The Banks Sisters

by Nikki Turner

  Inside, Tommy’s office was enormous; large enough to harbor a midsize aircraft. He hugged her, and whispered his condolences before offering her a seat.

  The embrace was tighter and lasted longer than Simone thought was appropriate. Respectfully she pulled away.

  “I need to talk to you about my daddy’s will.”

  They took a seat on a coffee color leather sofa. “Anything I can do for you Princess. You know good and well, all you have to do is ask? You know without a doubt, Uncle Tommy got ya!” He placed his hand on her leg and lightly squeezed her knee, pretending as if it was an act of comfort instead of perverted lust.

  Since the day Simone had turned eighteen, whenever her father wasn’t looking, Tommy gazed at her with lust in his eyes. Her skin felt the heat emanating from his touch. Simone could take care of herself then, and, as a grown woman she could take care of herself now. Simone casually brushed Tommy’s hand from her knee, replacing it with her Louie tote bag. She took out a small notebook and pen.

  “I would like to ask you a few questions,” she said, looking him square in the eyes, “about my father’s estate.”

  Tommy straightened up, putting his sleaze-ball tendencies in check, at least temporarily. “Me and Simon were business partners. Your father’s estate . . . well, that’s more like personal business. And your Simon’s personal’s business was exactly that, as far as I was concerned.”

  If Tommy had been connected to bullshit detector the meter would have put someone’s eye out, Simone thought looking into his eyes.

  “Give me break.” Simone chided. “You and my father were friends since middle school. Five decades. I’m not asking you who he lost his virginity to, a question I’m somehow willing to bet that you could surely answer without much contemplation. I’m simply asking you about his will. Anything you can tell me would be helpful and appreciated.”

  Nothing!

  Dead Silence.

  Tick-tock . . . Tick-tock . . .

  The only sound in the room came from an antique Howard Miller Grandfather Clock.

  “Tommy?” She urged, bordering on his aspiration from his reluctance to help.

  Tommy had a straight face and didn’t say a word.

  Simon once told his daughter that Tommy lost a ton of money playing poker because of a tell: he scratched the bridge of his nose every time he bluffed. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” Tommy was fidgeted. “If I knew anything about a will I will let you know. Why wouldn’t I?”

  Good question, Simone thought to herself.

  “I don’t know anything,” he rubbed his nose, and she knew he was lying. “But why are you so anxious about this will.”

  “Listen, I’m sure you’ve heard. Marjorie has everything and I have nothing. Not even a job anymore. The bank I started at yesterday was robbed.”

  “Not what I saw on the news?”

  “Yes.”

  Hearing her problems somehow prompted him to spark up the conversation. “Did they offer y’all any kind of compensation?”

  “No! Nothing! And Marjorie took my Benz from me under my nose.”

  “She did?” he questioned, not really seeming too surprised.

  “Yes,” Simone said, starting to feel the emotions coming.

  “Well, you know that. You know she’s going to milk the situation for everything she can get.”

  “I know.”

  “Now you know all the papers we had here, everything went to Marjorie by law.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “I wish it was different,” he said, then dropped his head, “imp . . . imp . . . imp . . . it’s a crying shame all the bad luck and the hard time you having.”

  “I will be okay,” she said about to break down. “I know I will. I’m smart and strong. I will figure out something,” she was trying to convince herself, but felt so weak. She couldn’t stop the tears from coming.

  Tommy took her in his arms and allow her to let loose her tears. “It’s going to be okay. Uncle Tommy got you.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate you,” she managed to get out in between tears.

  “I appreciate you, too. Don’t worry I’m going to help you,” he said then before she knew it, he had his hand in between her legs and started tongue kissing her.

  She pulled away, “What are you doing?”

  “What you mean?”

  “Just relax, I got you,” he grabbed her and pushed her back on the couch.

  “Stop! No! You fucking better not. Let me go,” she screamed as she pounded on his chest.

  He was still on top of her and his penis was hard as a rock.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a letter thick glass heavy frame on the table in front of the sofa. She reached for it and slugs it on top of his head.

