Later that Day
“Mommy! Mommy!”
Sasha used her knuckles, the only part of her hand that wasn’t covered in marinara sauce to wipe a bead of sweat from her eyebrow.
“Mommy… I want more! I want more!”
“Okay, Bri-Bri, just give Mommy a minute, okay? Mommy’s hands are dirty.”
“Mommy, I want more!” Aubrey continued to yell in her squeaky voice as she sat at the kitchen table. Evidence of her recent doing, spilt tomato sauce, all over the floor and her clothes.
Sasha shook her head at the mess. “Why did you do this?” Reaching for a new roll of paper towels and trying not to dirty them, she held the roll between her chest and wrist and broke the seal. The paper towels immediately rolled to the floor landing right in the pile of sauce and soiling.
“I want more cheese! More cheese!”
Sasha let out a breath of exasperated air and kneeled down. Father, help me.
“Aubrey you have to wait. You spilled this sauce everywhere and Mommy has to clean it!”
Aubrey soaked in her mother’s words.
“Sowwy,” She mumbled dramatically, poking out her lip.
As Sasha attempted to clean the floor and her hands, she thought aloud.
“Daddy sure better appreciate this shit.”
It was Sasha and Chauncey’s anniversary. The day they always used to celebrate when they became an “official” couple. For Chauncey it was the day he cut off his other broads. It also was the day Chauncey had proposed to her, before the madness.
Sasha reached up and cleaned off Aubrey as best she could, then turned and disposed of the dirty towels in the trash. It wasn’t long before Aubrey started up again, the request which caused her to reach across the table and knock over the sauce in the first place.
“Mommy, I want cheeesee,” she whined as the phone began to ring.
“Aubrey…” Sasha said through clenched teeth. The last thing she was trying to raise was a whiner like herself. It was a trait she was hoping to break the cycle with. She answered the cordless and reached over and handed Aubrey a small piece of mozzarella, hoping to quiet her. “Hello…”
“What’s up, kid?”
Sasha let a smile through at the sound of Chauncey’s voice. All of this was in the end for him. She was looking forward to her and Aubrey surprising him with his “favorite” lasagna, and looking even more forward to the surprise she had once Aubrey went to bed.
“Nothing muchhh, what’s up with you?”
Sasha figured that Chauncey’s not mentioning their anniversary was a way for him to add to the suspense of whatever he had for her. Jewelry, Sasha concluded. It was always jewelry.
“Shit,” Chauncey answered blasé. “Hold up a minute…” He then addressed someone else. “Nah, put more ketchup on that for me, my man.”
“Chauncey!”
“What?”
“What are you doing?” She couldn’t help the urgency in her voice. She wanted to scream ‘put that back!’ He was ruining her surprise.
“I’m getting a cheesesteak from Vinny’s,” he responded nonchalantly.
“Why?”
“’Cause I’m hungry.”
“Look, don’t eat that babe… I cooked,” she confessed.
There was a brief silence.
“…That’s what’s up,” Chauncey told her. “I’ll eat that, too…when I get in.”
There’s a feeling a woman gets. It has to be her sixth sense. The feeling of knowing exactly what is going on with a man before he even says a word. The feeling of knowing devastation and knowing they are about to fuck up, but you can’t stop them. You can’t save them from themselves.
“And what time will that be?” Sasha’s voice let on that she already knew. Fed up was written all through it and around it.
“Uh…later on. Kinda late,” he admitted. “So don’t even wait up.”
“Don’t wait up? Is that what you have to say? Seriously Chauncey! On our anniversary?”
Silence. Shit, Chauncey thought to himself.
“Damn Sash, my bad. I forgot about that… Look, I’ll make it up to you this weekend. I promise.”
Sasha rolled her eyes. She was still waiting on him to make up dinner from the other day.
“You didn’t even remember, Chaunc?” She sounded hurt. “You always used to remember.”
She thought of everything he had said to her after she had found out about him and Neli, after she had married Mike and then made the decision to give her and Chauncey another go. How he would never hurt her again. How things would be different. But the saying ‘the more things change the more things stay the same’ had never rang more true for Sasha. The first few months were sweet but nine months had passed and Chauncey was comfortable. This was 2007 all over again and once again, the streets were his main bitch and his family was the mistress.
“C’mon Sash, don’t start that whining, ma. That anniversary shit was back in the day, before Bri. You acting like we married or something? It’s not even a real anniversary…it’s boyfriend, girlfriend shit,” he chuckled unaware of how hurtful his words were, like most men. “That shit is junior high. We bigger than that, baby.”
Sasha was about to bring up the fact that he hadn’t even mentioned marriage since they’d been back together, even though they were once upon a time engaged. She shook her head feeling the tears caught in her throat.
