great. I love your outfit. Where are Mama and Daddy?”

  “Dad's still in court and Mama had to run to the grocery store for some kind of cheese for the meal. I guess Dad ate her ingredients again.”

  “Where are the kids?” Renee picked up a head of red cabbage and a knife and began shredding.

  “Mama gave in to their desperate pleas. Or was that my desperate pleas?” She shrugged. “Either way, they wanted away from me and I wanted rid of them, so she took them with her to the store. Gary Junior bit another kid in his class today. He's in big trouble. I don't know why he does shit like that. I mean, he's in kindergarten, for God's sake. He's not two years old anymore.”

  No, but he's still a little monster. “I told you a long time ago to bite him back.” She hacked at the cabbage, throwing thin shreds into the bowl. A tiny purple slice landed on the floor. She immediately reached for a paper towel and spray cleaner to wash the spot. That done, she returned to shredding.

  “I can not bite my own child, Renee. If you had any of your own, you'd understand. And why are you so neurotic about the floor? You don’t even make your bed.”

  Renee slammed her knife down. And in this corner… “I've heard that you should bite a kid back from like a million people. One of my customers cured her three-year-old by biting her. And I'm not neurotic. I like floors clean is all. It sucks to step on something or feel a sticky patch under your shoes.”

  “Whatever.” Char looked up from her work to stare out the window. “Mama's back.” She laid the knife on the edge of the counter, wiped her hands on a dishtowel and hurried out the backdoor toward their mother's Escalade.

  “Just dismiss everything I say, Char,” Renee said to the empty room. “You're the parent, you must know it all. I have no husband and no children. Probably because I'm so neurotic.”

  The door swung open. Two streaks of brown rushed past.

  “Hey,” she called after them. “How about saying hello to your favorite aunt?”

  The din of fast moving little feet abruptly stopped, then moved closer. “Hi, Aunt Renee.” Gary Junior rolled his eyes. He hugged her tightly then stepped aside. The edges of his mouth were smudged with chocolate, a permanent condition with him.

  Four-year-old Alyssa, a deceivingly angelic mix of caramel-colored skin and gold eyes gazed up at her. “Hi, Aunt Renee,” she mimicked her brother.

  “Hello guys.” She folded her arms. “Gary, I hear you're in big trouble. Why are you biting? How would you like it if someone bit you?”

  “But they're mean to me.” He dropped his head. “They call me fat ass.”

  She considered his situation. “Turn around.”

  “What?” The child looked up at her, a puzzled expression on his face.

  “Turn around.” She pointed down, making circles with her index finger.

  He did as he was told.

  “Okay, so I'm checking it out. You don’t have much junk in your trunk at all. You definitely do not have a fat ass. What are you worried about?”

  Alyssa's chubby hands flew to her mouth and Gary's eyes grew big as saucers.

  Char and Elizabeth came inside, each carrying a grocery bag.

  “Aunt Renee said fat ass, Mommy. So did Gary Junior.” Alyssa clasped her hands around her back, smiling like a Cheshire cat.

  Char looked from her sister to her son.

  “Thanks, Alyssa.” Renee gave her niece an exaggerated wink. “We were discussing Gary Junior's biting problem. He tells me some of the kids at school are calling him names. That's why he's biting them. I explained that simply because someone calls you a fat ass, it doesn't mean you are one. It's no reason to lash out and bite them.” She glanced sideways at Alyssa who was giggling. She'd take care of the little snitch later.

  “Renee!” Elizabeth Wright set her packages on the counter next to the stainless steel refrigerator. Every lock of her dyed brown hair was perfectly in place. She wore khaki pants with a navy Austin Reed double-breasted blazer, always the picture of preppie perfection. She looked down over her pointy nose at Renee. “I guess it's acceptable to use that language at that…salon you own, but it's not okay in this house.”

  Renee hated the way her Mama always referred to “that salon you own,” like it was an incurable disease. Truth was her mother hated it even more because it was mostly patronized by white women, rather than her own kind.

  The children scampered away, eager to escape the fresh tension in the room.

  “Nice to see you too, Mama,” Renee said.