  “Oh, shit,” he said, out loud and let loose of his tight grip he had on her. Simone was up and out heading for the door as fast as she can, when he grabbed her arm and looked her in the eyes, “Listen, as tough as things are for you,” he said as sincere as he knew how. “You gone need a sugar daddy, if so, I will definitely take care of you. Will pick up where your father left off, if you wanna share some of that sweet, juicy pussy with me,” he said then stuck out his tongue and made it motion as if he was pleasuring her vagina with his tongue.

  Simone snatched her arm from him, “Go to hell. You disgusting pervert.”

  He palmed her butt with a smack and smiled, “This the real world baby. Real shit like that exists.”

  “Fuck you, Tommy,” she stormed down the hall.

  “If you ever need me, Uncle Tommy will be right here for you.”

  -10-

  The loud pungent smell of weed assaulted his nose as soon as Tariq walked across the doorsill. He closed and locked the door behind him.

  “Damn . . . my nigga, I got a contact and you ain’t even took it out yet.”

  “This that shit . . . man this that shit.”

  “What’s the heavy news you gotta lay on me man?”

  “I just stumbled across a sting for two million dollars, nigga!”

  “Foooo . . . real!” Spoe asked.

  “Yeah, for real! When you known me to play fuckin’ games about this paper?”

  “Never.” Spoe shook his head. “Run that shit down to me. Make that shit like music to my ears,” Spoe put his hands up to ears. “Two mill, huh? Who gave you the line on this hit?” Spoe needed details because he was the one that usually put the plans together, but he was happy that Tariq had came up with a job for them. He’d still have to check everything out though.

  “Tiff did . . .” Tariq said with pride. Proud that he had a chick that could help them get money and not just spend it.

  “Tif? Who the fuck is Tiff?”

  “You know the li’l bad bitch, drive the SL, I been fuckin’ wit’, Tiffany man.”

  “Oh, one of the ones from the strip club.”

  Tariq, nodded, “A’ight with that shit now.” He laughed at himself. “You trying to say something ’cause all my joints come from the strip club.”

  “And the same strip club at that, but I won’t even mention that shit tho.”

  Tariq laughed at himself. “I’m ridiculous, but the stripper hoes love me tho’.”

  “Naw, nigga don’t get that shit twisted. They like that money. That’s what their loyalty is to. Speaking of which, let’s get back to it.”

  “And I don’t never forget it . . . where their loyalty lie.”

  “Don’t ever forget and when you get ready for a nice chick, Bunny got somebody for you.”

  “I bet sis do, and I’ma let you know the word.”

  “No doubt,” Spoe said and then asked, “Yo, so is shorty official?”

  “Yeah Spoe, I wouldn’t be here right now if I felt for a second that she wasn’t official. I been fuckin’ wit’ her for a couple of weeks now.”

  “That’s a long time for you.” Spoe had to admit.

  Tariq smiled, “Real talk.” He agreed and then got ba
ck to the topic at hand. “The bitch couldn’t make no shit up like that. She knows how we get down Spoe! She got the address and everything. The nigga got a mini mansion, too.”

  “A’ight if you fuck with shawty and trust her word then lets move on it. We are going to have to leave that nigga in there stinking, too. Ain’t much to it, we got to leave him, when its that much paper on the line, he won’t take that shit sitting down, Reek.

  “He ain’t gone be in there and shawty want two-fifty for her cut, too.”

  Without hesitation, Spoe agreed. “She could get that! Shit, she putting us on to two free mill. Good job Reek, that’s a nice sting sho-nuff,” Spoe said, commending Tariq on bringing a lick to the table. Spoe was always the one who tended to stumble across their jobs. But all the excitement aside, Spoe had to ask. “But what the fuck you mean he ain’t gone be there?”

  “She going out with him and while she out with him, we going to shoot to the crib and take care of what we got to do.”

  “My nigga, you know I’m not on that B&E type shit. Fuck all that sneaking around shit, Reek,” Spoe said disappointed. “Man you know I like to be in control when we do shit this kind of shit, so it ain’t no slip-ups.”

  “Man I know,” Tariq agreed. “I just thought it was a good quick come up.”

