Shame on It All

by Zane

“Bryce does look stupid,” Harmony concurred. “She looks like she stuck her finger in an electric socket.”

  They gave each other high fives and guffawed while Bryce told them both, “Bite me, heifers!”

  Lucky reluctantly went to bed, too. She and Bryce had shared a room when they were younger, but Bryce had said she was sick of listening to Lucky preach about black power and had moved her stuff into Harmony’s room. Lucky didn’t mind a bit. She appreciated the privacy because it gave her quiet time to read, plus she could hang up all the black posters she wanted. She grabbed a book about black inventors off her bookshelf, crawled up on her bed, and started reading. She knew the drama was far from over. Harmony and Bryce just loved to argue with each other.

  Harmony, Bryce, and Fatima changed into their night-clothes, smacking their lips and ridiculing one another the entire time. Bryce climbed on her bed while Harmony and Fatima managed to crowd onto the other twin bed together. Harmony reached over and turned off the lamp on the nightstand between the two beds. As soon as the lights went out, the tempers flared back up.

  “Bryce, I want you to know that I will never, ever forgive you for this shit!” Harmony blared out in anger. “Tomorrow, I’m taking all those ugly-ass wigs, especially the one you have on because it looks like Dorothy’s house from the Wizard of Oz fell on your damn head, and burning them out behind the barn.”

  “You and what army, hoe?” Bryce questioned. “Touch my wigs, Harmony, and I’ll tell Daddy what really happened.”

  “Hell, you might as well had already. You told him just about everything anyway.”

  “Not everything,” Fatima interjected, worrying about whether Mr. Whitfield would carry through with his threat and tattle to her parents.

  “Hmph, close enough,” Harmony uttered with disdain. “Daddy’s going to ground me for sure and it’s all your fault.”

  “I didn’t tell him you actually did do the nasty with Zachary on the hood of the car and that Fatima really did suck Tony’s dang-a-lang,” Bryce countered.

  Harmony clamped her eyes shut, trying to hold back her anger. She was so sick of Bryce following her every damn place. There was only a three-year difference between them, but it was significant since Harmony was a junior in high school.

  “Bryce, all I have to say is, I can’t wait until I go away to college. I’m leaving you, California, and all of your drama behind. I’m going to the East Coast. Probably Howard University in D.C.”

  “So am I,” Fatima added. “Harmony and I are going to take Washington, D.C., by storm.”

  “That’s cool,” Bryce hissed. “So, you’ll have a three-year head start, but I will follow you. You’ll never get rid of me. Not ever! When you take one of those big, gigantic, elephantine dumps like the ones you have after you eat Momma’s sticky oatmeal for breakfast, I’m going to be there to smell it!”

  “If you don’t shut up in there, I’m going to whup all three of you!” Chester yelled through the closed door, startling them because they hadn’t heard him come upstairs. “And, Bryce, stop talking about your momma’s cooking. You can’t even make a bologna sandwich without almost cutting off a finger. You have a lot of damn nerve. Talking about somebody’s cooking. Just for that, I’m making you cook dinner tomorrow. I want a roast with all the trimmings and a homemade apple pie. Since you thought you were too good to go over to Mrs. Harris’s tonight and bake, I’m making you do it tomorrow. I’m going to make sure I have some antacid on hand because I know it’s going to be all burnt up and nasty!”

  Bryce was about to say something sarcastic, but thought better of it. The last thing she wanted or needed was one of her daddy’s whuppings. She wasn’t even sweating the menu. She knew her mother wouldn’t ever allow her to cook a Sunday dinner or dinner period for that matter. She let out a heavy sigh and stared at the silhouettes of Harmony and Fatima sprawled out on the other bed. As much as she hated to admit it, she adored Harmony. Harmony was like a goddess in her eyes. Bryce always wanted to look just like her. Even though they favored quite a bit already, Bryce didn’t have the same style and demeanor as Harmony. Besides, Bryce knew Harmony would be a success at whatever career she chose. Bryce was determined to follow in her footsteps and she had the sneaking suspicion Lucky was just as determined to do the same.

  “Chester, leave those girls alone and come to bed,” Rachelle ordered from the master bedroom down the hall. “Enough is enough!”

