The Johnson Sisters

by Tresser Henderson

  About five minutes later, Sheldon was walking in my bedroom. “I swear you need to find something else to do other than cuddle in your bed all the time,” Sheldon said, coming in. Then he saw me holding a glass. “And you are drinking. You didn’t tell me that.”

  “I didn’t think it was important.”

  “Of course it is when I might want some.”

  “Sorry. This bottle is all mine. If you want one of your own, you can get it out the fridge,” I told him.

  “Not even a sip?” Sheldon asked, walking over and picking up the bottle of wine from the bucket.

  “Here, boy,” I said, handing him my glass. “And only a sip. I know how you do. You will gulp that—”

  Before I could get those words out of my mouth, Sheldon downed the wine, leaving my glass empty once again. I frowned at him like, “Really?”

  “Sorry, Viv. I needed it after the night I’ve had,” he said, handing me the empty glass.

  “Trust me. I’ve had the same type of night,” I retorted. “Well, you look nice,” I complimented him, looking at him wearing a pair of dark denim jeans, a black shirt, a black leather jacket, and black Timberlands.

  “Thank you,” he said, kicking off his boots. He took his jacket off, tossing it on my bench at the foot of my bed. “You know I had to come over here and tell you about my date,” Sheldon said, coming over to the bed and climbing in.

  “Boy, are you clean? I don’t want no other woman’s remnants in my bed,” I told him.

  “Viv, I’m good. You know I know better than that,” he said, crawling next to me.

  “Okay. I’m just checking. You know you have before,” I said, pouring me another glass of wine.

  “That was so long ago,” he said, smiling.

  I looked at him like, “Boy, please.”

  “So why is your date over so soon?” I asked. “I thought you would be taking her home and hanging out like you do.”

  “Viv, it was the Nightmare on Elm Street reincarnated through this woman,” he said jokingly. “I’m never going on a blind date again.”

  “What? Did she look like Freddie Krueger or something?”

  “No, this woman wasn’t bad looking at all.”

  “So what was the problem?” I asked.

  He sighed, tilting his head like he didn’t want to say, and just his hesitation made me burst into laughter. I said to him, “Sheldon, it couldn’t have been that bad.”

  “Yes, it was. Like I said, this woman was cute and had a nice little shape on her, but her mouth . . .”

  “What about her mouth?” I asked.

  “I thought Phoenix and Shauna cursed a lot, but this chick had ‘motherfuck this’ and ‘fuck that’ flying out of her mouth to the point I was embarrassed to be around her. And I curse,” Sheldon said.

  I laughed.

  “Not only did she curse a lot, Viv, but she revealed to me she had eight kids,” he said, holding up eight fingers.

  “Eight?” I asked, frowning.

  “Yes, eight with seven different baby daddies.”

  “She told you this?”

  “Yes,” he yelled like he still couldn’t believe it. “Who admits something like that on the first date?”

  “Didn’t she know that was a date killer?”

  “Right,” he agreed. “And, Viv, she was only twenty-nine. All night I kept thinking how in the hell do you have eight kids by thirty? You know I love kids, but eight?” Sheldon said, causing me to giggle. “I thought one of her kids was going to interrupt our dinner, singing the song, ‘One, two, my daddy’s coming for you. Three, four, gonna lock the door. Five, six, trying to get your chips.’”

  I burst into laughter again, happy that Sheldon had taken me out of my dreadful mood. He always knew how to do this, even if it sometimes came at the expense of his horrible dates.

  “I was looking for a little girl wearing that same dress that kid wore in Nightmare on Elm Street for real, Viv. I was scared.”

  “Boy, you weren’t scared.”

  “Like hell I wasn’t,” he said seriously.

  “Where did y’all go to eat?” I asked.

  “Cheddars. You know I love their croissants.”

  “And you didn’t bring me any?”

  “Damn. I did. I brought nine. I left them in the car. I’ll get them in a minute.”

