Lawd, Mo' Drama

by McKinney, Tina Brooks

  “Okay, be right back. Have a seat.”

  I switched into the kitchen as I waved him toward the sofa. Earlier, I had turned on a soft jazz station, but I should have put on some foot-tapping rap music to get rid of the sexual images playing out in my head. As I reentered the room, I began explaining my situation.

  “I told you that my husband left me and my children for another woman, and I hadn’t heard from him in more than six months. He called for the first time today.”

  “Damn, baby girl,” was all he could say, shaking his head. He took his glass from my extended hand and placed it on the glass cocktail table in front of him.

  “This was my past; up until the day I met you. Since then, I’m looking forward to a new job and possibly another place to stay; one that’s nicer than this dump!”

  “I’m listening,” he said, raising his glass to take his first sip of soda.

  “I was angry about my situation and my girlfriend, who’s on the way over here by the way, and decided to hit my husband where it hurt; in his wallet.”

  “How so?” he asked.

  “When Kentee left, he took some clothes and all the money in our joint bank account. He left a shit load of plumbing tools in the garage that I intended to sell. Before you say anything, I realize I was wrong, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. I had a complete stranger tell me that my husband has another family in Clayton County.”

  He chuckled. “So, you were going to have a Waiting to Exhale Moment?”

  My shoulders bunched up and my hands balled into tight knots. I started to kick his ass out, but I guess he read my mind.

  “Wait, Leah. I’m not here to judge you.” Coy raised his hands in the air to stop me from blowing up.

  “Thanks. Anyway, my girlfriend helped me change the locks on the doors, and I asked my neighbor to store the tools in his truck until I could find a buyer for them.”

  “Okay,” he said, gazing into my eyes and making me lose my train of thought.

  “You’re going to have to stop looking at me until I finish this story,” I said, batting my eyes.

  “Oh, my bad. I didn’t realize I had that effect on you.”

  I chose to ignore his statement; no matter how true it was.

  “When I got home today, there was a message on my answering machine from my husband asking about the tools. He said that if I don’t give them back, he’s going to hurt me, and I’m scared. The problem is my neighbor, all of a sudden, doesn’t know where the tools are. He says they must’ve gotten stolen from his locked garage.”

  “Oh, give me a break,” Coy said.

  “That’s what I said. The second part of the problem is that I’m sure Kentee was in here the other day; even though I changed the locks. That’s the only way he’d know the tools are gone.”

  “Whew!” Coy said. “Okay, let me think about this for a minute.” He sipped his Coke. The only sounds in the room were the clinking of ice cubes in our glasses and the soft jazz playing on the stereo.

  “Did I tell you how pretty you look?” he asked, throwing me completely off guard and causing me to blush.

  “No, you didn’t, but thank you. You’re looking mighty nice yourself,” I replied, meaning every word.

  “OK, back to business. I can talk to the neighbor and see what he says, and we’ll take it from there, but I have a feeling the tools you disposed of were previously stolen. I’ve got hot sheets in my car and, if I’m not mistaken, a large number of tools were taken over the last few months.” Standing up, he put his glass on the coaster and headed toward the door. For a crazy moment, I thought he was leaving.

  “Let me get my uniform and pay a friendly visit to your neighbor.” He left the house, then came back in the door talking.

  “I’m not a lawyer, but you do have rights since you’re still legally married to him. The law won’t force him to continue to pay the mortgage until you go through the abandonment case, but if what you’re telling me is true, the house will be foreclosed on before you can get on the docket. Since you’re not feeling safe, I’d suggest the first thing you do is file a restraining order against your husband.”

  “I can do that even though my name is not on anything?” I miserably asked. “He told the mortgage company I was a renter.” I looked at my watch and realized Sammie was late.

  “That’s actually good news; believe it or not.”

  “How so?” I was clearly confused.

  “Has he served you with eviction papers?”

  “No, of course not. His children live here,” I stated indignantly.

