Boss Lady

by Omar Tyree

  I said, “So . . . now what happens?”

  We both had to breathe in between our words like sprinters at a track meet. I didn’t have the faintest idea of how it all worked next. All I knew was that plenty of girls had gotten strung out afterward, while guys only seemed to beat their chests like some kind of King Kong movie.

  Anthony said, “Well . . . we rest for a while . . . and then if you want . . . we can do it again.”

  That wasn’t exactly the answer I was looking for, but I definitely wanted to try it again, if just to see if it would feel the same way it did the first time.

  I said, “Okay . . . but this time, we have to take my dress off first.”

  He chuckled and said, “All right . . . I’m sorry. I guess I have to pay to take it to the cleaners now.”

  That was the other thing I had heard. Guys start making promises that they rarely keep, and then they complain about it when you remind them that they made it. And I didn’t even ask for him to take my dress to the cleaners.

  Exhausted

  I slept all the way into the afternoon that Sunday, and I had to hide my dress in the trunk of my car until I could take it to the cleaners sometime that week. I was also sore around my private parts, walking carefully and gingerly so as not to bring any attention to myself around Tracy.

  I met up with her at the kitchen table after lunch, where I ate Frosted Flakes with milk, and she drank a cup of coffee. She had just gotten in herself.

  After a few minutes of silence around each other, she asked me, “What club did you all go to last night?” She was just starting a conversation. She wasn’t probing or anything.

  I said, “I didn’t go to a club.” I didn’t feel like making up anything. However, I didn’t plan on telling her the truth either. I still wanted to talk to her about all the things Yolanda hipped me to at the party.

  I told her, “I didn’t feel like clubbing it up last night. All I could think about was the Flyy Girl project.”

  Tracy pulled the cup of coffee away from her lips and shook her head.

  She said, “Girl, you have to learn to let the pieces fall where they fall. You thinking about this movie all of the time is not going to make it happen any sooner.”

  I said, “Well, when is it gonna happen? My friends all want to know the same thing. I mean, we went to Philly and did all of that to do what?”

  “To start our preproduction,” she told me.

  “Well, how long is the preproduction stage?”

  “Sometimes producers can build a film for years.”

  “This is not that kind of film,” I argued. “All we need is the money and the right people in place. I mean, what happened at the meetings you’ve already had? If you really even had them,” I hinted. Was it all a facade?

  Tracy asked me, “What are you trying to say, that I’ve been making things up for you?” She said, “I’ll tell you what happens at these meetings. They hee and haw about other projects that they really can’t even compare Flyy Girl to. And then they talk about what stars would work, or who wouldn’t work, and who is available to attach, and who is not available. And then we shake hands and smile at each other, only so the next set of assholes can come in with their movie ideas and do the exact same thing.”

  I said, “Well, if you knew that already, Tracy, then why take us to Philly and pretend like we were doing something important, when you already knew what we were up against?”

  Tracy stopped cold for a minute. She gathered her thoughts and looked me hard in the eyes. She said, “First of all, I’ve been telling you the same thing about this movie process for years now, and you still won’t get it through your thick skull. So I’m gonna call up Susan and get you in on a meeting with us. Then you can see exactly how things flow out here for yourself. Okay?”

  I nodded to her. “Okay.” I surely wasn’t going to back down from the challenge. A Hollywood meeting was what I had been asking for.

  She said, “Now, second, I wanted to go to Philly for myself just to see if Flyy Girl is still a viable film to get excited about. I mean, I haven’t done a book signing or whatever for Flyy Girl in years, so I needed to see if people were still even interested in it.”

  She said, “There’s been a ton of new books about urban girls that have come out since Flyy Girl was first published ten years ago, including Sister Souljah’s Coldest Winter. So going back to Philadelphia for a casting call was a litmus test for me.

  “And third, I wanted to see what all of the people who were a part of my life story would think about bringing it back to life. Maybe some of them wouldn’t want to relive the past. I still haven’t talked to Kiwana about it. So yeah, maybe she doesn’t think it’s a great idea because of the wayward sexuality of my youth. I would have to deal with that all over again myself.”

  She said, “So I am not going to allow you to sit here and tell me that I’m not interested in making my story into a feature film, because I am. I just happen to know that it’s a lot more complicated than you think it is. And I also understand all of Hollywood’s shortcomings when it comes to black America films, so I’m pacing myself for the long haul.”

  I heard everything she said, and I was sympathetic to her points, but at the same time, I didn’t feel the need to pace myself. I was still young enough to be gung-ho and reckless. And I’m sorry, but sex was a part of life, and a major reason why so many girls connected to the book. It was all the stuff of reality.

  I said, “Well, I’m just ready to do these meetings so I can find out for myself what you already know. So you and Susan set them up, and I’ll be there with my notes ready.”

  I mean, I was really crazy about getting this movie done no matter what my cousin had to say.

  Tracy just stared at me. But I was still determined. I had no choice. I had to make something work for the sake of my family. I had promised it to them, and I owed them. But not only was I pushing for my family, I was pushing for myself and for thousands of urban girls who had a story to tell about their lives in America. We existed! And we wanted everyone to know that we had something to say.

