“Forgot my ass. Where the ticket at? Huh?”
My manager, Derrick, crept up behind me. “Ask her to leave or you leave. I’m not tolerating her disruptions again.”
I told my gurl, “I’ll stop by your place after I get off. What you want me to bring you, boo?”
Charlotte took the cash. I know my calling her boo in front of the girl sitting next to her helped my gurl turn down. Charlotte eyed my shit. “Bring me my dick,” she said, then left.
Not tonight. My dick had intentions on making plans with the lady in red. I’d deal with my gurl’s repercussions tomorrow.
Why did I always attract the crazy ones? This foolishness never happened to LB.
CHAPTER 12
Blake
“Mama, that bartender is delicious,” Devereaux said, nibbling her bottom lip.
I sat on the end of the vinyl booth beside Devereaux. Just in case he came my way. Didn’t want the bartender to have to reach over any of my daughters to get to me, especially Alexis who’d sat on the opposite end facing me. Not that he’d come over, but from my seat, I had a complete view of the bar.
“You like him?” Devereaux asked.
Devereaux was twenty-eight and a new mom of my two-year-old granddaughter, Nya. My child’s deep brown eyes were the same color as the thick flat-ironed hair that hung below her shoulders. She stared at Alexis, then narrowed her eyes. “Don’t say a word. I asked Mom, not you.”
“He’s cute,” was my answer.
The heart-shaped engagement ring on Devereaux’s finger had been there since she’d graduated from Clark-Atlanta four years ago. I tried to tell her not to let Phoenix move in with her after Nya was born but . . . she adamantly wanted them to be a family. Didn’t want her daughter to grow up without her dad around.
“You’re too old for him, Mama, give me that number,” Alexis exclaimed. Stretching her long arm across the table, she wiggled her fingers in my direction.
“I knew it was coming,” Devereaux said, shaking her head. “Contrary to what’s in that brain of yours, every man does not want you. He’s attracted to Mama.”
Confidently, Alexis stated, “But they all want to do me.”
Rolling my eyes at Alexis, I shook my head. I shouldn’t be annoyed but couldn’t she let me enjoy his flattery? As sexually free as she was, Alexis was my only child who didn’t have a baby. I was grateful she’d made it to twenty-six without ever being pregnant and I prayed she’d wait until she had a husband. Hopefully she’d choose her on-again off-again guy. I liked James Wilcox. Not because he bought Alexis expensive gifts. Upgraded her from the Lexus 300 I’d bought her to a new convertible. My respect for James was based on the countless times I’d seen him protect my baby even when we knew she was dead wrong.
James, like the others Alexis dated, loved her craziness. I could learn some things from the way Alexis never hesitated to tell people what she thought. I didn’t understand her reasoning of dating both males and females but she was my Leo child. Eventually, Alexis always got her way.
Curling my fingers into a fist, playfully I shook the paper at her. Hopefully the bartender had given me his contact. I was too mature to entertain chasing behind a man who looked young enough to be my son. My child’s hand was still open and facing me.
Sandara swatted Alexis’s hand. “Mama, you keep his number and use it. It’s not like you’re trying to marry him. You only turn fifty once. Get yourself some young, hard, good stuff.”
Good stuff got my youngest child three babies and no husband. Got me four. Having casual sex made me think about CNN’s ranking by city of reported HIV cases, as it appeared online at rollingout.com. Atlanta wasn’t first or second but we were definitely in the top ten. Miami and Baton Rouge were numbers one and two.
Sandara and Devereaux favored one another the most except Sandara didn’t press her hair. She had that long gorgeous wash-and-go that became real curly when she conditioned it. My youngest and oldest both had caramel complexions, long noses, large almond-shaped eyes, and naturally reddish lips.
Alexis could’ve been a supermodel if she weren’t five-foot-five and a size six. The platform stilettoes she wore all the time gave her runway attitude. All the dresses she wore barely covered her ass. I think if it weren’t against the law, that child would never put on clothes.
“Don’t encourage Mother to be unfaithful,” Mercedes interjected.
Her mention made me wonder where Fortune was. I checked my cell. No new missed calls or text messages from him.
