Just Can't Let Go

by Mary B. Morrison

  Skimming the crowded room buzzing with chatter, I didn’t see him anywhere, but as usual, lots of eyes were on me. I went to the rooftop. A few people were doing hookah. Inhaling the fresh air, I gazed out over midtown, then rode the elevator back to the first floor. This place, famous for its shrimp and grits, stayed open until three in the morning. Checking my cell, I saw it was 1:01 a.m. People were drinking, laughing, talking over one another.

  One man held up an empty glass, then shouted to the mixologist, “Hey, buddy, put a round on my tab for me and my new friends here!”

  I sighed, rolled my eyes at him. Why was he so damn loud and happy? I hated jolly attention whores.

  En route to the restroom, a guy seated at the bar grabbed my hand. “Hey, baby. Let me buy you whatever you want.”

  From the shoes on his feet, to his jacked-up fingernails, to the gray hairs sprouting out of his wide nostrils, he couldn’t afford me. If he’d looked at my face instead of gawking at my ass, he would’ve seen I was already annoyed. I snatched my arm away, stared down at him. “Bitch, don’t you ever touch me again in your life.” Scales was too upscale not to have a dress code.

  He leaned back. “Bitch?” His brows grew closer together.

  I didn’t give a fuck what he thought; he’d heard me correctly. He should drop the defense. He wasn’t offended when he violated me. I hated the disrespectful shit men did. He didn’t know me. That fool also didn’t know I had my fully loaded forty in my purse, but if he touched me again, everybody up in here would find out. Some other woman might find his offering (probably a cocktail not a house) flattering. Not Alexis Crystal.

  I had a fifty-thousand-dollar car outside. Registered in my name and paid for by James. The balance on my college tuition was zero thanks to James. Rent. Paid in full every month by my gurl or my guy. Now that Chanel was my ex-gurl, I’d have to be nicer to James, but I wasn’t putting his ring back on ’til he ditched his side. Normally, this time of the morning I’d be at Pin Ups waiting for Chanel to finish stripping; then I’d empty her money bag into my oversized purse. Depending on how my conversation with Spencer went when he arrived, I might drop by the club on my way home.

  Maybe I could convince my sister Devereaux to cast me in Sophisticated Side Chicks ATL. Outside of having a super-sexy hourglass frame with a big butt and huge tits, I didn’t know what Devereaux saw in gold-digging Goldie Jackson. Lucky bitch came up on gay ass Buster. She thought that shit was a secret. My hair stylist, Marcus Darlin, knew all of his clients’ business. Acting had to be Goldie’s passion the way she kept her husband’s beard manicured. Her personal life seemed dazzled with materials, but that bitch was boring. Maybe I’d befriend her. Set her ass up. Take her spot. Devereaux knew I should’ve been Ebony Waterhouse, but she didn’t want to hire family.

  A couple got up from a table behind me. Maybe that jerk who’d touched my hand had done me the favor of my not having made it to the restroom. I sat on the stool facing the exit, leaned back against the chair, crossed my legs, swung my foot back and forth waiting for Spencer to arrive.

  Say what? Straightening my spine, this could be my lucky day. Phoenix and Goldie entered arm in arm, side by side. I captured a few photos with my cell, then watched them. No doubt. They appeared booed up. I couldn’t believe I had pictures of Mercedes’s husband, Benjamin, cheating and now Phoenix. I could be that bitch to expose these trifling pretenders.

  Stirring up shit in both of my sisters’ households was not my intent. Okay, yes it was. My life was screwed. Theirs were too. They just didn’t know it. I texted a pic of Phoenix to Mercedes knowing she’d show it to Devereaux. To level the situation, I sent Devereaux a picture that I’d taken of Benjamin out on a date at Houston’s restaurant months ago. I might snag my role sooner than I’d expected.

  My brother was a twenty-seven-year-old in heat born February 17. I was a year younger than he, July 28, Leo. My vagina was always turnt up. Being with child made me hornier. I could tell the moment I saw Spencer working behind the bar at the Cheesecake Factory on Lenox Road pouring my mother a birthday drink that he had a big dick that I wanted to ride. I didn’t care that it was my mother’s fiftieth, or that Spencer was interested in her. He was hot for me. I’d admit, I didn’t care about a lot of people or things. I was out to get mine all the time.

