Ex-girl to the Next Girl (16 page)

“Do you want any popcorn or anything? Their Nachos are really good,” he said.

“No.”

“You sure?” he asked.

“I'll take something to drink. I'll take a Sprite.”

“They have Sierra Mist. What about some candy?”

“If they have Skittles, I'll take them. I'll be right back—I'm going to go to the ladies' room.”

I walked into the crowed bathroom. I didn't really have to go. I just needed an exit. I had to get my thoughts together. I checked my hair and face. My eyes were still a little puffy, but I looked way better. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. For a moment, I wanted to cry again, but I stopped myself. I had to admit that Malik is gone forever. Move on, girl, you have to, I told myself. I took a deep breath. Okay, you're on a date. Andrew is a nice person. You don't have the kids. You're out, you should be having fun. Enjoying yourself, not thinking about Malik. I took another deep breath and walked out of the bathroom. I saw Andrew holding two sodas and a large thing of Twizzlers.

“They didn't have any Skittles so I got you Twizzlers.”

“Thank you,” I said taking the Twizzlers out of his hand.

 

 

After the movie we met up with his friends at a karaoke bar in Deptford, New Jersey. All his friends from the night we met were there. Even the guy Rick was with a date and having fun. I guess he got over his brother getting married. We had a lot of fun watching them get on stage and make fools of themselves. I was having so much fun I didn't notice people were staring at me, but I felt eyes burning a hole in my back. I turned around and I looked over at a couple to the right of us. Every time I would turn around, the man was in my face. As the couple left, the man said, “You need to find yourself a good black man and leave that cracker alone.” I couldn't believe the boldness of the couple.

“Do you know them? Are you okay?” Andrew asked.

“No, I'm fine,” I said realizing he didn't hear what the couple had said about him.

He walked me to my car. He gave me a kiss on the cheek and told me to be careful. Once I was in my car, he called me on my cell.

“Are you sure you're okay?”

“Yes, I'm fine.”

“I had a nice time with you this evening—maybe we can get together sometime this weekend. I'll call you,” he said.

“Okay.”

I don't know if I can deal with Andrew. Most people just do a double take and then they smirk and look away. We get mixed looks. It was weird—I felt like we were back in the day. What was surprising is I got stares from white women just as angry and just as hard as the stares a black man would receive from a sister if he was dating a white woman.

I
t's been a month since Malik gave me any money. I had to pay everything myself. I just put our rent money in the bank so that can be paid on time—at least we will have somewhere to live. Malik has been looking for a job, but he hasn't had an interviews yet. Law firms would rather pay a recent grad less money to do the same job as someone with experience. In the meantime, I don't mind holding Malik down. It's just that that niggah named Omar is downstairs. I don't like the fact Omar is in my basement at all. He is not contributing to anything. The other day I went into the basement to wash clothes and there were Olde English 40 bottles lined up against the wall. There was something yellow in one of the containers and it wasn't beer. I looked at it closer—it was pee.
Oh, his ass got to go,
I thought. Cigarette butts, Blunt wrappers, and weed particles and Baggies. I don't know why I'm putting up with this bullshit. His brother ain't bringing no money into our household. As a matter fact, Malik ain't good for nothing. He better hurry up and get a job for real—this is serious. I spent my whole check on bills. I didn't even have enough left to get my hair done. I got a man—fuck that, I got a husband, and I'm struggling. As soon as Malik walked in, I told him how unhappy I was with the present situation.

“Malik, I want to talk to you about Omar.”

“What about him?”

“He has to go! One, he funks up the basement. Two, he don't do nothing all day—he uses dishes and don't clean up. Then he's pissing in bottles in my damn basement.”

“I'm going to talk to him,” he said as he went up the steps.

“You going to talk to him? What can you possibly say to him! ‘Omar, stop being a nasty bastard.' He is nasty—I don't like him.”

“Listen, I'm all he has. What do you want me to do?”

“You are not all he has. He can go live with your mother.”

“I really don't have time for this shit. Shonda, sit down—I want to talk to you about something. I'm going to start getting my son more. Kim called and said I can have him for the weekend.”

My mouth dropped. My idea of a relaxing weekend was not watching her son. I don't feel like babysitting—my daughter is gone.
Why would I want to watch somebody else's child,
I thought.

“I don't care, but I'm going to be busy this weekend,” I said.