  “But I’ll go, my nigg,” he said hesitantly, “for a million dollar profit, I’ll go,” he said again, more so trying to convince himself, of how he could sit back and chill, travel the world with Bunny. Then he spoke up again, this time more confidently, “A million fucking dollar, you got damn right I’m in. Then the two dapped and just like that. It was about to go down.

  -11-

  Bunny bent the corner almost on two wheels when she pulled up at the funeral home. Like a superhero she jumped out of the car, ready to solve her older sister’s dilemma at hand.

  “Bunny,” Tallhya called out to her sister, who was hightailing it up the sidewalk of the funeral home. “Bunny! Hold on!” Tallhya hurried up and got out of the car to try to catch up with her sister. “Wait,” she called out trailing behind Bunny.

  Bunny finally got the hint, and decided to stop in her tracks. She huffed and looked at her overweight sister trying to move as fast as she could. “Well, hurry up then.”

  Tallhya had put a lot of pep in her step and finally caught up, “Look, we not here for you to act simple okay?” Tallhya had the most serious look on her face. She knew her sister all too well. What folks would never detect about Bunny, was that her looks were very deceiving. Behind every pair of mink eyelashes and red bottomed Christian Louboutin, there was more than meets the eye. In every Celine bags, Bunny packed a sharp blade and had no problem slicing someone up like a piece of deli meet or slapping the cowboy shit out of anybody she felt warranted it in regard to herself or anybody she loved.

  “Well, they better not start none, it won’t be none,” Bunny said in a serious stance.

  Tallhya grabbed her sister’s arm and looked in her eyes, “As I said, before we left the house, and in the car on the way over here, we are not here to start nothing. I don’t want to cause drama or be disrespectful in no kind of way. I only want to get to the bottom of this. That’s it, that’s all,” she gave a hard, firm stare and made direct eye contact with her sister. “I’m not fucking bullshitting okay.”

  Bunny saw the passion mixed with the hurt in her sister’s eyes, sucked her teeth and then nodded, “Look sis, I’m only here to support you nothing, else.”

  “I know, you are,” Tallhya said, “and I’m glad you are here by my side. That’s what sisters are for, right,” Bunny reminded Tallhya.

  “I know it sounds crazy, but if I see the baby. I will know if it’s his or not.”

  “Yeah, it does.” Bunny put her arm around her sister and they walked side by side. “Sounds like some shit, that Me-Ma would say.” She chuckled a bit, trying to shine a bring light onto the situation, “You know how them old folks are with babies.” She transformed her voice into an old lady’s, “Bring ’em here so I can see ’em,” she tried to make jokes of the situation as they continued their stride to the entrance.

  They entered into the quiet, morbid funeral home. “Yes, may I help you,” the spooky looking man, dressed in an all black startled them.

  “Yes, we are here to see the baby,” Bunny said making eye contact with him.

  “Yes, this way.”

  The funeral director showed them into the viewing room, where the closed small casket rested on a pedestal. The whole ambience of the room was so gloomy. The second they saw the huge portrait on a tall gold easel of the innocent little baby girl in a beautiful white satin dress, the two were immediately sorrowful.

  “This is so horrible,” Bunny said, dropping her head just the sight of seeing the picture of the little baby girl there with so much life in her eyes, made Bunny forget all about the intended turn-up and why she had came there in the first place. “It’s just,” she searched for the word, “it’s just so, so, so tragic.”

  Tallhya couldn’t help herself. She stared at the little girl with tears in her eyes, she was astonished at how she was looking at the spitting image of Walter. Even though Walter had a lot of explaining to do, he had stepped out on her and had a baby with another woman, and never uttered a word of the birth of such a little blessing to her. How could he keep such a thing from her? Indeed, it was a deep betrayal, but Tallhya still felt awful that Walter had lost his daughter. And in a strange way, at that very moment all Tallhya wanted to do was be there for Walter. Though she had not met her step-daughter, Waltima, she was sure that knowing her was an amazing experience and loosing the bundle of joy, a child had to be a heart wrenching pain.