  Didn’t believe my mom would go all the way with a man almost half her age when she’d let a sixty-year-old married man move in with her. Guess she caught a break when Fortune suffered a heart attack and died the day after she stepped over the hill. His death was worth celebrating. No one missed his broke ass. Trifling men like dude at the bar should never get laid, but there were always females like my sister Sandara who’d lay with the lames, have their babies, then bitch about what the daddies didn’t do for their kids.

  Whatever.

  At least I can no longer say I didn’t know my father. Now that I knew the truth, I didn’t give a fuck about his old deadbeat decrepit ass. His tired one foot in the grave, high blood pressure, bent over behind with gout in both feet was calling every day begging to see me. My father was a stranger to me. Having met him hadn’t changed that situation.

  I smiled. A half smile as my brother entered the bar. Noticed Phoenix and Goldie were seated at a booth up front. Spencer was six feet two. Had them light brown bedroom eyes and full lips. Slim, sexy, 180 with that creamy milk chocolate complexion. I liked his hair trimmed low; preferred those shoulder-length locks he’d recently cut off, though. Told me the energy in his dreads wasn’t the same after knowing he’d sexed his sister.

  Female heads turned toward him. If they knew he had those indentions in his lower abs that curved toward his inner thighs, a big dick that hooked to his left . . . Alexis, that’s your blood!

  I could’ve waved at Spencer, but decided to check my face in my compact mirror while letting the ladies enjoy his view.

  I didn’t believe in regrets, but that was one good dick I sure ’nuff should’ve passed on.

  CHAPTER 3

  Spencer

  Ah, yeah. Inhaling slow and long, the aroma of chicken and waffles greeted me the second I opened the door. I spotted her right away. I swore that woman never took a holiday from ultra sexy.

  Vinyl-covered cushioned stools lined the bar. This was my favorite joint. Knew lots of shit like how men approach dudes, hook up, then leave together. What they did wasn’t my thing or my business. The food and hospitality kept me coming back.

  Wooden high tables on the perimeter. Dining-height seats in the front, private cigar lounge upstairs. My man Tom was mixing. I rubbed my palms together. That was what was up.

  Should’ve known there was something beyond decadent about Alexis the moment she tilted her sweet chocolate indulgent ass in my direction at the Cheesecake Factory. Damn. Sidetrack. Her mama’s number-one dessert was our Godiva.

  Alexis was that female version of me. Our mannerisms and mental outlook on sex, love, life, and situations made us twins at heart. Wish I would’ve known she was my sister, man. Yeah, a brotha got dick control issues, but I’d never get it in with family. If we didn’t share DNA, my “D” might be in her “A” before sunrise.

  Spence, dude. That’s kinship, nigga. Squash the thoughts, bruh. My doggie-dog territorial got-to-bone the baddest babes was another reason my boy LB was gonna flip when he found out the whole truth about my sexing Alexis.

  I watched her check her hair and makeup; her blemish-free, smooth skin was just like her, flawless. Bronze lipstick covered those full puckers with that dimple in the middle of her bottom lip. Her long jet-black wavy hair flowed to her breasts below where I recalled her areolas were. She stared in the mirror. I smiled, nodded my approval.

  A feline stood up from her seat at a booth, diverting my attention. Damn! Shorty was nice. Black lace catsuit. A half-dozen studs lit up her ears. That necklace couldn’t be real else she’d have security nearby. Whoever dude was at the table she’d left, nigga was crazy. A woman that fine, I’d have to go i
n the restroom and watch her piss. Sleep with one eye open to make sure no other man slipped into her dreams. She strolled toward me. I waited for her to get within my three feet of space.

  “You real chill,” I said, giving her a comp.

  “Thanks, handsome.” She pivoted, strutted real slow in Alexis’s direction. Wait. So she’d only come this way for my reaction? I followed her to get a close-up on that outrageous booty and tight frame. Shorty’s hypnotic opened my third eye.

  “What’s up, Alexis?” she said to my sister, not waiting for or getting a response.

  Finding out Alexis and I were siblings made it easy for me to tell my woman—her mother—the truth about checking out of her spot at a wee hour. My sister needs me. What was Blake going to say? At this time of the morning? Or, You can’t go.

