“Why all the questions about something that doesn’t concern you?” his father asked, taking the items from his son.
“I was just curious, that’s all. How long is that going to take, Pops? I gotta get back to work.”
“As long as it takes. I hope you don’t plan to leave without seeing your mother when she gets home. She’s been asking about you. You got to let go of all the anger you have toward her, or you’re not getting through those pearly gates. She’s repented for what she did to both of us. It’s time to let it go, son.”
“You let it go. I don’t have to. She owes me more than her dying days. I guess that’s enough for you.” Angelo waited until his father had poured the last bottle of oil in, and then he cranked up the limo. “Call me when she gets back, and I’ll show my face. Is that what you want?”
“What I want is for you to grow up and act like a man. That’s what I want. As a matter of fact, keep the limo, make your own money, and live out of it if you have to. I refuse to keep taking care of a disrespectful grown child.” Angelo Sr. slammed the hood of the car down. “Make sure you see your mother when she gets back, but I don’t want to see you again until you can approach me as a man.”
“So what do you expect me to do for money?”
“You said you’re working a side job. Like the Bible says, if a man doesn’t work, he doesn’t eat. It’s up to you if you go hungry or not. I’m done letting you eat of the plate the Lord has given me.” He walked back into the mortuary, never looking back.
“You say the same shit every time I pull up to this bitch. I love you too, Pops.”
Chapter Six
Devin was up with the rise of the sun and decided to cook his queen breakfast, but he couldn’t find any breakfast meat to prepare. He didn’t know his way around the kitchen, but after all the mouth Meagan had given him the night before, he wanted to show his gratitude. He threw two eggs in a pot of boiling water and preheated the oven to five hundred degrees. He couldn’t find a baking sheet, so he lined a cast-iron skillet with aluminum foil, drizzled vegetable oil on top of it, put three pieces of bread in it, and threw it the oven.
After that, he went into the entertainment room to watch the latest music videos he had missed from not having cable back at his mama’s house. Before the rapper in the video made it to the hook, the fire alarm was blaring through the house and the phone began ringing off the hook. Meagan was making her way down the stairs, with the cordless phone glued to her face.
“Thank you for calling, but everything here is fine,” after she went into the kitchen and sized up the situation. “The smoke from the oven triggered the alarm,” she said, waving the smoke out of her face as she opened the oven door and reached for the cast-iron skillet with her bare hands.
“Fuck.” She dropped the phone at the feel of the heat against her index finger.
Devin rushed into the kitchen. “I’m sorry, baby. I was trying to bring you breakfast in bed. I left the kitchen for only a second.”
“Sorry won’t cure the throbbing in my finger. What the fuck were you thinking when you put bread in a cast-iron skillet? And look at those eggs.” The eggs had broken open when they were immersed in the boiling water, but he hadn’t paid them any attention. His thoughts had been on the conversation they had about her husband’s sneaky moves and him wanting to replace her pain with a smile. “If your young ass doesn’t know what you’re doing in the kitchen, stay the fuck out of it. Now move.” She turned the fire off beneath the burner and retrieved the butter from the refrigerator.
“Don’t put butter on it, baby. Let it soak in some cold water for a while.”
She gave him the look of death as she massaged the butter on the palm of her hand. She had worked with William in the kitchen all her life. If he used butter, so would she.
“My husband always uses butter.”
“Fuck your husband. I’ll kill him.”
“What?” Meagan said, with attitude still present. He had gone from one extreme to the next, and with the uncomfortable burning sensation in her finger, she wasn’t in the mood for his temper tantrum.
“I’ll kill him, and if your driver is on some slick shit, I’ll kill him too.”
“Because your ass almost burnt my kitchen down, now you want to kill people? Don’t talk like that,” she said at the speed of light.
“Why not? How am I supposed to show you that I’m the man you need, and that I have your back, if I sit back and let these old heads fuck you over? You’re my woman, Tammy . . . I mean, Meagan, and can’t no nigga on this earth fuck you over while I’m still breathing.”
“Shut up. You sound stupid. Nobody is getting killed.”
“I sound stupid because I’m in love with you or because you think I’m too young to make that kind of decision? Which is it?”
“Neither,” she said, wrapping a dish towel around her finger. “You sound stupid because you’re ready to take a life or lives before you know what’s going on. Are you willing to do life in prison and not know what you’re there for?”
“You get life only if you get caught, and love is a good enough reason to me.”
“Love ain’t shit. I told you what the driver told me and what I found out on my own. Divorcing him gives me half of all of this to go with what I already got. If—”
“But if I kill him, you get all of this, plus what you already got,” he said, cutting her off. “And if you love me like you said you did on this dick, take that young word out of your vocabulary and see me as the man that I am.”
She was at a loss for words, and the conversation had kept heading south. “Change the subject, Young Diablo. My finger is in need of your lips.”
He walked over to her and unwrapped the towel, revealing the greasy redness of her finger. Softly, he planted kisses all over her hand, making his way up to her wrist. From there the kisses moved up her arm to her shoulder blade, her neck, and finally her lips. He was so smooth with his movements that she didn’t realize at first that he had picked her up and sat her on the island in her kitchen.