  “Enough is enough nothing,” Chester mumbled, and strutted down the hall to join Rachelle in bed. He turned around and made a group announcement to the whole house. “I missed the ending of Starsky and Hutch, I’ve got hardheaded chaps running the damn streets at all times of the night with fast-ass boys, and Lucky thinks she’s Malcolmenia X. I can’t wait till breakfast. Some heads are gonna roll around here. You can take that to the bank. Shame on it all!”

  Part One

  Memorial Day Weekend

  1

  The Whitfield Sisters

  Ten Years Later

  Harmony was strategically positioned at the bar so she could view the front entrance of the BET Soundstage in Landover, Maryland. As usual, both of her trifling-ass younger sisters were late. That’s the very reason she never agreed to meet them for lunch during the week. She knew they would be at least a half hour late, take damn near an hour to eat because they would be too busy running their loud mouths, and spend another fifteen minutes on long-ass good-byes in the parking lot.

  However, it was a Saturday so it was all good. Besides, Harmony took pleasure from chillin’ at the bar alone. Her frozen daiquiri was the bomb, she’d spent the early-morning hours at the salon getting her hair and nails hooked up, and the brotha working magic behind the bar was so handsome, she wanted to give him a candlelight bubble bath and then lick him dry. She was wearing a new black, designer pantsuit and sporting that bad boy with some gold hoop earrings and black pumps. All things considered, what more could a sistah ask for?

  She was pondering that very thought and was halfway mesmerized by Ginuwine’s fine ass doing his rendition of Michael Jackson’s “She’s out of My Life” when someone slapped her upside the back of her head.

  Harmony swiveled around on her stool, ready to give some sorry mofo a tongue-lashing and possibly a knee to the groin. Instead, all she encountered was her crazy-ass sister.

  “Bryce!” Harmony exclaimed as she gave her a love slap across the cheek. “Gurlllll, I was about to go the hell off!”

  “Harmony, give me a break.” Bryce rolled her eyes. “You know good and damn well your ass is not about to go off on a complete stranger. Lucky and I, yes. Stranger, no.”

  “Hmph! You never know. I’ve been doing those Tae Bo tapes. I might drop-kick a nucca every now and then.”

  “The hell you say!” Bryce plopped down on the stool beside her, looking exhausted.

  Harmony eyed her sister up and down in awe, wondering how in the hell she got into the skintight, white bodysuit she was profiling in. “Damn, Bryce! You wear the tightest-ass clothes I’ve ever seen. Who are you supposed to be? Lil’ Kim or Foxy Brown?”

  Bryce flipped her the finger with one hand and waved the sexy-ass bartender over with the other one.

  “What can I get for you?” he asked. Bryce was immediately turned on by his deep voice.

  She leaned up over the bar and was all too obvious about peeping the dick size. “Well, actually, I’d like two drinks. A sloe screw followed by an orgasm. Unless, of course, you want to break a sistah off with the real thing.”

  “Damn, Boo!” He flashed a happy grin, realizing that freaks don’t always come out at night. “So it’s like that, huh?”

  “And you know this.”

  He sucked his teeth like a death-row inmate about to receive his last meal, a pussy burger with no mayo, and walked to the opposite side of the bar to retrieve the bottle of gin.

  Harmony gawked at their ghettoized version of Romeo and Juliet. “Bryce, have you no tact?”

  “No ta
ct at all,” Bryce proudly announced, and leaned up farther over the bar so she could peep the ass.

  He glanced at Bryce over his shoulder, licked his lips, and blushed.

  Harmony had a streak of jealousy in her, but hell would freeze over before she ever fessed up to it. She secretly admired that Bryce was so outgoing with the male species. Harmony was the shy, conservative type, but then again, she had an aggressive side. She’d proved that on Memorial Day weekend. She bit her bottom lip, reminiscing about the wickedness she’d done and wondered if either of her sisters would even believe her if she spilled the beans over lunch.

  “Here are your drinks,” the bartender said provocatively, placing two glasses in front of Bryce along with a number scribbled on a cocktail napkin. “And here is my number. Give me a call sometime so we can discuss the real thing.”

  He winked and walked off.