  The latter would’ve never settled on her taste buds. I’d told Blake the night I’d met her, I was legal. A real man didn’t need permission. He gave his woman respect . . . not control. Dude at the bar trailed me up and down with a mean stare. I was already knowing. He’d hit on my sister and she’d checked his hairy nose ass. I returned dude the favor, then stood in front of Alexis wondering how she knew shorty.

  “I’m glad you could steal away for a few,” she said. “I’ll try not to keep you past curfew.”

  “Whatever, man.”

  Standing, she parted her arms for a hug. Her Viva La Juicy perfume made being close to her sweeter. “I couldn’t sleep. Thanks for meeting me.”

  “No prob,” I said, wrapping my arms around her bare shoulders. I held on a few secs to piss off the dude behind me. Letting go, I hoped Shorty would sweep back by. Stepped back. A lingering view of Alexis’s fit, I had to shake my head. For sho I was the envy of every man in this joint, especially fat boy behind me. So was bruh who was seated up front waiting on Shorty.

  Giving attention to my sister, I told her, “You look nice.”

  Softly, she answered, “Thanks,” all provocative and shit.

  Felt my third eye shut. Good boy, I thought. Shaking my head again, I sat across from Alexis. “Who would’ve thunketh? You my lil sis.” I had to say that ish to keep my dick in alignment. Fam did not fuck fam under any circum—glad I was all cised up.

  “Oh, so now I’m lil sis, huh?”

  “For the rest of our lives. Yup. But I still can’t believe this shit. Then again,” I told her, “I can. Our dad is that doggish ho. You ordered yet?”

  She shook her head.

  “You hungry?” I didn’t bother picking up the menu. I never strayed from my true and tried.

  She nodded.

  My eyes shifted, lingered on Shorty as she swayed that blond hair and those magnificent hips at the same time. She winked at me, then said to my sis, “Keep rising to the top, Lex,” and kept it moving.

  Had to ask. “Y’all familiar? Classmates? What’s the affiliation with Shorty?”

  The last time Alexis was this quiet she was in my arms. We were on my balcony chilling, listening to the poolside waterfall. She’d confided in me about not knowing her dad. How bad she wanted to find him. Her mom listing her father as “unknown” on her birth certificate. That was the ultimate illegit. I believed that caused Alexis to hate. Her mom. Our dad. Men. Women. Maybe even herself. I wasn’t sure of her internal but on the surface, Alexis was beautiful.

  “Cool. I’m hungry too,” I said, breaking the silence. “You wanna share the chicken wings?”

  Smiling, she said, “You know it, chick.”

  Mirroring her expression, I said, “That’s my lil sis.”

  Finding out we were related didn’t shake me. I was pissed off at my dad, not my sister. Felt natural like when I’d met my ex-girlfriend Charlotte. Talking for hours on the phone. Hanging out for days, never getting tired of being with her. I missed Charlotte’s crazy ass.

  “Okay, you can chill on that. I’m only a year younger than you, my brother.”

  True that. She was twenty-six, didn’t need me or any other man’s protection, but I’d be there for her from now on. This was cool. Letting a female I’d never sex again lean on me made me feel needed. No ulterior. My heart opened. Made space for Alexis. I didn’t have to play “d” or keep my guard up. A sister in my life was essential.

  Needed my sis to be there for me as well. I’d seen how Alexis got down the day my ex-girl showed up at my spot without an invite. Alexis had done the same cruising to my unit like Charlotte. Alexis’s apartment was in the same complex but spaced like East coast, West side. When Charlotte accosted Alexis, then called Blake a bitch, Alexis slapped Charlotte three, maybe fo’ times—I’d lost count—straight in the face, then pulled out her forty.

  Snagging the waitress, I ordered Alexis her favorite drink, a mai tai. “A dirty martini for me with three olives.” Blake had me on that sippy sip drank. “We’re sharing the chicken wings, throw in an order of fries, and that slammin’ gumbo. Two orders of that.” Looking at Alexis, I asked, “You want a vegetable?”

  She twisted her upper lip. Cute.

  I told the waitress, “That completes.”

  “Be right back with your drinks,” the waitress said, walking away.