  Tracy suddenly smiled and shook her head again.

  I said, “It’s not a laughing matter to me. It’s more like life or death.”

  She said, “Whose life or death, Vanessa? Because you’re surely not going to die if this movie doesn’t get made tomorrow. So who are we talking about?”

  “I’m talking more about the life or death of our ideas, loves, struggles, and our existence, Tracy. How come everyone else gets a chance to show they exist but us?”

  “Who’s everyone else? There are plenty of people who haven’t had their individual stories told. And movies are not the vehicle to correct history or to show that people exist. They’re movies to entertain people. If they do more, then great. But don’t count on it, because people will surely disappoint you. They don’t want these movies to do much more than entertain them. And those who complain the most about them are the same people who rarely even go to the damn movies to support a good one.”

  I stared back at Tracy and couldn’t believe that she had gone there. She sounded closer to Yolanda Felix than to the go-for-it cousin I used to know. Maybe she was only out to protect her assets now like Yolanda said.

  I said, “So the struggle to do the right thing for art’s sake, and for the people’s sake, is all over with now. Is that it?”

  Tracy took another breath. “Vanessa,” she said, “I am so tired of going through this same shit with you. There is no movement going on here, okay? This is not the Black Power era where we’re making movies for this or that purpose. I’m sorry, but we missed the boat on that. And the people just don’t care about that anymore.”

  She said, “Now you’re gonna have your chance to tell your story one of these days, and I hope they care about what you have to say. Because I already told mine, and just maybe, it will be better off told in a book, where everyone can still read it and know that yes, black girls do exist, and think, a
nd feel. So let’s just agree to disagree on this. Okay?”

  Yeah, my cousin was done all right. She had run out of gas. So I decided to put the Flyy Girl film on my own shoulders to take it as far as I could take it. Nevertheless, it was still her story.

  I said, “So once we have this studio meeting next week sometime, and I start to get things going with the film myself, will you back me on it?”

  Tracy looked into my eyes again and read how staunch I was in my determination.

  She said, “Okay. If you can get things rolling on your own, then you can count on my full support.”

  I said, “So, in essence, if I get this film moving forward, then I would become a producer and you would be more or less working for me?”

  I was attempting to throw all of the realities of the situation together.

  Tracy read my logic and began to smile. She said, “I can see where you’re going with this. But yeah, if you become a producer on this project, then we all end up working with you: the writer, director, camera crew, PAs, everybody. Is that what you want?” she asked me.

  I answered, “I just want to get things done. And if that’s what it takes, then so be it.”

  And I went back to eating my cereal in silence.

  Tracy eyed me a few seconds longer and chuckled again. I guess she thought it was all cute and humorous, but I was taking things a lot more seriously than that.

  * * *

  I was jotting down new and improved ideas in my notepad, while sending and returning emails from the computer station in Tracy’s home office when my cell phone rang. It was late that Sunday, and I was already on the job, taking over as the producer of Flyy Girl the movie. It was now obvious that my cousin was not really up for the task, and she had been blowing smoke in my face the whole time.

  “Hello,” I answered my cell phone.

  “Hey, Vanessa, what’s up?”

  It was Alexandria.

  “Hey, Alex. I’m just sitting here going through some stuff, and emailing Flyy Girl fans with our movie questionnaire on who they would like to see in the roles and why. You know, just trying to keep it going.”

  I had a list of a couple hundred responses already, and I was pumped with energy to collect a few hundred more before the big studio meeting.

  Alexandria said, “Oh.” She didn’t seem too interested in what I was doing. But that was okay. I already understood that I would be doing most of the work. That was just my legacy. I wasn’t even going to complain about it anymore.

  I said, “So, what’s up with you?”

  I had three things going on at once: my notes, the emails, and now Alexandria on the phone.

  I said, “You know what, let me call you back on the office phone instead of using my cell phone, because I’m sitting right here next to it, and there’s no sense in me using this cell phone for no reason.”

  Alexandria grunted and said, “Okay. Whatever suits you.”

  She sounded glum for some reason. I immediately suspected that something had gone wrong with my cousin Jason. We just left them alone and allowed them to be a couple, because their attraction was not going away overnight. Even Tracy understood that after a while.

  I said, “Okay, I’ll call you right back,” and hung up to use the office phone.

  As soon as I got Alexandria back on the line, I asked her, “Did you get into a fight and break up with Jason over something petty?”

  I was assuming things. I knew she had flown back out to Philadelphia by herself to see him a few weeks ago. And Jason was scheduled to stay with us for a week right before the fall semester of school in late August. It would be his final nine credits at Temple University, for a degree in business, after changing his major three times. Alexandria was going into her senior year at USC in fashion and design, after changing her major twice. Although she seemed to wear more fashion and design than create it, with Charmaine around to run the Flyy Girl Ltd. office, Alexandria figured she was set to learn on the job.

  She answered, “No, we didn’t have a fight. But something else happened, and I needed someone to talk to about it.”

  I hesitated a minute. I needed to gauge how serious it was.