  “I’m not going to eat nine croissants,” I said.

  “I got them for the both of us. Did you make that gumbo like you said you were?”

  “Yes, it’s some left. I made sure to save you some.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Thanks for looking out, because I know Phoenix would have taken all them leftovers home with her,” Sheldon said.

  “Oh, believe me, she tried, but I hid some before they all got here. It eliminates one less issue between us.”

  “So tonight was crazy?” he asked. “I can tell by your mood and your bottle of bubbly.”

  “Was it? Why did Dawn tell us she’s getting married?”

  “To who?” he asked in astonishment.

  “Corey of all people,” I revealed.

  “Cheater cheater pussy-eater.”

  “Sheldon!”

  “Well, that’s what he’s known for in the streets. Dude dives down more than a SCUBA instructor giving diving lessons. Why you think he gets so many women? They’re trying to see what the tongue feels like.”

  “You didn’t have to say it like that. You can’t say coochie or poon-poon?” I joked.

  “Viv, what I look like saying coochie? I’m a man for goodness’ sake, and I say pussy,” he retorted.

  “I forgot who I was talking to,” I replied, taking a sip of my wine.

  “Evidently you did. Now, did you tell Dawn she lost her damn mind?” Sheldon asked, lying down on his left side to face me, propping himself up on the pillows.

  “Of course. I think the only one who didn’t really argue tonight was Phoenix.”

  “Tell me you’re lying.”

  “I’m serious. She made her little comments, but me, Shauna, and Serena had it out with Dawn.”

  “Phoenix always got something smart to say,” Sheldon said.

  “I know, but tonight she was too busy spitting gumbo all over my kitchen.”

  “Okay. That explains it. She was busy laughing her ass off, huh?”

  “Basically. Shauna was the one who lost it tonight. She got so mad at Dawn she told her she’s not going to have anything to do with the wedding,” I told him.

  “Daaaaamn. Y’all really went at it.”

  “That wasn’t even the half. Dawn decided to tell us about ourselves and ended up throwing all of us under the bus.”

  “How?” Sheldon asked.

  “Well, I’m being used by men. Serena was stupid for having her baby by a man who already has a kid out of wedlock. Shauna’s dumb enough to be with a woman-beater. And Phoenix is a whore who’s never going to be good enough to be any man’s wife,” I recapped.

  “Daaaamn. Dawn took it there for real. I wish I was here to play referee. It would have been better than my nightmare of a date.”

  “It gets worse,” I said.

  “Viv, I don’t think it can get worse than that.”

  “Believe you me it did. Shauna lost it. I mean, she blacked the hell out. She brought back so much stuff I wanted buried from our past that I think only Jesus Himself needs to come down here and be the intermediary between them two now. I feel like this will cause a major rift between us sisters.”

  “Please tell me she didn’t mention anything about Dawn’s mother?” Sheldon asked.

  I nodded, saying, “She took it there. And now I don’t know how to fix it.”

  “First off, Viv, you can’t fix it. It’s not up to you to fix everything. All you can do is be the big sister you are. You are putting too much pressure on yourself. Pray about it and let God handle it.”

  Sheldon was right. I always wanted things perfect, even t
hough I knew this wasn’t a perfect world we lived in. It did feel good talking to him about it. Sheldon knew everything about how we grew up. I told him about Daddy cheating on Mom and having a child outside his relationship. I told Sheldon everything. Well, almost everything.

  “Enough about my night. What did you do? Because I know you did something. Did you leave her sitting at the table? Because you’re good for ditching a woman,” I said, looking at Family Guy on Cartoon Network.

  “I was a gentleman this time. I stayed as long as I could stand her, and then I was honest and told her I had somewhere else to be. She didn’t seem happy and made it known.”

  “How?” I asked.

  “Viv, she went off on me in the middle of this restaurant, talking about I was leaving her to go sleep with some other woman.”