  “So what’s up with you that this couldn’t wait for the sun to rise? Trippin’ off of the ole man’s desperation to get to know us? I refuse. I hope you haven’t punked out on our agreement not to see him again.”

  She shook her head.

  “Good. ’Cause I don’t give a fuck about that nig. Beatin’ on my mom and shit like she was his punching bag. His punk ass damn near killed both of us. Now he wants to let bygones be.” I started moving my head side to side. Felt my jaw tightening.

  Clenching my teeth, couldn’t say my reasons for despising that nigga was more solid than hers. He knew Alexis was his and he still disowned her. Blake told me about the paternity test he took right after my sister was born. Probably didn’t want my mom to find out how big of a whore he really was. And what was his bitch ass point of making me do a DNA and Alexis do another one? I did it so Alexis wouldn’t have to go it alone. Secretly, I’d prayed mine would’ve come back negative. That way I would’ve had no reservations of beating him down one solid for me and my mom.

  I felt my throat tightening, eyes started watering. I blinked a few times. Tucked in my lips. Slid my palm over my nose, then rested my chin in the arch of my hand.

  Conner Rogers sent my mother to an early grave. Venus Domino got the courage to leave him when I was ten. If my dad hadn’t almost killed me, I think my mom would’ve stayed with him until he killed her. My mother, the love of my life, the only person who has ever loved me unconditionally protected me when I couldn’t fight for myself. She left my dad. Became a self-made millionaire, but I supposed the excruciating memories were etched so deeply she couldn’t forget that shit. I had no idea she was suffering in silence.

  My mom accidentally overdosed on prescription meds. That was the cause of death on the certificate I had. But I knew it was no fucking accident. She was too Einstein to swallow more than the recommended. All I knew was she left me alone. I’d give back the house and apartment building that were paid in full. I would’ve never collected on the million-dollar insurance policy if she could’ve gotten out of that coffin and walked with me. I would’ve left that check at the altar. Never looked back.

  Our drinks arrived in time for me to douse my sorrow. I finished mine before I placed the glass back on the table. Alexis sucked, and sucked, until the ice in her glass was higher than the alcohol.

  Looking at my sister, Alexis’s tears spilled onto her silk dress, one chasing after another. Guess we were both trying to drown the sadness inside of us. Buoyancy was a muthafucka. Some shit you can never forget. I unrolled the black cloth napkin, handed it to her, then I placed the silver fork, spoon, and knife on the table.

  “I don’t want to come between you and my mom, but I need you more right now and since you’re the only brother I have—”

  I interrupted. “That we know of.”
>
  “You’re right. That we know of,” she agreed. Polishing off the rest of her drink, she ordered us another round.

  “Sis, I don’t know how much longer my arrangement with your mother is going to last. I’m thinking about letting her go. Since I found out my sorry ass father is yours, too, I care a lot for your mom, but it feels weird sometimes . . . you know.”

  “The sex must be good; otherwise, I know you. You would’ve moved out of my mom’s house by now.”

  Shorty crossed my mind. Sex with her was probably amazing. Could probably spin her small curvaceous ass on my big dick. Pick her up. Flip her upside down. Eat her pussy while she sucked my dick. Shouldn’t think about that when I was discussing my cohabitation arrangement.

  “We didn’t know we were related. Come on now. You can’t hold my being with your mom over my head.” I added, “I met her first,” then gave a half smile.

  Her lips curved but didn’t part until she told me, “Whateva, chick.”

  I hadn’t quite moved in or out. My unit was still fully decored. But it was more than just sex with Blake. She was attentive, considerate. Every day we didn’t eat out she cooked. She checked on me, not up on my whereabouts like Charlotte used to do. Wondered if my ex had slipped to the ole dude she’d spread for while she was mine. Fuck Charlotte.

  Sleeping with my sister’s mother . . . I’d done a lot of things with and to females. Continuing the relationship felt as though I was betraying Alexis, but there was genuinely nothing wrong with my relay with Blake.

  Staring at me, Sis said, “Nah, we just need a break from yonies.”

  We both had a way with words. Both often had the same closed-lip smile. I used mine to conceal my thoughts. I laughed. Alexis did too.

  “Wild child. How long you been straddling the sexes?” I asked.