  Elizabeth's eyes narrowed, her tortoise shell glasses slipping further down her nose. “I can not understand for the love of God, why you say such things to the children.” She looked at Char. “I called your father from the car. He and Gary are on the way. They won the Barnard case.”

  Char clapped her hands and giggled. “You know what that means, Mama.” She looked at Renee to explain. “Gary said we'd take that Alaskan cruise if they won this one. Big settlement.” She jumped up and down, squealing like a wounded pig.

  “You could be practicing with them, Renee.” Elizabeth gave her head a disapproving shake. “If you had only majored in pre-law as your father and I suggested, you'd be a partner like Gary is by now. But you had to drop out to start doing nails, for God's sake. Do you know how many girls would have given their right arm to have the opportunities you did?” She wrung her hands, looking around the room. “I see you girls have finished the salad. I just need to put the cheese on the chicken and slip it into the oven. “

  Renee's shoulders slumped. Too bad she couldn't fast-forward past these family dinners like she did through the boring parts of a rented movie. Maybe she was a failure. The sound of the front door closing interrupted her self-deprecation.

  “Where’s my sexy wife?” Gary shouted from the foyer. “Come 'ere, Miss Char. I need some sugar.”

  Char took off running.

  Renee poked her head through the dining room door and watched her sister jump into his arms, wrapping her spindly legs around his waist. He was so thin and gawky, it amazed her that he was able to hold her sister up. Char kissed him before he set her down.

  He glanced at Renee and straightened his suit jacket. “Hey, Renee. Didn't see you there. Sorry.”

  She backed through the door into the kitchen. Gary was totally not her type, but she was jealous, damn it. Jealous of her sister's loving marriage, big house and easy life. She had sitters for the kids whenever she wanted, she bought what she wanted, traveled when she wanted, did what she wanted. And she had a man who worshiped the ground she walked on, something Renee had never even come close to.

  Be happy for your sister. She has everything she ever wanted.

  The kitchen door creaked and she jumped. Luther Wright entered the room, making a beeline for her. “How's my pumpkin?” As he hugged her, she closed her eyes, drank in the familiar scent of him, a mix of Polo cologne and Head and Shoulders shampoo, the smell of comfort and safety.

  She held on for an extra few seconds. “Hi, Daddy. Congratulations on winning your case.”

  “Thanks, sweetheart. Why don't you buy yourself a new outfit, on me.” He pushed something into her palm. Luther Wright always knew when his daughter needed a lift.

  She stealthily shoved the money into her pocket. “Thank you, Daddy.” As long as her mother didn't know. Money from Mama always felt like some sort of admonishment.

  Over dinner, Renee counted her mother's disapproving glances at everyone at the table. Char was usually spared. Luther seemed to be the most frequent benefactor of his wife's scowls, with Gary Junior coming in second.

  By nine PM, the sleeping kids had to be carried to Char's car and Renee found her chance to sneak away. She kissed her parents then headed home to the safety of her tiny apartment.

  The red light on the answering machine was blinking when she arrived. Setting her mail on the counter, she hit the Play button.

  “…Renee, honey, it’s Dan.
I need to…hic…talk to you. We have to discuss some stuff…hic… Give me a call when you get in, please, baby.”

  Baby? Honey? He must have been drunk. But he sounded like he wanted to… She picked up the phone to dial his cell.

  Wait a second. What the hell was she doing? Why would she want anything to do with his cheating ass? Everything bad that had happened to her in the last few months was his fault. His fault she'd taken this apartment she couldn’t afford alone, and with another eight months on the lease. His fault she'd been shopping like a mad woman to fill the void he'd left in her life. His fault she had no one to share the upcoming holidays with. His fault her life had become so freaking pathetic.

  She stared at the phone, wondering if she was pathetic enough to call him back.

  Chapter Two

  “So sorry I'm late, Helen.” Renee raced across the salon Wednesday morning, slid into her chair and threw her purse on the floor behind her.

  “No problem,” Helen said. “I just got here myself. How are you?”

  “I'm great.” She was proud of herself for resisting the urge to call Dan last night. Screw the bastard.