“So that's okay with you?” he asked.

“Sure, bring him over. I don't care—I'm not watching him,” I murmured.
And I'm not changing any funky diapers,
I thought.

 

 

I went to work, mad as hell. How was I supposed to keep functioning when I wasn't happy at home? I'm broke as shit, my man's derelict brother is in my basement. These bills are kicking my butt.

After work I was going to finish my conversation with Malik. I was thinking about it the whole day. I walked in the living room and he was watching basketball. I turned the television off and said, “Malik, we need to finish our conversation.”

“About what, Shonda? I'm tired of talking,” he said as he turned his back to me.

“What are you tired from? You ain't do shit all day.”

“I'm looking for a job. I'm on the computer every day.”

“Well, you need to look a little harder, 'cause I can't keep holding everything together by myself and I'm not taking care of your brother.”

“My brother ain't even been here that long.”

“He's got to go,” I said.

“He is not going anywhere. If he goes, I'm going.”

“Well,” I said, looking him directly in the eye.

“Well, what?”

“Well, maybe you need to leave, too. 'Cause I'm not taking care of two grown men,” I said as I left Malik and his funky-ass brother in the house.

I drove to my father's house. I used my key to open the door. I startled him as I walked through the door. He was sitting reading a newspaper.

“Dad I need to talk to you.”

“You okay?”

“No, Malik moved his brother into the house and everything has been going wrong ever since.”

“Well did you talk to Malik about it?”

“Yes, and he won't do anything but take up for his brother and he told me if he leave I leave.”

“I don't know what man would choose his brother over his wife. But if you think it's not going to work out, you might as well get you marriage annulled because it doesn't make any sense wasting time with somebody who isn't working. You get to be my age and it will be too late and you will have wasted your life. Either make it work or leave. I thought about what my dad said and decided to make it work. I went home and made up with Malik.

 

 

Malik was out with Kayden. He has been getting him more often. I didn't care as long as he didn't spend time with Kim, because I know how she is all hyped on trying to get her family back, but that's a big not-going-to-happen.

The next day I walked into the office. I heard Sergeant Wilson tell Riddick, “I'll send Robinson with you.” Wilson turned to me and said to come on. I had no idea where we were going. We turned the corner and I saw a female inmate frantically shaking. They ordered me to hold her head so she wouldn't hit it again. There was blood flowing from a gash on her head. I took out my plastic gloves and placed my hands behind her head. She stared mindlessly in the air. I had never seen anybody go into a seizure before. It was like she was a zombie in a trance.

We escorted her to the nearest local hospital and waited with her while they treated her. The hospital was extremely busy. They ran out of examination rooms, so patients were waiting on gurneys in the hallway. In the emergency room every seat was taken. “Can we wait outside?” I asked as I looked around at all the sick people.

“No, if something happens to her, we both are responsible. We have to wait. You want a stick of gum?” I said yes and she passed me the gum. I popped the gum in my mouth and she continued to talk. “She could come out of that seizure and be out. And then we both would be out of a job. I remember one time, we had an inmate that was in labor handcuffed to the bed. Freedom is a beautiful thing and they lost theirs,” she laughed.

I guess she was right, but I still didn't feel comfortable having a sick person restrained to a bed.

 

 

After work I went to Tae's new apartment. I had to meet Tae's new Mr. Wonderful, Kenneth. I was in no rush to go to my own home. My house is so miserable, I can't even move around in my own space. Me and Malik have been arguing every day. Omar has put a definite strain on our marriage. So it will be nice to see somebody else happy. And Tae must be happy, because every time I talk to her, all she talks about is her man. I had to see if he really existed. After Poppa Smurf, any man is going to be good for her. Tae and her new boyfriend were moving so fast. Already they were living together. If she was happy, I guess I was happy.

I had to walk up three flights of steep steps to get to her apartment. I was out of breath. I knocked on her apartment door and Tae answered.

“You made it. Come in and take a look around,” she said while pulling me into the apartment. Her kitchen was on the left and the living room was on the right of the kitchen. A few steps away from the living room was the bedroom, and beside that was the bathroom. Her apartment was small, but just right for two people.

“You want something to eat?” Tae asked.

“Yeah, it smells good. So what are you cooking?”

“He's cooking fried tilapia, corn, and rice.”