“Boyfriend, girlfriend, huh? Junior high? Whatever! Okay, so if that’s what it is, we’ll do it just like junior high. You know what that means? None of this! Cause ain’t no fucking in junior high. You can beat off. Matter of fact, sleep in the guest room! And the damn air conditioning is broke. Did you forget you were supposed to fix that, asshole!”
“Yo, who you talking to like that?”
“Mommy!” Aubrey screamed, intervening. “No bad word! …And more cheese!”
“You talking around my daughter like that?” Chauncey based, upset. “Watch ya fuckin’ mouth.”
“You watch your fuckin’ mouth, Chauncey!”
“Don’t curse at my daddy!” Aubrey intervened again.
“Aubrey, be quiet!” Sasha snapped, silencing Aubrey instantly. Her daughter’s defense of Chauncey angered her. She was the one who was always with her. She did everything for her. But Aubrey remained a Daddy’s girl.
“Yo, stop yelling at her!” Chauncey barked. “And I’ll send somebody to fix it, so calm down! I got shit to do. Why you don’t understand that is crazy. But you understand how to spend this money. Where you think it come from, Sasha?”
“I’m over this conversation Chauncey. So what if I know how to spend money. I’m always by myself, so what else is left to do but spend money? You know what…” Sasha could hear Chauncey suck his teeth and she was not in the mood for any more arguing. She wanted to wrap it up calm, and end as the bigger person. “You just better think real hard about what’s important Chauncey. And if this thing with Jayde and R-”
“Chill!” Chauncey yelled, cutting her off. Talking about any of that, or saying Ree’s name on the phone was a major no-no.
Sasha sighed and shook her head, trying not to lose her cool in front of Aubrey.
“I just hope this ends soon, Chauncey… Or we won’t last.”
Chauncey was quiet, taking in her words but trying not to let them penetrate. Once everything was set in motion, he would be able to spend more time with his family. Plus they were leaving for Jamaica in a few weeks for Tatum and Ree’s wedding, he knew the vacation would do them well.
“It’ll be alright, kid. Just… chill. I love you. Kiss Bri for me.”
Chauncey was about to end the call but right before he did, he added a solemn “…Happy Anniversary, princess.”
He hung up and Sasha listened to the dial tone for a while before doing the same. She looked over at the sauce and cheese, and all of her ingredients to her precious dinner and felt like hurling them across the wall. Then she looked at her beautiful daughter with her b
ig pom-pom puff on top of her head and she smiled at her.
“Mommy…more cheeeseee pleaseee,” Aubrey requested cutely with her hands pressed together in prayer fashion. Sasha smiled through her thoughts and went and gave her a big hug.
“Mommy’s sorry for saying that bad word, baby.” She handed her another piece of cheese and kissed her on the head. “But you gotta take Mommy’s side sometimes too, Bri-Bri.”
She stared at her pretty baby and felt the need to warn her prematurely.
“And don’t ever let a man put anything above you, baby…”
Just then the doorbell chimed and Sasha looked up, and then looked at Aubrey with a growing smile.
“Who’s that, Bri-Bri? Is that daddy?”
She began making her way to the door in haste.
Maybe Chauncey had reconsidered. Maybe he was going to surprise her. Maybe the whole thing was one big ploy. Reaching the door, Sasha opened it with a wide grin plastered on her gorgeous face. Upon revelation, the smile quickly deflated.
“What’s up? Where the air unit at?”
Sasha opened the door wider and let him walk in. It was Bleek.
“Girl you better had did ya thing. CBP!” – Kim, Thicker than Water
-5-
“In local news, everyone is greatly excited of the celebration coming our way tomorrow! Sean Knights, owner of the Knights estate and the Botanical Bay hotel and resort, who also happens to be the son of Leroy Knights, prominent figure in Jamaica’s social and political scene, will be married this week. The ceremony will be held at the historical Negril lighthouse. You know, rumor has it that Knights had the historical building, which as we natives are aware, overlooks the beaches of Negril and has been mostly used for tours and films, renovated for his lavish reception. The beach will also be closed off and secured by law enforcement for up to ten miles for the private nuptials. In case you’ve been living under a rock for these past months, Knights’ fiancé is American born Tatum Mosley, who we’ve been calling the “street girl” for non-obvious reasons. Yes, she has the new downtown row conveniently named Tatum Street, which holds the fine shops, apartments, and the new Kimberly museum being built. Of course, Knights funded all. Lucky, lucky...”
“Lucky, lucky,” Tatum repeated mockingly, drowning out the car radio by powering on Marsha Ambrosius’ latest. “Of course, Knights funded it all,” she repeated, making fun of the Jamaican accented radio host. “Of course the street girl can’t afford that. Of course.”