  I prepared myself and said, “Okay, shoot.”

  She said, “This is between me and you until I figure out what to do. Okay?”

  That made me even more skeptical, but I had to hear her out first.

  “Okay, just tell me what it is.” I was a little short with her because I was busy at the moment.

  She said, “Well, when we were in Philadelphia the first time and, you know, we got into things or whatever, on one time, you know, the condom broke.”

  I heard her, and I thought about a condom breaking, and I needed to hear the rest.

  “Okay . . . and?”

  “At first, we didn’t really sweat it, but when I didn’t get my period last month . . .”

  “So, you’re . . .” I didn’t even want to say it out loud. Tracy was still at the house and could have heard me through the walls or something. I don’t know. I just wanted to be careful.

  Alexandria said, “I found out this morning when I took one of those home pregnancy tests.”

  “Are you sure it was accurate? I mean, are those things really foolproof?”

  She said, “I took it twice today to make sure.”

  “And both times . . .”

  “Yup. It’s positive,” she confirmed.

  I didn’t know what to say. All of a sudden, I stopped everything else that I was doing.

  Then I started to whisper to her, “Does he know?”

  “Not yet. I wanted to talk to you first.”

  “So nobody knows but us.”

  She said, “Madison knows, too.”

  “Well, what did she say?”

  “She was the one who guessed it when I missed my period. But I had missed it before so I wasn’t sure. I mean, I didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but Maddy had an abortion before, so she recognized the changes that I was having this month.”

  I don’t know if I was supposed to know that, but since Alexandria had told me, I had to go with the information.

  “Is that what you’re thinking about doing?”

  She said, “Well, I thought about when you had asked me in Philadelphia if I would have babies for your cousin, and I had said I would. So . . . I mean, unless he doesn’t want me to.”

  Shit! Shit! Shit! I panicked to myself. My question to Alexandria up in Philly was now backfiring on me. And Tracy was sitting there right next to me when I asked her that craziness. What the hell was I thinking? I guess I thought Alexandria wouldn’t want babies so soon. But maybe that was my own thinking and I had incorrectly assumed that it was hers as well.

  “Well, what do you think he’s going to say?” I asked her.

  “I don’t know. What do you think? You know your cousin, don’t you?”

  I said, “Not like that. Jason was always playful and immature to me. I mean, I don’t see him the way you see him. And that’s a major part of this problem. I still feel like you guys hooked up a little too fast.”

  As soon as I said that, I thought about my own hookup with Anthony the night before. But at least I knew him from school first. Then again, we had only been on speaking terms before. It wasn’t like I really knew him. He could have been a male gigolo waiting to take women up to his room for pay for all I knew, because he damn sure knew what he was doing in bed. Yolanda would pay him for it. And I began to wonder what kind of videos he had been doing with such a large dick.

  Alexandria told me, “Like I said, I just clicked with Jason. I mean, he does have a serious side to him. He’s not all fun and games all the time. He gets mad when he needs to, and I like that. I like a lot of things about him.”

  Obviously, I thought to myself.

  I said, “Okay, so now you need to talk to him. But before you do, I just wanna know, how do you feel about . . . you know?”

  I still didn’t want to say the word pre
gnancy while Tracy was still somewhere in the house.

  Alexandria caught on to my question. She said, “I mean, I would have it.”

  “And then what?” I asked her.

  “I mean, I could move to Philadelphia or he could move out here. We’re already doing that.”

  “And then what?” I asked her again. She really needed to think the whole thing through.

  “And we get married, I guess.”

  “You guess? Do you know if he wants to do that.”

  “We talked about it.”

  I said, “Yeah, but were you playing make-believe house, or were you talking about it for real?”

  We all played those little house games with guys, where you assume the roles of a married couple, but that didn’t make it real. And Alexandria needed to understand that.

  She said, “I thought about a lot of things with Jason. I mean, I know that we’re gonna have very healthy and attractive children. They’ll have a sense of humor. Good families surrounding them.”

  I said, “But what about you? How do you really feel about this? How do you really feel about him?”

  I didn’t want to hear all of that talk about family. Alexandria was doing exactly what I thought she was doing, playing house. But she needed to think about how she would feel in an everyday relationship as a wife, a mother, and a woman. It wasn’t some overnight decision to make.

  She said, “I love being around Jason. And I feel connected when I’m with him.”

  “Connected?” What was she talking about? “Connected like how?” I asked her for clarity.

  She paused to gather her thoughts. She said, “Well, I can’t even lie to you about it, Vanessa. When I first met Jason, I was like, ‘Wow, he really looks good.’ And I liked his personality and everything, but he was also family to you guys. So that’s what made me feel even closer to him. I mean, I don’t just jump for guys like that. You know me better than that. But with Jason, it was, like, he was family. And he just came on to me in that way, like, we’re already supposed to know each other or something.

  “So I liked that idea of being connected to you guys through Jason,” she explained to me. “And I know that Tracy wasn’t feeling me or whatever, but she could get past that because Jason really does like me. I mean, it’s real. I can tell by how he looks at me. I can tell by how he makes love to me. I mean, we’re just what we are.”