“What am I doing up here?” She giggled like a teenage girl with a crush on her favorite teacher.
“Feeding me breakfast, since I can’t cook to feed you. Now open up.”
She spread her legs, giving his eyes a view of the pearl in her oyster, and he wanted to suck it out of its shell. She lay back, missing the condiments on the counter by an inch, and closed her eyes. The conversation about murder was no longer on her mind as he penetrated her over and over again with his tongue.
William walked into the foyer just then and was met by smoke. “Baby, I’m home. What the hell is burning?”
Meagan jumped off the counter and didn’t know which way to turn. There wasn’t a way for her to get Devin out the kitchen without him passing William, and he was dressed too hip-hop to say he was a fire marshal. She scanned the area, and there were only two choices. She could stuff Devin’s ass in the oven or the pantry. With about three seconds to go before her husband was in her face, she grabbed Devin and pushed him into her pantry.
“When we go upstairs, leave,” she whispered. She closed the pantry door a half second before her husband walked into the kitchen.
“What the hell happened in here?”
“I put breakfast on and went back upstairs to get ready for work, but my RA flared up, and I couldn’t get off the bed. You’re back early.” She walked over to William and kissed him on his cheek.
“Why did you try to fry bread in the oven?” he said, looking into the skillet. “You must have been smoking again.”
“No. Just wanted to try something new. Everything must be back to normal in Florida?”
“No. I was missing you, baby, so I took the red-eye back. I got something for you,” he said, putting his bags down and unzipping his pants. Meagan placed her hands over his, preventing him from pulling his pants all the way down. Curious about the gift William was about to give his wife, Devin cracked the pantry door just enough to se
e.
“I missed you too, and I want that gift, but let’s take it upstairs. The smell is starting to bother me.”
“Then hold your nose.” He grabbed her arms and forced them behind her, as if he was going to apply handcuffs. “Because I want my fat cat now.” With vigor, he bent her over onto the island.
“You can have it, but let’s take this up—” He words were silenced by the palm of his hand.
“I’ll take one of my pills when we get upstairs, and I’ll give you some up there too. This hard dick is all natural right now. Let’s not fuck that up.” He slid his fingers under her robe and was met by hot fluid.
“Damn. You want Daddy bad, huh? You’re soaking wet.”
Devin wanted to bust through the door and yell, “I got her like that, nigga.” But this was his chance to prove to Meagan that he had her back, so he bit his tongue and continued to watch.
“I do want it bad, but in our bed.”
Deaf ears heard her words as he slid his meat inside her and began pumping. The geriatric porno Devin watched made him feel sick more than it pissed him off to watch his woman being penetrated raw by another man. There was a huge age difference visible between the two, and being a witness to molestation wasn’t his thing, although he was watching his and Meagan’s situation in reverse. When his eyes had seen enough, he grabbed the open bag of potato chips off the shelf in front of him and had himself a snack.
He’s old as fuck. They’ll be done soon, so I can bounce, he thought.
“It’s about that time, baby. Where you want it? Fuck it. I ain’t getting no younger. Let’s work on this baby.”
Before he could let the built-up pressure out, she yelled, “I want it in my mouth.” She pulled him out of her and turned around to face him, but it was too late. Her face got painted, from her false eyelashes down. Devin dropped the bag of chips at her words but never thought the sound would be so loud.
“Did you hear that?” William asked, pulling his pants up from his ankles, eager to check the pantry.
“No, I didn’t. I’m kinda blind over here. Can you get me a washcloth out of the linen closet please?”
“Yeah, after I see what that sound was.”
Meagan’s heart stopped beating. She hoped she’d die before William had the chance to kill her. She watched her husband grab the door handle and push the pantry door open.
“The chips fell off the shelf. I’m going upstairs to get ready for round two. Make sure you clean this shit up before you come up.” He closed the pantry door.
“What happened to getting me a washcloth?” she asked, and her voice cracked with each word.
“Use the dish towel next to you. I’m tired.”
“Typical,” she said, not wanting to roll her eyes lest his semen get in them.
“If it’s typical of me, then it shouldn’t come as a surprise to you.”
She washed her face with warm water in the kitchen sink and waited for her husband to reach the top of the stairs before she went into the pantry. Chips were everywhere, but there was no sign of Devin. There wasn’t a way out besides through the kitchen, and she was sure he didn’t know magic, which meant he had squeezed his little ass into the broom closet. He stepped out and handed her the broom and dustpan before she could open the door.
“You gotta go now,” she whispered.
“I know.” He went to give her a kiss but remembered what had made him drop the chips in the first place. Not wanting to be in the vicinity of her mouth, he kissed the tip of her nose and made his way out of the kitchen and out of the house.
William was in the shower when she made it to their bedroom.
“Georgia Peach, come here for a second. I need to talk to you.”
“What?”
“Why are you standing in the doorway? Come get in the shower with me.”
“I don’t want to get in the shower with you.”