Sandara fired back, “Mama should do the bartender. Maybe it’ll give Fortune an incentive to go back to his wife and leave our mama the hell alone.”
“Did Raymond get your son those shoes?” Mercedes asked.
My brows raised. Sandara’s lips tightened. Please, Lord Jesus. Not today.
“Of course not. He probably came over with forty dollars. Fucked you, then left with sixty,” Mercedes said.
Sandara angrily replied, “Raymond is not broke.”
Sarcastically, Mercedes asked, “And you’re on welfare because?”
Sandara’s eyes were in the left corners when she closed them and in the right when she opened them. Next to Alexis, my youngest had the worst temper. What made my babies quick to anger?
Mercedes was a perfect size eight. Her light brown hair, bunched in clusters at the edges, framed her pale face. Barely touching her shoulders, her super eight-inch Afro flopped over her ears. Today, she had in her green contacts. She’d blinked several times. I would offer her my drops but that one didn’t share anything.
“That’s enough, you two,” I insisted.
Sandara should’ve stayed in college and dated men who were at Baylor University. The end of her sophomore year, she’d said, “It’s too hard, Mama. I quit.” For whatever reason, the men she chose to bed never took her seriously.
Mercedes commented, “Mama, I’m not asking, I’m telling you. He’s beneath you. He’s a bartender, for goodness’ sake. He probably gives his number out all day long. All he wants is sex. I bet he doesn’t even have decent health coverage.”
Mercedes’s five-year-old twins, Brandy and Brandon, were in the most expensive private school in Roswell. Whatever Mercedes needed, her husband, Benjamin, provided. Benjamin was no pushover. He had that quietness about himself. He loved his family and provided for them. At twenty-seven Mercedes had it all together. I just wished she’d realize her sisters didn’t.
The waiter approached our table. “Happy birthday to?” he asked, pausing.
“It’s our mother’s fiftieth,” Mercedes said loud, looking in the direction of the bar.
Our waiter smiled. “I can’t tell. You all look alike to me. I thought you were sisters. Well, I’ll start with the beautiful birthday young lady,” he said, staring at me. “My name is LB. That’s short for Lawrence Bennett. May I take your drink order?”
He didn’t have finesse like the one heading my way.
“Don’t push up on my gurl,” my bartender guy said. He placed a martini in front of me and continued his stroll.
I had to smile. It felt good having a man whatever his age was flirting with me. Opening the piece of paper, I saw his name, then read, I want to blow the candles on your cake. Tonight. Spencer Domino.
Mercedes opened her hand. “Give it to me, Mama. Now.”
I stuffed the paper with his number on it in my purse. “Order your drink, child.”
Giving me a gift bag, Devereaux politely said, “Happy birthday, Mama.”
Mercedes requested a cabernet. Alexis ordered a mai tai. Devereaux wanted a JW Lemonade and Sandara asked for the same with a shot of vodka chilled on the side.
Opening the bag, I removed the tissue. I laughed. I knew exactly where the pink envelope was from. “Thank you, baby.” Inside was a fifty-dollar gift card to Victoria’s Secret. I flashed it in front of Mercedes.
She heaved, then said, “Fine, you might as well have this one too.” Mercedes placed her bag on the table
in front of me.
Rummaging through the tissue, I held up a five-hundred-dollar gift card to Bloomingdale’s. Alexis’s gift was a fifty-dollar card from Sephora. Sandara handed me a twenty-dollar card for The Body Shop.
The waiter returned with the drinks and we placed our food orders. Sandara handed him her cell. “Take a picture of us, LB.”
He snapped several photos, then handed the phone back. Before Sandara had her cell in hand, Spencer intercepted it, leaned close to me, held the phone in front of us, clicked the side button twice. He said, “Here you go, beautiful,” then placed the cell in my hand.
“Her name is Blake,” Mercedes retorted. “Mother, he doesn’t even know your name.”
I gave the phone to Sandara.
Sandara said, “I just texted you the pics, Mom, and I posted them on my Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter.”
“You put too much of your business on social media, lil girl. That’s why you’re always feuding with your welfare-rich-and-fameless friends,” Mercedes said.
