Lawd, Mo' Drama

by McKinney, Tina Brooks

  “But, Sammie, the reality is, even if I knew what he was making on his day job, he did so much stuff outside of work tax-free,” I said.

  “What about his clothes? Did he ever come back and get them?”

  “Naw, I even counted the number of drawers he left. Nothing’s been taken. I want to change the locks on the door, but I don’t have the money.”

  “Yeah, gurl, I don’t blame ya. Listen, I’ve got a few bucks. How ’bout I go pick up a lock and we change it? It shouldn’t be that hard,” she volunteered.

  “Hell, yeah! I’d hate to have him come here when I’m not home. The way I feel right now, he has no right to anything he left in this house!”

  “Give me an hour or two and I’ll be over,” she promised, hanging up the phone.

  I sat on my bed, smiling to myself and saying private thanks for my network of friends and family. Without them, I did not think I would have been able to make it.

  I checked my answering machine and saw the number from my old job. They had called back but they were not hiring. The next two messages were m. The numbers were blocked on my caller ID.

  Getting up quickly, I went to check on the kids. They had been quiet for a change, and that was not always a good thing in our household.

  As expected, Kayla was glued to the television, and Malik was attempting to color in his book. Most of his markings made it on the floor instead of the book.

  Mya was sitting in the same place where I had left her. She rarely bothered to play with toys. She took no interest in playing with her brother or older sister. And when she did show an interest in a toy, it was usually one that someone else was playing with, and she fought like a wildcat to get it.

  I surveyed our home, realizing it would take a lot of work to pack up all that stuff by myself. I moved from the living room; trying to judge how many boxes I would need. I walked through the foyer that led to the garage door. The garage itself would be a big chore. It was so full of tools that I could not even park my car inside. A light bulb flashed in my head. Kentee had swiped these tools from his day job and used them on the side to make extra money. Although I knew little about what the tools were for, some of them were quite expensive.

  I wandered through the garage inspecting each piece; even though I was ignorant as to its purpose. I began to realize that I was sitting on a gold mine and didn’t even know it. I made a mental note to ask Sammie about the treasure trove when she got there. If anybody would know how to hock stuff it would be Sammie.

  I went back into the house with a little pep in my step. If I can sell this stuff for at least a couple of thousand, I can make enough to move and get some work done on my car.

  I ran bath water for Kayla and laid out clothes for all the children for the morning. Mya was still on the floor staring into space, so I felt reasonably safe in the bathroom with Kayla. She bathed quickly because she did not want to miss the last cartoon before bedtime.

  I washed Malik in short order. He was a no-nonsense bather. He did not like baths, but he knew from experience he would not win by fighting me. He allowed me to do what needed to be done so he could get back to playing.

  Mya was the hard one. She detested having her clothes off and hated the water even more. Bathing her was pure hell, and it took all of my energy to get it done. Some nights I did not have the energy for it, but that night I was determined to give her a bath and do her hair. She fought me like a grown-ass woman, striking out and slapping me in the face.

  My face stung where her little hands struck, and I had to fight the urge to hold her tiny head under the water. “Come on, God, give me a break! Can’t you see I need a little help here?” I roared, and it sucked the fight right out of Mya. She lay in my arms like a rag doll. Stunned, I finished her bath and, wrapping her in a towel, carried her into her bedroom. She cooperated as I put on her nightclothes, and sat up straight and tall as I brushed her silky hair, twisting it into two long braids down her back. Tying her head with a scarf, I laid her down on the pallet I had made for her on the floor. She did not utter a peep when I kissed her goodnight and turned off the light. Before shutting the door, I turned on the nightlight. Basking in the warm glow of my success, I called to Malik.

  “Come on, little man!” I yelled.

  Kayla was another story. She was working my last nerve. She wanted me to talk to her before turning out the lights.

  “Mommy, do you think Daddy knows I’ve been a good girl?”

  I wanted to stomp my feet and flap my arms in exasperation, but instead I put on my patient face and tried to speak without losing my cool.