  “You know he’s a playa,” Harmony remarked. “He didn’t even ask your name. What are you gonna do? Call him and say, ‘I’m the hoochie who had on the white outfit so tight you could see my pubic hairs?’”

  “You’re just jealous ’cause he wants me.”

  “I doubt that, Sis! That man probably has more bitches than the electric company has switches.”

  “Whatever!”

  • • •

  Bryce and Harmony were busy checking out a matronly-looking woman on the video screen when Lucky pranced in sporting a Negro League baseball jersey and black, wide-legged jeans. Bryce thought it was so cool for the BET Soundstage to put people on the screens who were celebrating their birthdays and anniversaries. Most people only get ten minutes of fame in their entire life and that was one of them.

  Before Lucky could even attempt to hug one of them, Harmony was whisking toward the hostess station to see if they could get a table right that second, and Bryce was up and running with a drink in each hand.

  “Well, damn, chicas! I guess I’ll just show ya’ll some sisterly love later!” Lucky clucked her tongue in disgust.

  Bryce had a change of heart, turned around, and managed to hug Lucky without spilling the drinks. “Hey, Baby Sis! How’s it going?”

  Lucky returned the embrace and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Just chillin’, Sis. Med school is kicking my ass though.”

  “You’re a Whitfield and Whitfields never quit.”

  “Gurl, you ain’t never lied.”

  “Are you two coming sometime today or what?” Harmony brushed past them, following the hostess to their table.

  “What’s with her?”

  “Hell if I know, Lucky,” Bryce responded. “You know how Harmony gets when things aren’t picture-perfect. She lets emotions ball up inside her like a knot and then explodes.”

  Lucky nodded in agreement. “True that!”

  Once they were comfortably seated in a booth with their own little personal video screen kicking out various music videos, Harmony suddenly became peppy and almost scared both Lucky and Bryce half to death.

  “So, what’s new with you ladies?” She gleamed at them with her big, sepia eyes, and her natural beauty was never more forthcoming. “How’s school, Lucky?”

  “Fine.” Lucky only spoke one word because she sensed Harmony’s demeanor was the calm before the storm. She’d been through the ordeal too many times not to recognize it.

  “That’s great!” Harmony opened her menu and then glanced over at Bryce. “How are things going at the investment firm?”

  “Everything’s cool,” Bryce answered, waiting, too, for the other shoe to drop.

  “Marvelous!”

  Bryce and Lucky, who were seated on one side of the booth opposite Harmony, gave each other that uh-oh look.

  Harmony ignored their interchange. “I think I’ll have a crab-cake sandwich with some black beans and rice. I love their rice recipe.”

  Other than their ordering their food and another round of drinks, there was silence at the table for a few minutes. Lucky spent the quiet time checking out all the brothas walking past their table or lounging at the bar.

  The lack of conversation became too much for Bryce. “How are things at the temp agency, Harmony?”

  “Marvelous,” Harmony reiterated.

  Damn, not that marvelous again. Bryce sat there trying to figure out a way to break the ice.

  “I may not tell you this often enough, Harmony, but I’m extremely proud of you. Starting your own temp agency and everything.”

  Harmony crossed her freshly manicured hands on the table in front of her. “Thanks, Bryce. I’m very proud of you, too. Both of you.”

  Lucky was only halfway paying attention. She was caught up in Jon B’s “They Don’t Know” video.

  Harmony ignored her blatant disregard of the compliment. “So, what’s the younger generation been up to lately?”

  That comment didn’t hardly go unnoticed. Lucky put her hands on her hips out of pure habit, even though no one could see them underneath the booth, glared at Harmony, and objected, “You’re always on this younger-generation kick. You’re only three years older than Bryce and five years older than I am. Geesh!”

  “Well, I’m still older,” Harmony snapped back. “I would implore you to remember that.”

  “Implore?” Lucky put her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her palms. “Now I’m positive Bryce and I are in for it. You only start acting prissy and using big words when you’re pissed off.”

  “I’m not pissed off!” People in the adjoining booths began to stare, so Harmony lowered her voice to a near whisper and repeated, “I’m not upset.”

  “Whatever,” Bryce stated, and went back to watching videos.

  Harmony decided that she wasn’t even going out like that. She would show them. “For your information, I did something over the Memorial Day weekend that I’m very elated about.” Well, kind of elated about.