Sandara fired back, “At least I have friends.”
I held my finger up to Mercedes. “Stop it. I mean it.”
Raising my girls by myself, I felt my heart ache for my youngest child. The hardship for me wasn’t monetary. It was being a solo parent even when a man was living in our home. I didn’t want to stop financially supporting Sandara. I had to figure out a way to help her become responsible for her kids the way I’d done for mine.
“I’ve decided to combine my cards and do a total makeover.”
Mercedes started tapping on her cell. Her phone dinged twice. “Let’s do it tomorrow! I booked you a hair appointment with Marcus Darlin! He’s fitting you in so we have to be there at six sharp.”
“Hush!” Devereaux said, then she started texting. “He told me I had to wait until he got back from a hair show in Dallas.”
Mercedes snatched Devereaux’s cell. “Don’t ruin it for Mother. He’s doing this as a favor to me.”
I glanced toward the bar, then back at my girls. “I want the sexiest style that takes ten years off of my fifty.”
“See what you’ve started, Mercedes,” Alexis said. “You’re the one encouraging Mama to get her feelings hurt.”
Sandara chimed in, “Alexis, don’t mess up Mama’s birthday.”
Mercedes stared at Sandara, then said, “You mean the way you messed up your life by having three kids by three different men and none of them are around.”
Sandara circled her finger along the rim of her glass. Tears filled her eyes as she mumbled, “If this bitch say one more thing to me, I swear she’s going to wear this drink.” Increasing her tone, she said, “You’re not better than me.”
“By what standards. My twins have a great father.” Mercedes dragged out the f word like it were a knife slowly slicing my baby girl’s heart in two.
“Really, Mercedes?” Devereaux commented.
Mercedes rolled her eyes at Devereaux. “You don’t want me to go in on you, trust me.”
The base of Sandara’s glass was still on the table. Quietly, I exhaled, “Thank you, Jesus.”
“I don’t have baby daddies. I have a husband. That’s because I am smarter than both of you,” Mercedes said. “Devereaux, Phoenix is never going to marry you. Never.”
Holding my breath, I watched Sandara pick up her glass. I shook my head. “Please, Sandara. Not today.”
Mercedes’s eyes narrowed as she stared at Sandara.
“Speaking of smart,” Alexis interrupted, then stood. “I have to work on my dissertation, about how having my father listed as unknown really impacted my life. As part of my research I’m going to find him mother.”
A bitter taste emerged in my mouth as I scolded her. “You will do no such thing young lady. I forbid you.”
Mercedes tugged on the hem of Alexis’s dress. “You’re creating a scene. Sit.”
Alexis stood taller, stared down into my eyes. “No apology, Mom. I’ve made up my mind. I believe the reason we’re all messed up is because we don’t know our fathers. You’d rather take it to your grave than to do the right thing. If you want to talk about this, I’m willing to discuss it with you later.” She strutted away, stomping one foot in front of the other.
Did she have to go there? Now each of my daughters was frowning. Attempting to regroup from the unexpected, I insisted, “Mercedes, apologize to your sisters.”
“For what? Why do I always have to be the one to say I’m sorry? I’m telling them the truth.”
“Because you are pathetic,” Devereaux said. “You always lash out at Sandara. You know she admires you. Stop beating her down all the damn time. So she made a mistake.”
Mercedes stood. “And you didn’t? When a mistake is repeated more than once”—she paused, and stared at Sandara—“it’s stupidity. Maybe Alexis is right. I’m out. Mama, I’ll call you later. And we’re still on for tomorrow morning.”
“Morning? I thought you meant six in the evening.”
Mercedes looked at me. “I’ll meet you there in the morning. “She told Devereaux, “Since you rode here with me, you can catch a ride from Mom.” Mercedes picked up her designer purse, eased it onto her shoulder, and left.
“I’ve lost my appetite. I’ma catch up to Mercedes. Plus, I need to get home to Nya . . .” Devereaux paused, then stared toward the bar. “Alexis doesn’t know when to quit. Let me go get that girl. Happy birthday, Mama.”