  “Wait, let me finish. As a tenant, he can’t drop a bomb on you like this. He has to give you more notice than the sheriff knocking on the door. That’s straight up scandalous if that’s what he’s intending. Did he contact you at all?”

  “No, tonight was the first time I heard from him since the day he left to go to work six months ago!”

  “Good. Now, as far as the tools, does he have a bill of sale for them?”

  “I’ve searched every piece of paper he left and I can’t find it. Maybe he has it with him but, somehow, I doubt it.”

  “That’s even better. If he asks you again, your response should be, ‘What tools?’ I want you to go to the courthouse in the morning and file that order. Play the tape for them. That’s your protection if he tries to come back into the house. Tell them that you’re afraid for the lives of your children and for yourself. Save all future messages from him, in case it winds up in court, but somehow I don’t get that feeling. What I’m about to say, you didn’t hear from me, okay?”

  “Sure,” I eagerly answered.

  “Under no circumstances admit that there were ever tools in the garage. If he wants to be Billy Bad Ass, tell him to file a police report, and I’ll handle the rest. Once we file the order, if he tries to enter again, we have him in violation of the restraining order.”

  I breathed my first sigh of relief.

  “That sounds good, but will it work?”

  “It will, if you follow my lead. I could get my ass in a sling for telling you this stuff, but I like you, and I hate to see a woman put through some bullshit ’cause of a stupid ass nigger following his dick around. Next question, how well do you know your friend? Would she have been involved in the removal of the tools?”

  “No, not at all. Sammie and I have been friends for years. She wouldn’t backstab me like that. Now, she might try to steal my man, but something like this? Naw, no way!”

  The doorbell rang and I quickly jumped up from the sofa to grab it before Sammie laid on it. She came in talking. She was dressed in a short white dress that made me want to cover my eyes and pray for her soul.

  Sammie was such a beautiful woman, but her style of dress left a lot to be desired. She could have taken lessons from other large women who dress more appropriately for their size, but Sammie was all about flaunting her stuff. Her makeup was done to perfection, and I chose to focus on that instead of her skimpy attire. I glanced at Coy. His mouth was wide open. Shutting the door, I turned to Sammie and made the introductions.

  “Sammie, meet Coy. Coy, meet Sammie.”

  “Damn, gurl, where you been hiding him?” she said, sitting across from him on the love seat. Her legs were slightly parted, and for a moment Coy’s eyes lingered on the split.

  Clearing my throat, I said, “Earth to Coy!” to bring him back into our conversation.

  He shook his head and looked back at me with a sheepish grin. I threw dagger-like looks at Sammie for showing up in her hoochie momma outfit.

  “Where the hell are you going?” I asked with attitude.

  “Gurl, I told you it’s Chippendale Night! I got to shake what my momma gave me!”

  “Gurl, your momma didn’t give you all that. You grew it on your own!

  “Oh, you got jokes,” Sammie said, slightly pissed off.

  “Oh, you mentioned it, but with all that’s been going on, I forgot! We were just discussing the tools and their whereabouts.�
��

  “OK,” she said, gazing at Coy like he was the last lollipop in the country.

  “Look, let me change. I’m going to pay your neighbor a visit to see if I can jog his memory; possibly scope out his garage. Where’s the bathroom?”

  I directed him. While he was gone, Sammie started pumping me with questions.

  “Gurl, if I had a nigger that fine in my living room, the last thing I’d do is call for backup. I’d have his ass backed up against the top side of my mattress!” she said with a throaty laugh. “His ass would be calling for backup!”

  “As if that thought didn’t cross my mind! Gurl, please, it was all I could do not to touch those muscles!”

  “Heifer, please. When God gave out looks, brotherman was standing in line three or four times!” she said, raising her hand for a high-five. I damn near slapped it off because she was so very right about Coy. He had it going on in all directions. He was great to look at, and he was not an asshole. I hated that I had to involve him in my drama, but I needed help.