  “Shut up,” I said, putting my hand to my mouth.

  “She said she felt disrespected because she was really feeling me and was hoping our relationship was going to go to another level.”

  “Damn, she was getting ready to make you baby daddy number eight,” I said, laughing.

  “I felt like that too. I only knew this chick for a couple of hours and she acted like we had been dating for years. You know I hate confrontation because of my temper, Viv. I told you on several occasions I need anger management.”

  “Boy, do I know,” I said sarcastically. “So what did you do?”

  “I tried to be nice,” Sheldon explained.

  “What did you do?” I asked again.

  “I called her out her name and told her she didn’t know me like that.”

  “And?” I said, knowing there was more.

  “And I told her she was a whore and needed to learn how to keep her legs closed and I wouldn’t sleep with her if her pussy spit out hundred-dollar bills.”

  “Sheldon!” I yelled, hitting him on the arm.

  “She deserved it. She screamed on me until I exited the restaurant. I don’t know if I can ever show my face there again.”

  “Take me next time,” I said jokingly.

  “They might turn me away at the door once they see me coming with another female,” he said, causing me to laugh.

  “Well, I’m glad you escaped without any charges being filed.”

  Sheldon was so nice and sweet, but don’t let his laidback demeanor fool you. He really did need anger management. I think he liked confrontation. His frame alone was intimidating, since he lifted weights a few times a week. He wasn’t real big, not like those weightlifters looked with veins popping out of their necks. Sheldon had a nice build, but his size was threatening to some people.

  One time Sheldon and I went to the grocery store to get items to have a hot dog night, so we could chill and watch movies. While we were in the bread aisle looking for some hot dog buns, this middle-aged Caucasian man came walking up and stopped right in front of us, blocking our view. Sheldon looked at me, pointing at the dude like, “What the hell?”

  “It’s okay,” I said, upset by this man’s ill manners also, although I couldn’t show this because I knew how Sheldon was. He wasn’t racist, but as an African American man, he felt like he was always been targeted. I do believe this has been the case sometimes. So when it came to some races, he felt like he needed to be on guard, and for this man to blatantly stop dead in front of us like we were a nonfactor ticked both of us off. One disrespectful person doesn’t define an entire race in my book, and Sheldon believed this too, but when things like this happened, his judgment sometimes got clouded.

  “Yo, my man. You didn’t see us standing here looking for bread too?”

  The man turned and looked at Sheldon but didn’t say a word. Then he turned back around like Sheldon didn’t say anything. I knew it was going to be on now. Here was the nonfactor situation that this man put us in, and Sheldon was about to let him know the true facts about the type of man he was.

  Sheldon stepped around the dude, getting all up in the man’s face. “Did you hear me talking to you, man?” he asked furiously as the man backed up fearfully now. “Where are your damn manners?”

  “Don’t make me call the cops,” the man said.

  “You see, Viv, this is the type of shit I’m talking about. The man sees I’m black and immediately thinks the cops need to be involved,” Sheldon addressed me.

  “Sheldon, it’s okay. Let him get his bread and go.”

  Sheldon turned his attention back to the middle-aged man and asked “How are you going to dial the cops with broken fingers and the ability to not say nothing once I knock all your damn teeth out your mouth?” Sheldon threatened.

  “I just came here for some bread.”

  “So did we, before you rudely stood in front of us. Now, I would advise you to get the hell out of here, but not before apologizing to this young woman.” Sheldon gestured toward me.

  The man ended up saying he was sorry. He looked at me when he said it, because Sheldon was still up in his face. I nodded it was okay, but I did that because I wanted this to be over. I didn’t want Sheldon to get in trouble.

  “Sheldon, he said he was sorry. Step back and let the man get his bread,” I told him.

  Sheldon listened, and the man left without any bread. I was waiting for management or security to come and escort Sheldon out of the store, but no one ever came, thank goodness.