“He cooks, too?” I asked as I opened my mouth in disbelief and thought, he is perfect.

“Does he cook? He is going to get me fat. He has been cooking almost every day since we moved in. He even went with me to get my nails done and just sat there and waited with me,” she said.

“Okay, he sprung. What did you put on him?” I asked.

“Nothing—I swear. He put something on me,” she whispered, leaning closer to me.

“Damn, I need a man like that. Malik and his brother don't do shit, but leave dishes in my sink and dirty up. I'm the only one that cleans the house. Did I tell you what I found in my basement?”

“No, let me guess—a gun?”

“No, pee in a damn bottle.”

“Oh hell, no. His ass got to go,” she said as she got up.

“I know—I told Malik, he just isn't listening,” I said as I sampled some of the talapia he had made.

“So, are you in love?” I asked.

“I think so.”

“Either you are, or you're going to play with him. You have anything to drink?” I said. Tae got up and poured me a glass of pink lemonade.

“I think I like him. He makes me feel special. We went to the mall the other day and there were all these other women around, and he didn't look around at them. The entire time, he just kept his eyes on me. I think I'm giving up on my rich-man dream. I'm just trying to build with my husband and get money together. He wants to get married—he has a pretty good job and is just a good guy.”

I couldn't take it anymore. Okay, he wants to settle down, cooks, knows how to put it down, and pays bills. Something is wrong. I had to see what this man looked like. He had to be a frog. Got to be.

“So where is he?” I asked.

“In the bedroom.”

“Call him out here—I want to see him. I mean, meet him.”

Tae screamed “Boo,” and out walked a tall, creamy brown muscular man with baggy pants and a large red t-shirt. He was so gorgeous.

“Hi,” I said, looking up at him.

“It's nice to finally meet you. We all have to get together and do something.” I agreed and then he turned to Tae and said, “Boo, did you start eating?”

“No, I gave Shonda some.”

“Well, I'm about to leave,” I said as I stood up and told Tae I had to get home. She walked me to my car. I congratulated her on her new place and new man.

When I arrived home, Malik was not there yet. He has been staying out a lot lately like it is my fault he doesn't have a job. He claims he's out drinking with Jarrod. Whatever.

Chapter
27

T
ae and her boyfriend Kenneth had invited us out to dinner.

Malik didn't want to go—he said he was tired.

“Baby, please go,” I begged.

“I don't feel like being in nobody's face. Your girlfriend's okay, but I don't know her man like that. I don't feel like it.”

I screamed at him, “I want you to go! Damn, Malik, you can't do nothing I ask you to do!”

“Fuck it, Shonda, if it is going to make you happy, I will go with you,” he said as he threw his shoe at the wall. The shoe almost hit me. I looked at him, then just grabbed the rest of my clothes and went into the bathroom to get ready. I started doing my hair and tried to concentrate on getting dressed. When I came out of the bathroom, Malik was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking unenthused. A tear began to roll out of my eye, landing on my shirt. Malik ignored my tears. He smirked at me and then asked me was I ready, and brushed his hair. He had slopped together an outfit. I wanted to tell him stay home, don't make me miserable with you.

I wiped my tears away and said, “Look, if you don't want to go, you don't have to.”

“I'm dressed now.”

You can get undressed
, I thought.

 

 

We arrived at Spiley's Restaurant and Bar. I walked in—it was new and had a modern look to it. Instead of regular booths, they had circular velvet booths with hanging, triangle-shape lights. It was very chic. My immediate thought was, I hope nobody notices my eyes were red. Tae and Kenneth were sitting at a table. We walked up to them. They were smiling and laughing, all coupled up, drinking champagne out of each other's glasses.

“I'm so glad you could make it,” Tae said.

“Yeah, we made it,” I said. I introduced Malik to Kenneth—they gave each other a firm handshake.

“What y'all drinking?” Kenneth asked.

“I'll have a Cosmopolitan,” I said.

“All right—I'll be right back, and you?” he asked Malik. Malik shook his head and said “I'm cool—I'll get my own drink.”

As soon as Kenneth left the table, Malik said he was going to the restroom. When he got up, Tae said, “Look at this, girl.”

“What is that?” I asked, looking down at what appeared to be an engagement band on her hand.

“A promise ring.”

“Congratulations—that is a nice promise ring.”

“Girl, it's not real, but he said we were going to buy me one just like this.”