  LEAH

  Coy came out of the bathroom and I swear to God, Sammie and I were panting for breath. I felt like he had taken all the oxygen out of the room, and we were struggling to use the little left in our lungs. All of a sudden I was pissed that Sammie was there. He was oblivious to our stares and all about business.

  “Leah, I’ll be back. Can you name any of the stuff that was in the garage?”

  “He had an industrial-sized sewer trencher, pipe cutters, and some other stuff that I had no idea what he used them for. All I know is that it looked expensive; especially the electric stuff.”

  “That’s good enough. Be back in a few. If all goes well, you’ll get either the tools or the money. If things don’t go okay, will you back me up if the shit starts to stink?”

  “Of course,” Sammie and I both responded.

  Driving his official police vehicle, he drove next door as I watched from the window. After a few minutes of brief conversation, I saw Coy enter James’ house.

  “Gurl, does he have any brothers? I don’t care if they’re ninety with one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel, as long as they look like him!” Sammie raved.

  “I don’t know. This is the first time I’ve spoken to him since we met. I was so wrapped up in this shit that I didn’t get the 4-1-1. I just hope his ass is single and that bulge in the front of those jeans wasn’t made by a wad of Kleenex!”

  “Gurl, I know what Kleenex looks like. That’s Grade-A beef up in there! Do you still need me around? I have to find my own beef jerky for tonight, if you know what I mean!”

  “I hear ya. Thanks for coming by. If he’s talking right, I’ll handle my business!” I said, slapping fives with her again.

  “Don’t forget to ask about the brother thang or someone else that looks as good as he does. He’s got my pussy wet!”

  “Gurl, you’re too much! I’ll call ya.”

  I was embarrassed by Sammie’s vulgar words. Sammie never failed to shock me with her candor.

  My own shit was wet, but I was not about to admit that to Sammie. I liked Sammie because she believed in keeping it real, but I was not verbal about animal attraction and fucking. Although the tapes played in my mind, I would never let anyone see my show.

  Coy came back an hour later waving a wad of green bills with a smile on his face. “When you go file the restraining order, you might want to stop by the bank and open up an account!”

  “You’re kidding me? How much did you get?” I was elated.

  “Seven thousand five hundred dollars,” he said with a broad grin.

  He handed me the money, and my hands trembled as I accepted it. That would be more than enough money for me to move and to have a little nest egg to fall back on in hard times. I was calculating all the things that we needed and was not paying much attention to Coy.

  “Leah,” Coy said, snapping his fingers in front of my face.

  “Sit down.” I did what I was told to do without any further questions.

  “Your neighbor did try to screw you. He sold the tools to a fence and he agreed to roll on him, if I left him out of it. That’s fine, but the bigger problem is that the tools were stolen. I have a sheet on them in the car. Some of them had been engraved, but I’m ninety-eight percent sure that these tools are the ones. I’m going to check your husband’s record out to see if he worked at the locations of the thefts. If he did, I’m going to have to bring your husband in. Are you okay with that? He could be facing some big time since the amount involved is considered grand theft. Are you okay with that?”

  “Wait, I’ll be right back,” I said, going into the kitchen and grabbing two beers. All of a sudden I needed one. I handed him one and sat back down beside him.

  “Let me make sure I understand you. You’re asking me if it’s okay to put the man who left my kids and me for another woman with no food, no money, and a piece of car that’s about to fall apart in jail? A man who was about to see his family put out in the street with no remorse? A man who told me that no wife of his will ever work and then leaves her? Are you talking about the same man who called and threatened my life? Oh, hell yeah! I’m down, all right,” I said as I raised my beer to clink with his.

  “Hey, where’s your friend?” he asked, looking around.

  “She had to leave, but she made me promise to ask if you had a brother or a friend that looked as good as you. I told her she couldn’t have you!” I giggled.

  “That’s rich. You tell her that I don’t have any brothers, and my closest friend is married. It’s a shame, ’cause he likes his women big, too!”