Ree chuckled as he drove through the busy streets, cloaked behind the tints of the Rolls Royce. He had allowed Crush to return to Atlanta and he would be bringing his family back to Jamaica for the wedding.
“I can tell them to stop calling you that if you want,” he suggested, never taking his eyes off the road.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah… Then who knows what they’ll call me,” she joked, laying her head back.
Tatum looked out of the window at the recognizable poverty of Jamaica.
Frail old women walking with no shoes and shopping carts. Shirtless children laughing and playing, covered in sweat and filth. And here she sat watching them from the comfort of her Rolls Royce like it was a movie. No matter how much they donated, or built, or helped, they’d always be on the other end of the spectrum. She thought of Ree’s status and how she was so clueless to it when she had first met him.
“How can you be so open here?” She questioned out of nowhere as she turned her head toward the man of hers. “I mean, look at this. Pictures in the paper…radio announcements… back in America you practically have to stay cramped up in the condo. And as soon as your business is handled, it’s right back to Jamaica. Why are you not private here?”
Ree shrugged.
“I don’t have to be. These are my people. They take care of me.” He looked over at Tatum. “Plus, when’s the last time you heard American news talk about Jamaica, or any other poor black country for that matter if it’s not about an earthquake, some natural catastrophe or some shit? They only care about us when something bad happens. Homes built, schools, museums, weddings, “street girls” with their own blocks named after them…” he shot her a wink. “…they could care less, baby.”
Tatum smiled lightly and looked away from him.
“Teach me something new every day,” she spoke.
Ree picked up her hand and brought it to his lips in a quick kiss.
“So do you.”
He looked over at her and thought she looked beautiful. Her long hair was brought up into a bun atop of her perfectly round head; her natural, soft baby hair flying loosely around her edges. She was make-up less, but her deep brown skin glowed like she had on hundred dollar foundation. She wore no jewelry, besides her massive engagement ring and a short black chiffon sundress adorned her frame. The hem stopped below her bust, and then flowed out masking the small waist he knew she possessed but hadn’t seen recently.
They drove another ten or so minutes in silence, as they neared the private airport. Seeing that she was deep in thought, Ree pulled a little distance from the landing strip and turned off the car.
“Tatum Mosley is awfully quiet,” he noted, dragging the words in his low baritone.
She giggled and looked over at him.
“Knights.”
“What up?” He shot.
“Nooo, Tatum Knights is quiet.”
“Why is she?” He asked staring at her. They kept a good amount of space between them, both leaning their back on their own doors, but you could tell they wanted to be close by the smirks they wore. They were magnetic, drawn to one another.
“We’re getting married,” Tatum spoke in revelation.
“Evidently,” Ree replied. Tatum grinned at his laidback approach to the whole thing. He had to be…
“Nervous?” She asked.
“Why would I be?” He shrugged. “I know you,” he added with a wink.
“But you’ll have to be with one girl. Only one. Forever,” she added with a raised brow.
“I already am.”
Tatum squinted, probing to see him break a sweat.
“You’ll have to deal with all of those little things that get on your nerves about me,” Tatum warned him in a cute voice. “Forever,” she added again.
Ree nodded.
“Yeah... Hair in the sink. Stealing my razors. Chocolate chip cookies in the bed…I think I’ll live,” he shrugged like it was a light sentencing. Tatum laughed her laugh, loud and vibrant.
“Smart ass.”
“Silly ass.”
They could see the plane descending in the distance and knew their friends had arrived safely. The festivities could officially begin.
“Fuck kinda shit is this, boss?”
“What? Fuck you mean?”
The group of friends was all seated outside of the estate, a long table set up for them to dine on what would traditionally be the rehearsal dinner. Bellies full of lobster, shrimp, crab, and champagne, the jokes and laughter began to go into effect.
“Fuck you mean, fuck I mean?” Chauncey laughed. “What kinda rehearsal dinner is this? Niggas ain’t rehearse shit!”
Sasha had to crack a smirk at that one although she had seemed to be a little stiff since they de-boarded the plane. The champagne seemed to be loosening her up though.
“Fuck is there to rehearse?” Ree asked seriously as everyone giggled, including Tatum. “I know how to walk down a fucking aisle.” He cracked a grin.
“It’s a little more to it than that, Ree,” Sasha chimed with a smile. She was dressed in a white jeweled tunic and her hair hung long and free, giving her an island vibe. She was doing everything in her power to get into vacation mode and enjoy herself besides her slight discomfort with Jayde. She sat next to Chauncey and held his hand and as a slight breeze blew, she nestled close to him. The late nights alone, the arguments, she wanted to forget that this weekend.
TTW 3 ( Thicker Than Water 3 ) Page 9