  “I’m sure he does, honey.” I never wanted to lie to my children, and lately that was all I was doing.

  “I’ve been trying real hard! Does he know I’m about to go to big-girl school?”

  “Yes, baby. He knows you’re going to be six in a few weeks and you’ll be off to big-girl school carrying your own book bag and lunch box!” I tried to sound as excited as she was.

  “Will he be here when I go to school?”

  “I honestly don’t know, sugar. The important thing is that you know your father loves you; no matter where he is.” I hated myself for the lie I told.

  “Then why doesn’t he come see me?” A single tear slid down my daughter’s cheek. I could not form a response to her cry. Although she cried less and less, she was still a sad little girl when it came to her father. So far, I had refused to bad mouth her dad, but each day it was getting harder and harder. It was only a matter of time before I unleashed a load of fury and frustration on an innocent ear.

  “I can’t answer that, sweetheart. Daddy needs time alone to think. I’m sure he’ll call you one day soon,” I falsely promised. Kissing Kayla goodnight, I turned out the light and shut the door. I had not eased her mind, but there was little else I could do to satisfy her. The doorbell rang. I assumed it was Sammie so I rushed to the door, not wanting the noise to wake Mya.

  Sammie came in, loaded down with bags. She had stopped at the liquor store. I was thankful because my kids had taxed all my senses. I did not drink often, but trying times call for desperate measures. We hugged each other, and I motioned her to keep her voice down. We went into the kitchen to unload the packages.

  Getting right to work, Sammie peeled open the protective package the lock came in and started reading the instructions as I prepared cocktails. I was so ready for a drink that I was almost drooling. We toasted, and I gulped my drink. It burned all the way down; its warmth creeping down my spine.

  “Gurl, I can’t ever thank you enough for this,” I said, spreading my arms wide. “As much as I wanted to change the locks, I needed this drink more. Did you get your phone call?” I asked while she continued studying the directions. She brought all kinds of tools with her, and it reminded me of the stash in the garage. “Hey, I need to ask your advice when you’re done.” She looked up from the directions with a frown of frustration. “Dayum, my bad. Why you got to eye me like that?”

  “Because I can’t walk and talk at the same time. Figure out what you want me to do, and I’ll concentrate on that.”

  “Sorry to bumrush you, but I know you have a schedule to keep. Kentee left a whole lot of tools. I believe some of them are expensive. Do you know anyone who might be interested in buying them?” I asked.

  Sammie held the partially assembled lock in her hand and cocked her head to one side, thinking. I had forgotten how handy Sammie was. When she had had her other car, the old “Flintmobile,” she was constantly under the hood fixing one thing or another, and she continued to use those skills.

  “What type of tools?” she asked, still not giving me her full attention.

  “Plumbing shit, I don’t know. You can take a look.” I took another sip of my drink.

  “If I can’t find anyone, Jessie will know of someone.”

  “Oh, Lawd, you’re still fooling around with Jessie?” I was totally dismayed. I did not even want to mess with that fool. I had heard enough horror st
ories about him. “I don’t want to piss you off, but I won’t sleep tonight if I don’t say this.”

  “Aw, man!” She tried to shut me up before I started to preach.

  “You know where I’m going. Marie would be rolling around in her grave if she knew that you’re still dealing with Jessie. That man pimped you, verbally and physically abused you, threatened to kill you, and you’re still kicking it with him. That’s unacceptable.”

  “Jessie’s not the man he used to be. He’s cool. He even got married again, but he still comes around to hit this.”

  She proudly patted her rotund behind. I shook my head in disgust.

  Sammie moved to the door and started taking the existing lock apart while I sat at the table and nursed my drink. My mind was active, and it called up memories that should have been left in Marie’s grave. Poor Marie, she fought so hard to keep Sammie on the straight and narrow. Now, despite her best efforts, Sammie was still running amuck. I could not help but to feel that Sammie was disrespecting Marie’s memory by even talking with Jessie; let alone fucking him.