  “Really?” Bryce questioned with skepticism. “What might that be? Did you volunteer to feed the homeless or some other holier-than-thou activity?”

  Harmony threw daggers at Bryce through her eyes. “Very funny!” Bryce and Lucky both snickered. “Actually, I had sex. Wild, freaky sex. The sort that makes your hair frizz up and look like you lost a fight with the lawn mower.”

  Bryce and Lucky eyed each other before they both inquired, “And?”

  Lucky added, “You’ve been fucking Zachary since Momma thought Billy Dee Williams was the sexiest man alive. Big deal.”

  “Um, pardon me, gurlfriend,” Bryce interjected. “But Billy Dee is still the sexiest man alive. Did you see the way his ass cheeks looked in those suits in Mahogany and Lady Sings the Blues?”

  “Zachary and I broke up over a month ago,” Harmony blurted out while she had the nerve.

  “Say what, Sis?” Bryce was all ears, completely forgetting about Billy Dee. “You and Zachary broke up? Fa reallllllllllllllll?”

  “Yes, we mutually decided the most feasible solution was to part ways.”

  “Could you kill the big words and just get jiggy with it,” Lucky snapped. “It’s hard enough to understand your ass half the time as it is. Why did you guys split? Was he going downtown to only window-shop and not actually buying anything?”

  Bryce and Lucky started snickering again.

  “You are so nasty,” Harmony hissed.

  “Hmph! If you only knew. Wait till you hear what I got into Memorial Day weekend. Better yet, it was more like what got into me.”

  “Well, what I did tops everything the two of you hoochies did put together,” Bryce boasted with pride. “Harmony, your hair might have been messed up and mine would have been tore da hell up, too, if I didn’t have this fly-ass weave.”

  “It’s fly all right.” Harmony chuckled. “Fly if the person looking at it is half-blind in one eye and can’t see a damn thing out the other one.”

  Bryce flipped Harmony the finger. “Whatever, heifer.”

  Lucky reached over the table, giving Harmony a high five. “Good one, Sis!”


  Bryce rolled her eyes and smacked her lips. “Like I was saying, what I did put whatever you two did to shame. My hair was straight, as always, but my makeup was smeared like crazy afterwards.”

  “What is this? A hoe competition?” Harmony shook her head. “Shame on it all!”

  “Come off it, Harmony. So you got some wigger. Big fucking deal,” Bryce chided as she took another swig of her orgasm.

  “Okay, Bryce, forget it. I was going to tell you all the freaky shit I did, but I wouldn’t want to bore you.”

  Lucky’s eyes widened as she jumped up in her seat. “I wanna hear about the freaky shit you did! Who’d you fuck? Huh, huh? Who’d you fuck?”

  Harmony curtained her forehead, trying to hide her embarrassment while one of the male wait staff dispersed their plates to them off a large, brown tray.

  After he was out of earshot, Harmony glared at Lucky. “Calm the hell down!”

  “This is so damn silly.” Bryce added her two cents. “Harmony may have gotten some dick, but her ass didn’t do nothing freaky.”

  “Are you sure about all that, Bryce?” Harmony challenged her.

  “I’m damn sure.” Harmony started throwing eye daggers again. Bryce added insult to injury. “Hell, Zachary probably dumped your ass because you were boring the shit out of him in bed.”

  Lucky punched Bryce in the ribs with her elbow. “That’s a low blow, even for you.”

  Bryce turned her attention to her steaming-hot platter of baked fish. “Whatever!”

  Lucky started chowing down on her Cajun shrimp, but Harmony didn’t even pick up her fork.

  “Harmony, could you stop staring at me like that while I’m trying to eat?” Bryce rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue. “You’re getting on my last nerve. Geesh, if looks could kill.”

  “If looks could kill, you’d be one dead hoochie. And keep that nasty tongue of yours in your mouth. We don’t need any germs floating all over our food. There’s no telling where your tongue has been lately.”

  “Whatever!” Bryce took a swig of her drink. “It’s been someplace your tongue hasn’t. That’s for damn sure. Licking all over a big, juicy, elephantine dick. Your ass is too prissy to suck dick. That’s why Zachary flew the coop.”