  “And you? How do you like your women?” I asked, wanting to get closer, but afraid of being rejected.

  “There’s nothing wrong with a little meat on the bones, but I don’t want to have to roll my woman in flour to find the wet spot.” He laughed.

  I once thought that Kentee was the best lover in the world but I quickly learned he was just humping in the dark. Coy’s eyes swept over me as I attempted to turn out the light. He reached over and grabbed my hand before I could flip the switch. Startled, I looked at him and saw the hot lust in his eyes. Never in my life, had I been fucked with the lights on and the images that flashed across my mind, I must say, well, it made me hot.

  “Turn around.” His voice was heavy.

  Nervously, I twirled around, licking my lips, hoping Coy would not notice my imperfections.

  “Slow down, baby, what’s the rush?”

  I stood rooted to the floor, unsure what he actually wanted from me. Slowly, I raised my hands over my sagging breasts as he motioned for me to turn around. I followed the slow rotation of his fingers with my eyes as I slowly spun in front of him.

  “Leah. Drop your hands. I want to see you.”

  My cheeks flushed red as I realized I was naked in front of a man that wasn’t my husband and who I had just met a few short days ago. I willed my arms down to my side and closed my eyes pretending this was actually normal.

  I completed the turn, and he exhaled.

  “You are beautiful.”

  This melted the ice for me a little.

  “Come closer. Step into the light.”

  “What’s the scar on your right shoulder?”

  “I ran into the jagged end of a fence when I was twelve playing kick the can with my friends.” I laughed as the memories of running around without a care in the world filtered back into my mind.

  Coy ran his finger over the raised scar sending shivers down my spine. He licked the scar and stepped back to see even more of me.

  “Your breasts…did you know one is longer than the other?”

  I sucked in my breath. Was he making fun of my sagging tits?

  “The twins favored the right, while Kayla favored the left.”

  “I think I like the left one.” He stepped forward again and gently fondled my breast. His touch shot liquid pleasure through my pussy. When his tongue replaced his fingers I could feel the moistu
re dripping down my legs. My nipples snapped to attention, jutting out as he suckled my breast as if expecting to receive the nourishment of my body. A small sigh escaped my lips. Coy stepped away and it was all I could do not to follow him and stick it back in his mouth.

  “Spread your legs,” he commanded.

  I did as he instructed no longer feeling nervous.

  “Not that way. Put your leg on the sofa and lean back. I wanna see.”

  Again, I followed his instructions. His penis was throbbing and I could see the swollen veins running down his shaft.

  “What’s with the scar on your stomach?”

  “It’s from my c-section. The twins had to be taken at the last minute.”

  He ran his finger across my stomach, tracing the edges of my scar, and when he reached the end, he bent down and kissed it, too. I was so caught off guard, by his tenderness. He ran his hands over my waist and on down to my hips, resting his hands there for a brief minute. My mouth became parched and my lips felt dry and cracked. I ran my tongue over them and willed some spit into my mouth.

  He dropped to his knees, his face inches from my hot pussy. I expected him to touch me there but he didn’t. He maneuvered his body until he was lying flat on his back, looking up at me. For a few seconds, he didn’t move and I started to get uncomfortable again. His eyes roamed my body and my pussy screamed at him to get on with the fucking!

  He scooted along the carpet until his face was directly under my pussy. He inhaled deeply as he ran his hands up the inside of my thighs as far as he could reach. He then ran them down my outer thighs. He rose up on his elbows for a closer inspection.

  “You have some moles.”

  Oh Lawd, I hate those things. I wanted to have them removed but never seemed to save up enough money to do so. There were three of them. One mole was on the left lip of my pussy and two smaller ones were on the right lip. In all the years of my marriage, I don’t believe Kentee even knew they were there because he never took the time to really look at me like this. I lowered my hands, wanting to cover them up and I attempted to put my leg down.

  “Don’t, Leah! Everything about you is beautiful.”