  “Jessie ain’t no good for you,” I blurted. “Can’t you feel Marie every time you utter his name?” I asked. If she couldn’t feel her, I could; enough for the both of us.

  Sammie put down her tools and sat on the sofa. Her head rested on her chest, and for a few minutes she didn’t speak. Then: “Yeah, I feel her, every day, but she ain’t here. Jessie comes through when I need him. I know you don’t believe this, but prison changed him. He ain’t the abusive man who went to jail in the first place.”

  “And what changed that?” I found it hard to believe a leopard could change his spots.

  “Probably a big burly roommate named Bubba.” Sammie cracked up with laughter. I laughed with her because it was probably true. As the laughter died, Sammie got serious.

  “I can understand your reluctance to involve Jessie in your life, so you have to answer a few questions. Do you really need to hock this stuff now? Why not move it so he can’t get to it?”

  “Damn, why didn’t I think of that?” I replied. “I really need the money the tools will bring, but I want to also teach that bastard a lesson he won’t soon forget.”

  “You didn’t think of it because your ass has too many other things on your brain.” She snickered and deep-sixed the remainder of her drink.

  Spurred into action, I called my next-door neighbor, James, who had been itching to get in my panties.

  “James, it’s Leah. I need a favor. Can you come over here?”

  “What’s up?” he asked in his thick New York drawl. He appeared nonchalant but I knew that he was curious about my late-night call.

  “I’ll explain when you get here,” I told him.

  He was at the door almost before I could get the phone back on its cradle. For a moment, I worried about the possessive three-ton bitch he had left at home, but since he did not appear worried, I decided not to give her a second thought. On the other hand, he was obviously thinking about me. He was more than willing to do what I asked and helped me store all of the tools in his truck.

  While James and I unloaded the garage, Sammie finished with the locks. When we were finished, I gave James a kiss on the cheek, and he groped my ass while I was within touching distance. James was a good-looking man, but the heman-sized woman living with him killed any desire I might have felt toward him.

  I pulled my car into the now empty garage and closed the door. The final thing we did was change the password on the garage door. I did not have to worry about Kentee using his remote for the garage since he had lost it a while ago. For the moment, I felt safe.

  “Thanks, Sammie, I couldn’t have done this without you. I still need you to hock the tools to raise money for my move,” I told her.

  Getting her drink on, Sammie barely paid me any mind as she tried calling her male peeps to line up a date for later on. I could not help but laugh at her as she pulled out her Bible-sized little black book. She thumbed through the pages; dialing number after number until she made a score. I wasn’t mad at her. I wished I had my own black book.

  It had been over six months since I had had my coals stoked, and I was feeling it. That was a long time for someone who was used to get it on the regular. I sucked on my own drink, feeling lightheaded and slightly pissed. Didn’t I deserve happiness, too? Obviously not!

  “So, have you heard from Tyson?” I asked Sammie when she hung up the phone.

  She was grinning from ear to ear. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I did. He got married and they’re expecting my first grandchild.”

  “Where’s he stationed?” I asked.

  “He’s in Virginia Beach. I went up to see him last week, and they’re doing good.”

  “And your mother?” I asked, thinking all was well in Sammie World. “How is she?”

  Sammie’s face changed immediately, and I was sorry that I had brought her up. I assumed that time had healed all the old wounds but, obviously, I was wrong.

  “Sammie, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Gurl, don’t sweat it. Althea’s going to be Althea. I haven’t really heard from her directly in over a year, but she still keeps in contact with Tyson. When she gets upset, she’s like a dog with a bone. I hate that woman.”

  “Sammie, hate is a strong word for your mother,” I admonished, forgetting the low down I had gotten from Marie about Sammie’s relationship with her mother.