“I don’t recall asking you what you wanted, little girl.”
The age shit was getting on her nerves, and she swore if she ever considered giving Devin a real shot, she’d drop the words young, little, and boy, like he had asked.
After she got in the shower, William said, “I need you to take the day off. We got some business to handle at the lawyer’s office today.” He handed her the washcloth. “Get my back for me.”
“And what business is this?”
“I want to make sure if anything happens to me or you, we are both straight and everything is situated. I’m talking insurance policies, our businesses, grave plots, and all. We’ve been putting it off long enough, don’t you think?”
“I told you that a long time ago. Why the change of heart now?” she asked, scrubbing his back harder than she had done before.
“Because I run this show, and now I feel like it’s time we get it done.”
She smacked her lips, and he smacked her across her face. For the first time in years, she was ready to fight back. She dropped the soap and the washcloth and then dug her nails into his neck. William was getting old, so his reflexes weren’t as fast as they had been in the past, nor did he expect retaliation. It wasn’t until he felt the sting of his open flesh meeting the warm water that he quickly grabbed her by the neck and flung her through the shower curtain. She fell face-first over the rim of the connecting tub and onto the marble floor.
“I’m sorry, William. Please don’t.” Her hands were the white flags as she curled her body up into a ball and waved them desperately in front of her face, but William didn’t attack.
“I don’t have time for this shit right now. We have business to handle. Take yourself down the hallway and get ready. You better be ready before I am too. Don’t think I’m going to forget about my neck.”
Meagan was showered, dressed, and ready before William had applied lotion to his body. He was on the phone when she walked back into their bedroom.
“I don’t have an hour to wait on you to get here, Angelo. Next time you decide to do a drop off in Chattanooga, make sure you call and let me know first. Now I have to use Mr. Perkins’s slow ass. Meet me at the lawyer’s office when you get back.” There was a silence. “Everything is okay. I got Mrs. Tolliver with me. Yep . . . nope. Uh-huh . . . hell naw.” And then he laughed. “See you when you get back.”
“So I take it that you and the new driver have become friends?” She couldn’t help but ask as the smile lingered on his face from his phone conversation.
“He’s an all right young man. I think he’s about your age. He has a lot of growing up to do, but hell, at forty years old, you do too. I shouldn’t have to keep disciplining you to get you to do right. I don’t understand why you need to learn everything the hard way.”
Meagan was going to attempt to answer his question, but the folded dollar bill and the empty condom wrapper on William’s nightstand required her immediate attention. She scooped the items up, and before she could put them in her bra, she noticed multiple puncture holes in the condom’s wrapper. She wasn’t sure if they had been there before they used the condom, and now wasn’t the time to try to figure it out. She stored the traces of another man being there in her bra and then grabbed the lotion to rub on his back.
“I’m sorry, my love. I’ll do better,” she said with a smile on her face.
Part Four
Disrespectfully Dead
Chapter Seven
The meeting at the lawyer’s office was awkward, to say the least. Tommy Hunt couldn’t concentrate on the documents he had been working on, as he was staring at the scratches on his client’s neck and the swelling of his client’s wife’s jaw and eye.
“I’m sorry, but before you sign your will making your wife the executor of your estate, Mr. Tolliver, I have to ask . . . Are you being forced to do so? I mean, your neck is scratched up, and look at her jaw. And that other swelling has almost closed her eye. Maybe we should be discussing the parameters of your assets if the two of you decide to divorce.”
“We’re fine, Tommy. Meagan slipp
ed on the bathroom floor and tried to grab me to stop the fall. Instead, I got scratched up, and she hit the marble floor.”
“Save the crap, William. I’m a family lawyer, too, and I see domestic violence cases on a regular basis. They mostly involve divorce. Y’all are killing each other, and after that phone call . . .” Tommy closed his mouth before he destroyed his client’s confidence. He was William’s lawyer, and he refused to let himself get caught up in his emotions and forget that fact.
“What phone call?” Meagan asked, looking into her husband’s eyes.
“He’s talking about the call I made to him about the food poisoning,” William lied. “The boxes of dressing that made everyone who ate it sick were shipped to Florida as overstock from Atlanta. It looked as if they were shipped there on purpose, and since either you or I had to sign off on it, it made it look suspicious.”
“Suspicious? How?” she questioned.
“The dates had been changed on each container. The salad dressing had been expired for almost a year when it arrived, and you were the one who signed off on it. That’s it.”
“I always check the dates.”
“As I know you do. That’s why I didn’t bring it to your attention, Georgia Peach. But I had to call my lawyer about the whole thing because they had me on the news and portrayed me in a not so good light. Now, Tommy, can we get through these signatures? I have the limo driver waiting.” He read the text Angelo had sent him announcing his arrival.
“Sure. Mrs. Tolliver, your paperwork is done. If you don’t mind, can you take it down the hall and have Katrina stamp the pages for me, please? My pad seems to be out of ink.”
She hesitated and then snatched the folder out of his hand. She walked out the door a few steps and then eased back toward it to listen.
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