Kenneth came back with my Cosmopolitan—it was raspberry-colored and delicious. The entire night we sipped drinks and ate appetizers. Malik started to come around, joining in on our jokes and laughs. We had ordered another bottle of champagne and were tore up and having a good time. Every ten minutes, Tae and Kenneth complimented each other, and then kissed—they were so cute. They were dancing near the bar. I was thinking,
They are so happy together and such a cute couple. So perfect.

Instead, I said it aloud, and Malik's response was “Everybody have problems. You never know what's going on behind closed doors. There is no such thing as perfect—you know that.” I looked over at him as he swished ice around in his mouth. He was being real hateful. A big, fucking hater, and I was beginning to hate him.

“Well, they're perfect to me,” I said as I watched them dance. Tae had the perfect ring, the perfect man, and she was so happy. I was so miserable. I was paying all of our bills and Kenneth paid all of their bills. I looked at the dance floor at Tae and Kenneth and then back at Malik. Till death do us part? I'm not so sure. I was so upset with Malik—so much potential going to waste. I looked over at him in disgust. I swallowed the last of my third Cosmopolitan, then walked away from Malik and hatingness and went to the bathroom.

 

 

When I came from the bathroom, I heard the bartender say, “Last call for alcohol.” It was almost time to leave. Malik ordered another bottle of champagne while I was gone. He must have money in his pocket.

“You ready?” he asked as he reached in his pocket and placed a few twenties on the table.

“Yeah, I'm ready—let me just say good-bye,” I said as I searched for Tae. “It's getting late, so we are going to leave. See y'all.” I said.

“All right—call me,” Tae said.

I reached Malik and the lights came on in the club. I was squinting my eyes and trying to walk straight enough to get out of the club. If the light hadn't awakened me, the cool April air got my attention. “Malik, pick me up,” I said drunkenly. He laughed and then he took my hand and led me to the car. Malik unlocked the car with the remote. Tae ran up behind us and scared me. Malik got inside the car and started it.

“What's up, girl?” I asked.

“Malik didn't leave enough for y'all tab.”

“Oh, he's drunk—he must have forgot. How much more do we owe?” I asked as I pulled out my debit card like it was no big thing.

“It is three-seventy-nine.”

“Huh? How much did he leave?”

“He left eighty. The bottles of champagne was two-fifty by itself, then appetizers and other drinks. Then they added on gratuity,” she said as we walked back into the club. I handed her my debit card. I was about to spend my rent money. When the waitress came back, I signed the slip and she gave me a copy.

“Sorry about that, Tae.”

“No problem,” she said as she gave me a hug. Malik was still waiting in the car. I stormed to the car.

“Malik, what the fuck is wrong with you? Why didn't you find out how much the champagne was before you ordered it? Those bottles were two-hundred-fifty. I just had to spend our rent money to pay the bill.”

“You spent the rent money?”

“Yeah, I had to. What was I supposed to do?” I asked as I shook my head. I'd already wrote our rent check out. When our landlord deposits that shit, it is going to bounce so hard it is going to break out a window. I have to figure out how to get another three hundred dollars.

“Malik, do you have any money?”

“No, that was it. I'm not working. Where am I supposed to get money from?”

“Ask your brother, ask somebody. Do something, Malik. Do fucking something.”

“Man, I told you I didn't want to go in the first place,” he said. I didn't look at him or say anything. I just wanted to get home and out of the car before I killed him.

I had successfully hustled up the rent money again. That was one less worry on my mind. I was going to go to the bank in the morning before the check cleared. My dad loaned me a hundred. I got fifty dollars from Brian—I said Brianna needed it for Girl Scouts. Then my grandmother gave me a hundred and fifty dollars. I felt bad for borrowing rent money when I just got married and was a newlywed. But nobody knew actually what was going on.

I wasn't speaking to Malik because he was slowly but surely becoming an idiot. I walked right past him. He was on the bed, watching television. I undressed and put my nightclothes on and placed the money I had collected on the dresser. I took my wig off and wrapped my hair up—it was trying to grow back.