  “Shit, she started it. She blames me for everything that went wrong in her life. She even blames me for Kendall’s and Marie’s deaths. Hell, she didn’t even like Marie, but she told Tyson that if Marie hadn’t gotten hooked up with me she’d still be alive. The truth is, she had a problem with me from birth. She made my life hell and sold me off in marriage to Jessie as long as he took me out of state. What kind of mother would do that to her child?”

  Sammie could not hold back the tears that unexpectedly stung her eyes. I wrapped my arms around her massive shoulders and we cried together for our fallen friend. It had been two years since Marie was killed, and her death was still a very tender subject for all of us who loved her. But the memories were complicated because Marie nursed us both through our individual trials and tribulations.

  I pushed myself away from Sammie. “Marie wouldn’t want us to cry over her like this. She would want us to celebrate life.” I raised my glass toward Sammie in a toast. Sammie wiped her eyes and lifted her glass, but the smile that crossed her lips was not heartfelt.

  “That’s my Sammie,” I said, and we spent the rest of the evening chit-chatting about everything under the sun.

  “I have a question I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Sammie said after awhile.

  “Shoot,” I replied.

  “How did you find out Kentee was cheating on you?”

  “Initially, I suspected him because of his late hours and overnight business trips. But he made the mistake of leaving his pager here one day when he went to work. It kept going off, and I got curious.”

  “Gurl, don’t tell me you answered his pages!” Sammie whooped out loud.

  “No, but I did write down the number that keep popping up. It was the same person every time, and whoever it was called every fifteen minutes.”

  “Did you ask him about it?”

  “Not right away. I pretended ignorance. After about a week, I went in the bathroom and paged his number from my cell phone. I put her number in and put 9-1-1 behind the number. He waited a few minutes and went into the kitchen to get a drink, but I knew he was going to check the page. When he went to bed, I hit redial and got his access code. The rest is history.”

  “Damn, gurl, you’ve been watching way too much television.” She laughed so loud I was afraid she would wake Mya.

  “It got worse. I started checking his voice mail every day, and this heifer would leave him all kinds of sexy messages. I even taped them.”

  “No, you didn’t.” Sammie howled.

  “Yes, I did! When the shit hit the fan
, I needed to have proof. You want the number? You can listen in on his messages, too.”

  Sammie held out her hand, and I quickly wrote down his voice mail number and the password. She was laughing, her mirth rocking her body. She laughed so hard that the underside of her arms swung wildly. I tried to keep her quiet, for the kids’ sakes, but Sammie was not to be cheated out of a good laugh.

  “This is rich! I’m going to check it tonight when I get home,” she said.

  “Check it often. They leave each other all kinds of love messages all day long. It’s a wonder he can get any work done, with all the messages she leaves him. Hell, I used to think I was the freak of the week, but apparently the girl has skills.”

  I tried to sound like this did not hurt me, but talking about it made me feel bad and like less of a woman. Sammie shook her head, then began gathering her stuff.

  “Look, gurl, I’ve got to hit the road. It’s a long way home from this god-forsaken town you choose to live in.”

  “Hey, Peachtree City is the bomb! I have everything I need right here!” I exclaimed.

  “Whatever,” she replied, following me to the door.

  I went to sleep slightly drunk but feeling more secure. I woke sometime around one a.m. with the distinct impression that I was not alone. It took a few minutes before I got my bearings. I thought I heard somebody at the front door, but I quickly dismissed the thought.

  Getting up, I went to check on the children first to make sure Mya was not up to anything, and then I checked all the windows and doors. The kids were still tucked in, just as I had left them hours before. I could not shake the nagging feeling that someone had been there. My gut instinct told me to call the police, but I brushed off those feelings and attributed it to the drinking that I had done. Determined to get a few more hours of sleep, I climbed back in bed. I did not have any more dreams, but my sleep was restless.

  SAMMIE

  I was grateful to escape Leah’s. Thinking about Marie was something I did not like to do. I backed out of Leah’s driveway with fresh tears pouring out of my eyes. As much as I loved Marie, my mental health forced me not to dwell in the past. After all, Marie died in my arms, and for a long time I could not forget it.