I stood. I did not want to be responsible for getting anyone anywhere. “Go catch your sister.”
Devereaux slid out of the booth. “I’ll meet you guys at the salon.”
Gazing toward Spencer, I noticed him smiling at Alexis. For a moment, I was jealous. My daughter was decades closer to that young man’s age than I. Devereaux pulled Alexis away and I saw Spencer’s eyes follow Alexis’s jiggling behind until she was out the door.
LB returned with five orders but only two of us remained.
I looked at Sandara. “You can go, baby. It’s okay.”
My child stared at the food, then at me.
I told LB, “Please, package everything to go.”
Sandara sat next to me, and leaned her head on my shoulder. I held her face with one hand as she cried.
“Why does Mercedes hate me, Mama?”
“She loves you. Baby, each of you are like me just in different ways. Mercedes has my high maternal standards. Alexis got my drive for college education. Devereaux desperately wants a family so she’ll hold on to Phoenix until he lets her go. And you choose to have sex with men who don’t do anything for you or your children.”
LB placed a large to-go bag on the table. “Can I get you anything else?”
“The check,” I said, drying my baby’s tears.
“It’s already taken care of. Courtesy of Spencer Domino,” he said, nodding toward the bar.
Raising my brows, I was impressed. I’d thank Spencer later. Focusing on my child, Sandara was in a trance.
“It’s just so hard for me. I give all my love to my children. Mama, I need someone to make me feel like a woman. I love my babies but why don’t their daddies love me anymore? They don’t even try to help us out.”
I told my daughter, “It’s hard for a man to fall in love with a woman who never gives him a reason.” Those were the exact words my mother had spoken to me when I was twenty-five.
Sandara cried aloud.
I wish I had all the answers. God knew I didn’t want any of my children to end up like me but with four girls the odds weren’t in my favor.
“Hush, honey. God doesn’t give us any more than we can handle. Just make sure your new boyfriend doesn’t eat before you feed my grandbabies.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And, I’ll see you at church Sunday with my grands.”
“Yes, ma’am,” my baby said, picking up the bag.
I watched her walk away. Praying I could save her, I knew I couldn’t. Sunday couldn’t come fast enough but I was going to enjoy
the night.
Church didn’t make me a saint. God didn’t make me a sinner. The pastor couldn’t save me from the devil. And Alexis was not taking Spencer from me.
CHAPTER 13
Spencer
Dang!!!! How much longer you gonna be? Charlotte texted.
Just closed out boo. Waiting on your food then I’m in motion. I had to lie to my gurl or she’d hop in her ride, jet over here, and give me drama.
I slipped my cell in my pocket. Focused on Blake sitting at the table alone. She stared into her half-full glass, stirred the olives repeatedly. The way her daughters bailed one at a time I was sure that wasn’t how she expected her evening to end when she got here. Sensing her loneliness increased my odds of making Blake my sexual conquest tonight.
“Still figuring it out, huh, playa?” LB said, picking up his customers’ cocktails. “She looks V to me, Spence. Go for it.”
We used the first letter for words like vulnerable, booshie, freak, desperate. We dismissed spittin’ THOT (that ho over there), ho, and bitch, although there were times when I seriously came close to calling Charlotte a bitch.
The six highboy tables aligned in the center of the bar area were full. Same was on the real for the booths in my section. There was a crowd of people near the door.
Derrick approached me. “Spencer, you want to close? I could use you.”
Shaking my head, normally I’d take the extra. My time out was official in ten minutes and a brotha had to be avail for his intentions.
Firmly, I replied, “No can do. Not tonight, man.”
I couldn’t let Blake soak on her birthday. If we were going to hang, she had to perk up. I was not slinging dick for a depressed broad. A customer paid their tab. I placed a martini at the spot as they were leaving, covered it with a napkin. “Sorry, this seat is reserved,” I told the next person.
Walking up to Blake, I picked up her cocktail. “Come chill at the bar for a sec,” I said, reaching for her hand. I noticed en route she staggered a notch or two.
Pulling out the same stool she sat in earlier, I told her, “Relax. I got you.”
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