I got in the bed and turned my back to Malik and snuggled under the covers. I heard the television go off. And then Malik asked me was I asleep. I ignored him. He got under the covers with me and pulled me in closer to him. I didn't fight it. I just listened as he spoke. He said, “Baby, I'm trying my best to get a job. I know it has been hard on you. It's been just as hard on me. I'm sorry I've been down. I'm sorry I haven't been a good husband to you. I promise I will make all of this up to you. I have an interview tomorrow.” A single tear ran down my face. Malik's reassurance made me feel confident that everything was going to be okay. He held me the entire night.

The next morning he rushed and took a shower for his interview. After he was dressed, he gave me a kiss and I rolled over and went back to sleep. I awoke around nine. I was going to sleep a little longer until I realized I had to deposit the money in the bank. I took my shower and then threw on my jeans and a t-shirt. I put on a pair of silver dangling earrings. I grabbed my cell phone and handbag. I reached for the money, but it was not there. I immediately called Malik.

“Malik, did you see some money on the dresser?”

“No, I didn't see any money.”

“I can't find the money. I put the money on the dresser last night,” I said as I lifted my jewelry box and searched around my dresser.

“Shonda, look for your money. You're always misplacing things.”

“Malik, I know where I left the money. I just hope nobody stole that money. It was for the rent.”

“Who could have possibly stole your money?” he asked.

“I don't know, but I know I'm not crazy. What am I supposed to tell the landlord? He is going to evict us.”

“No, he won't. I'm in my interview—I'll call you back.” I searched the room some more. Lifted and overturned everything around and near the dresser. I know where I left my money and I know if I didn't have it and Malik didn't have it, then Omar had my money.

Malik called back about ten minutes later and said, “I asked Omar did he see the money. He said he didn't.” I didn't believe this shit—I was trying to hold my composure. Malik was stupid.

“Malik, listen, he got my money. It was right here.”

“He said he doesn't have it. Did you see him take it?”

“No, but wake the fuck up, Malik—your brother is a thief.”

“Shonda, he is not a thief. If he said he doesn't have it, then he doesn't have it.”

“What comes out your brother's mouth is not the Bible, Malik. Who said he is always telling the truth? That's the problem—you give that niggah too much credit.” I banged on Malik and went downstairs to Omar—I knew he had my money. He was sitting, smacking on some bacon and eggs. He had a huge breakfast platter.

“Omar, I'm missing some money,” I said calmly.

“I know—Malik was telling me. If I see it, I'll put it up for you,” he said between smacks. He was really playing me. Ain't this some bullshit. I need my money. I'm not playing any games with his ass. So I stepped right in front of him and said, “I know you got my money and I want it now or your ass is out.”

“Shonda, I didn't take your money,” he said.

“I know you got it. You better give me my money before it get ugly in here.”

“Yo, I ain't my brother,” he said, standing up like he was about to swing on me.

“And what's that supposed to mean? You better give me my money.”

He dialed Malik on his cell phone and said like I was standing right in front of him, “Yo Malik—come handle your chick!”

“He don't got to handle me,” I said. “Just give me my money. How about that?”

“I don't want to.” Hurt he stopped mid-sentence, closed his phone, and left the house. I closed the Styrofoam container and threw his food in the trash.

 

 

Hours later, I was still flipping everything over in the house. I knew that money was gone, but just so there would be no doubt in my mind, I searched and I searched and found nothing. My searching was interrupted by a private number coming up on my cell phone.

I answered “Hello.” Then this ghetto voice said, “Do you have a fucking problem?”

“What—who is this?” I didn't exactly recognize the voice at first.

“You know who the fuck it is, bitch. My brother didn't steal your money. Let me just tell you if you got a problem with my brother, then you have a problem with me.”

It was Nadia—I had to put her in her place before I stomped a mud hole into her ass. I tried to reason with her and said, “Listen, Nadia, I don't think you want to call me like this. I'm not trying to argue with you. So I would appreciate it if you don't call back and don't call me no bitch.”

“What you going to do if I do?”

“I'm not going to do anything.”

“I know you ain't going to do nothing, bitch!”

Okay, now that bitch was pushing my buttons. I wanted to cuss her out. I was trying not to cuss her out—
please don't make me cuss you out,
I said to myself. I had to hold back. She called back.

“Hello,” I answered.

“Yeah, and I can call you whatever the fuck I want to, bitch. You don't running anything, bitch. I know my brother sorry he married your ass. Bitch. You don't even cook, you dirty, nasty bitch. And my brother can stay there as long as he wants because that's my brother Malik's house, too!”