  Chantelle, the salon's other nail tech—and the only other black woman in the place—was already working. She hadn't said much since Renee had reprimanded her for telling an off-color joke in the salon two weeks ago. Now, she seemed to be whispering to her clients all the time. It made Renee uncomfortable, so she decided to try to make nice. “I love the way you did your makeup, Chantelle. It really shows off your great cheekbones.”

  Chantelle eyed her warily, raising her highly arched brows. “Why thank you, Renee.”

  “And that lipstick color was a brilliant choice. But when you have a gorgeous face like you do, how can you go wrong?” She gave her a sugary smile.

  “You might want to hold back on the honey a bit,” Helen whispered. “It’s a little over the top.”

  Zoey ran to the nail stations, skidding to a stop, her pink Converse high tops leaving cloudy streaks across the polished wood floor. “Listen up everyone. One of my customers from the shop where I used to work has an appointment in a few minutes. You'll notice right away she's unusual, but please, don't stare. You'll make her uncomfortable. She likes to be addressed as Hazel and she's…”

  The door chime dinged and Zoey's head popped back. “Hazel, darling, how are you?” she shrilled as she glided to the reception area.

  Renee heard a man say, “I had a bitch of a time finding this place, Zoey.”

  What the…

  Everyone in the salon stared toward the door at the tall blonde woman…no, man, no, woman. He marched down the center aisle to Zoey's station. Built like a linebacker, he was dressed in a rose colored skirt with a white blouse, a flower pinned near the top button. It reminded Renee of an outfit her grandma might have worn.

  “Everyone, meet Hazel.” Zoey smiled, but her eyes flashed a warning at Chantelle. “Hazel, this is Renee, that's Chantelle, this is Becky.” She ushered Hazel to her service chair.

  Chantelle's mouth fell open.

  “Nice to meet you Hazel,” Renee said, breaking the deafening silence that had momentarily settled over the salon. She stared at Chantelle's face, still frozen in shock. “Can I get you anything, Chantelle?”

  Chantelle finally closed her mouth. “Nice to meet you,” she ground out.

  Becky waved, then continued cutting her client's hair.

  “Hello everyone” Hazel deftly maneuvering his large frame into the pink chair. “This place is a step up for you, Zoey.”

  Zoey glanced around the room. “I like it.”

  Renee finished her manicure then led Helen to the drying area. When she returned to her station to wipe up the cloudy streaks Zoey's sneakers had left on the floor, she noticed how Chantelle kept looking toward Zoey's station, whispering to her client. Heading to the kitchenette for a cup of coffee, Renee stopped at Chantelle's table and leaned down, trying to discreetly whisper in Chantelle's ear. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine, fine. No problems.” Chantelle continued polishing her client's nails.

  Renee twirled a ringlet as she walked past Zoey's station, taking a long glance in the mirror at Hazel. He would probably be pretty nice looking if it wasn't for all the makeup and the blonde hair teased up to look like the top of a Q-tip.

  There she went again. Trying to make a date out of the most unavailable man she’d met since the bank robber. Why hadn’t that cute cop called her last night instead of Dan? Was Dan tired of the nymph and her money? Did he want to come back to her?

  She walked straight into the wall with a thud. Damn, that hurt.

  Becky ran over. “Are you all right? God, that's the third time this month, honey.”

  Her forehead ached. “I'm fine. Just embarrassed.” She headed straight to the bathroom to assess the damage. Leaning close to the mirror, she saw her eyebrow already turning purple. Great.

  Since she'd had a rough morning, she opted for a power lunch of peanut M & M's, then worked nonstop until seven. After work, she headed to the mall to lift her spirits. As she strolled through the food court, the smell of fresh pretzels lured her to the Aunt Annie's stand. She made a dinner of two large pretzels, swearing she'd start her diet Monday morning.

  Continuing through the hallowed halls, she spotted a pair of hot pink Lily Pulitzer sling-backs. Something pulled her into the store to try them on, for the heck of it. They fit perfectly, so she decided they'd be a pre-reward for her upcoming diet.