  Then there was the night we went out to a bar for drinks and this dude wasted a drink on Sheldon’s back. Instead of apologizing, the guy started laughing like it was funny. Sheldon punched the guy in the face, breaking his nose. Sheldon ended up with an assault charge, having to pay the man’s medical bills. So yes, he did need to get some help for his anger.

  “Viv, I’m going outside to get the bread. Can you heat up some gumbo and we can have a little pajama party?” he asked.

  “You don’t have any pajamas.”

  “I came prepared. I packed a bag just in case to come over here. So I brought some.”

  “Well, aren’t you the one who plans ahead?” I said.

  “I knew it in my gut that this date wasn’t going to work, and I was right. I should have stayed here and ate dinner with y’all.”

  “We can eat now. Go get my bread and I’ll heat us up some gumbo,” I said, pulling the covers back to get up and go into the kitchen. I drank the last bit of wine that was in my glass.

  Sheldon jumped up too, sliding on his boots to go get the bread. My night had turned around quickly, and I was happy for the diversion. Thanks to Sheldon, my evening was turning out to be a good one after all.

  Chapter 18

  Dawn

  Just when I didn’t think my night could get any worse, I was being pulled over by the police. I merged over to the shoulder of the road, with the police car doing the same. I did not need this right now. I wiped at the tears that were steadily falling from my eyes. More tears trickled down my face as I watched the officer walk up to my window and tap on it.

  “Good evening, ma’am,” the African American officer said, with his left hand holding a flashlight and the other hand on his gun.

  “Yes,” I said angrily, looking up at him. His skin was dark like chocolate. I scanned his body, which looked like he worked out. The uniform was tight across his chest, and the silver shield identified him as Officer Winn.

  He shined the light around my car to see if anyone else was with me, which there wasn’t. “Can I see your driver’s license and registration please?” he asked.

  I reached into my glove compartment, retrieving my registration. I then pulled my license out of my wallet and handed both to the officer.

  He shined the light down on it and then asked, “Do you know why I pulled you over, ma’am?”

  “No, sir, I don’t.” I shrugged, answering him through tears, which were still trickling from my eyes.

  “Are you okay, ma’am?” he asked, bending down a bit to get a better look at me.

  “No, not really. I’ve had a really bad night,” I explained.

  “I’m sorr
y to hear that. And I’m pretty sure this isn’t making it any better,” he said kindly.

  “You would be correct.”

  “I’m just doing my job. I pulled you over because you were doing forty-two in a twenty-five mile an hour zone.”

  “Okay,” was all I could say. I was so defeated at this point I didn’t care. I was hurting. I was sad. I was angry. He stood there like he expected me to say something else or talk my way out of this, but I didn’t have any fight left in me. I wasn’t Phoenix, who would probably show some cleavage or pull out her breast to get a warning, or Shauna, who would probably cuss the officer out and get arrested. I was Dawn, the Dawn who had no fight left.

  The officer must have caught the hint and said, “Ma’am, I’m going to run your information. I’ll be right back.” He walked to his car and got in.

  I saw there was another officer with him and a camera on the dashboard, recording this violation. I lowered my head, willing the tears to stop falling, but they wouldn’t. As hard as I tried, the stress of my evening won and broke me down. I didn’t want to look up, because I didn’t want the people riding by, as their speed slowed after seeing the flashing lights, to see who it was who got pulled over. Just like I had done in the past, they were probably counting their lucky stars it wasn’t them.

  Minutes later, the officer was back at my car with a slip of paper, letting me know he went through with giving me the ticket. Great, I thought. Like I should expect anything less with the type of night I’m having. Let’s just add more things to my already terrible evening.

  “Sign here, ma’am. This is stating I stopped you for doing forty-two in a twenty-five mile an hour zone. Your court date is here if you want to dispute this. And here is the address you can mail your money to if you decide not to dispute it. There is a number here if you have any questions. Do you understand what I have told you tonight?”