  Tears had also filled her eyes, and Bunny was at a lost for words. “Are you okay?” Bunny put her arm around Tallhya and nothing had to be spoken. The embrace simply said it all. “I’m here for you.”

  The two felt this chilling energy in the room, and on that note, “Not trying to be sympathetic, but this is so depressing. And can we just get the fuck outta here.” Bunny had enough.

  “Yes, I’m ready,” Tallhya had agreed.

  The funeral director, held a box of tissues in front of them and then Bunny asked, “Is it possible that I could have a card with the address, please I’d like to send some flowers,” as she took a few tissues for herself and handed a couple to her sister.

  “No problem,” the well dressed man said, going into the inside of his pocket pulling out a metal card case and handing her what she asked for.

  “Thank you. And you guys really did a good job,” Bunny complimented.

  “Thank you so much,” he said with a smile. “This is our calling.” Then he directed them to the hall, to the guest book, and instructed them, “Be sure to sign the book. I’m sure the family would like to know that you were here. That you came by and paid your respects.”

  “No thanks,” Tallhya said.

  Bunny interjected, “I think I will,” and she did and proceeded to sign the guest book. The second Bunny had crossed her T’s and put the pen down, that’s when the door popped open. And two ladies entered.

  “Yes, may I help you?” the one lady asked, as she looked the two sisters up and down.

  “We came here to pay our respects, so sorry for your lost,” Tallhya said as heartfelt as she could.

  “And . . . who are you?” the woman asked, with a raised eyebrow.

  A small chuckle came out, “Kimmy, calm down! I know who she is.” A tall confident, slim lady with body to die for pointed to Tallhya, then came in closer and spoke up.

  The beauty had taken on more curves than a racecar driver Tallhya looked her. She was drop dead gorgeous, in a rich kind of way. The woman was together in every since of the word. Her long twenty-six-inch weave stopped, at the small of her back and was straight like Pocahontas. “No worries, I know who she is,” she pointed at Tallhya in a snobbish kind of way.

  “Really?” Bunny questioned, returning the snoody look.
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  Tallhya only stared, at the woman. She was stunned at how fabulous and gorgeous she was.

  “That’s Natalia . . . the mark,” she boldly said, “you know the fat, pathetic, desperate, no self-esteem having, stupid bitch that Walter be juicing for all the money and shit. Remember, I told you all about her.” She laughed as if it was the funniest thing she had ever thought about. “That’s her,” she managed to get out somehow as hilarious as it was to her.

  Bunny wasn’t having it and had to bring the bewitching laughter to a halt. The cheap version of Pocahontas laughs quickly turned to cries for help. Before anyone knew it, Bunny had hit her like Foreman hit Frazier, sent her straight to the floor and out cold immediately turning the lights out in Pocahontas’ head.

  “Guess that will teach a no-good, two bit ho to laugh at my motherfucking sister.” Bunny was pissed and could not resist kicking her a few times the whole time, looking at Kimmy wishing to God Almighty that she would attempt to do anything. “Yes, I’m going to kick this bitch why she down,” she boldly said.

  The funeral director was in mere shock. All he kept saying was, “Oh, my! Oh, my!” He was reaching for the phone. Bunny saw him coming for the cordless phone resting on the charger. That was the only thing that made her stop kicking Pocahontas. She reached for the jack and tossed it across the room. “Oh, nigga you gone call the police on me? You bitch-ass nigga you?” She looked into his eyes and he thought he saw Lucifer himself in front of him.

  “Just leave then, please just leave,” he cried out.

  “Please sis, please let’s leave,” Tallhya said, knowing that Bunny would tear that place up. “Let’s just go,” Tallhya pleaded with tears in her eyes to her sister.

  “Okay,” she said, and followed after her. Before focusing her attention on Kimmy and with fury in her eyes, she said, “Tell that motherfucker Walter, he can get it, too. He’s a real coward-ass nigga. And as for this bitch, right here,” she pointed down at her. “Kindly let her know, I ain’t finished with her. Let that ho know, that since she was down for the get down that every time, I see her scheming-ass I’m going to wear her ass out.”