  “Will that be cash or charge?” the skinny blonde sales clerk asked in a babyish voice, staring straight at Renee's bruised left eye.

  “Charge.” Who needed stupid Dan the cheater? She had the hottest pink sling-backs ever. Unfortunately, she also had half a dozen charge cards nearly at their limits.

  * * * * *

  By the time Saturday arrived, Renee was more than ready for her workweek to be over. A bride-to-be got a set of pink and white acrylics and a pedicure, while the mother of the bride was with Chantelle, having a manicure and pedicure.

  Next she did a fill for Pamela, one of her regulars. She got to hear the ups and downs of Pam's relationship with a cheating fireman, which usually made her thankful she was done with Dan.

  “Pablo's father really wants him to marry this girl from Texas, a friend of the family.” Pam slouching in the chair. “You know, like an arranged marriage.”

  “You're pulling away again, Pam.” Renee regarded the woman. She was in her early thirties with about forty pounds to spare. Way too pretty to be putting up with crap from a man who sounded like a low down dirt bag.

  “If his dad wasn't so old and sick, I think he wouldn't even consider it. But you know how he is, he doesn't want to disappoint them.” Pam brushed a stray strand of streaked blonde hair away from her cornflower blue eyes. “Apparently she's coming for a little visit next week. Her family is from the same town in Puerto Rico as Pablo's.”

  “You've got to dump him, now.” Renee shook her head as she filed the acrylic smooth. “How many times has he cheated on you? Now he might just marry this other chick.”

  “He swears he won't. But…I don't know. I wish I could stay away, I just can't. I bought him a gold bracelet the other day. That'll be his Christmas present.”

  “Oh, Pam. What did you do that for? He didn't get you anything last year. And you got him that health club membership. Remember?”

  “Yeah, I remember. But he probably doesn't. Chances are, he'll get me the same thing he gave me last year. Why is it that you remember this stuff, but he doesn't?” Her sigh held years of pain. “Oh well, it's only money.”

  “It's more than that, and you know it. The expense is the least of it.” She thought about Dan. What would she do if he wanted her back? She wanted to think she'd tell him to screw off, but she couldn't be sure.

  After she finished with Pam, she joined Chantelle and Zoey in the tiny kitchenette and had a veggie sub from the shop two doors down. Skinny little Zoey ate three crackers wi
th peanut butter and two bites of salad before declaring herself full. So unfair.

  “Remember my mom's new boyfriend who I told you about, the rich one?” Chantelle said to no one in particular. Both Renee and Zoey nodded as if they remembered. “Turns out he's married. Mom snooped through his wallet while he was sleeping and it was a good thing she did. I'm gonna do that with my next boyfriend.”

  Zoey took the bait. “What did she find?”

  “A photo of him with a wife, three kids and four grandkids. The dumb ass even dated it. It was taken a month ago. I told her something was up with him 'cause he never took her to his place. Said he had roommates he didn't want to disturb. Told her he used his cell for his home phone. Never believe 'em when they tell you that, girls.”

  “I guess he did have a roommate he didn't want to disturb—his wife,” Renee said. “Aren't there any men out there who don't cheat or have a secret life?”

  “My Adam is true blue.” She folded her arms and held her head high. “We've been together for five years now.”

  Chantelle narrowed her eyes. “Five years? How old are you? You don't look old enough to have been dating for five years.”

  “I'm twenty-five. I just have a baby face.”

  “Well, I'm done with men.” Renee waved a hand in the air. “They're either cheaters, liars or they throw you over for the cutest bimbo they can find. All the good ones are taken, so all of us single girls are just sifting through a sea of rejects.”

  “Whoever he was, he must have really hurt you” Zoey jumped off the stool. “There's my client. See you later, girls.”

  Chantelle crumpled the paper that had held a turkey sub. “She's too young to have had her teeth kicked in by a man, yet.”

  “You're right.” Renee popped a chip into her mouth. “Although it seems like some girls have great guy karma while the rest of us don't. Look at Becky. Her ex still sends her birthday cards, for God's sake. She has like three or four ex-boyfriends who she still speaks to. I want to take a chainsaw to all my exes.”