Daddy's House (11 page)

“
Oh, I can assure you, nobody will come claiming me.”

“
Good. I want you all to myself,” he said.

“
You got me.” I laughed, with my arms wide open. “Nobody wants me for real anyway.”

“
Why would you say that? You damn sho sexy as hell.”

“
You know how guys are.”

“
No, I don’t,” he responded, with a more serious look.

“
Well, are you in a serious relationship?”

“
This is funny,” he laughed, obviously loosening up with me. “I’ve never had one of my girls get into my business. But I’ma go ‘head and answer that.”

“
Good,” I responded, starting to feel a bit more comfortable.

“
Bitches can never be trusted,” he said bluntly. “And I’ma let you in on a little secret, I’d kill a bitch for sure, if she cheated on me or even crossed me at all. So it’s best that I stay single.”

The way he spoke gave me the chills. I knew he meant it from the bottom of his heart. I grabbed my forearms and listened to him spill his guts about women, his distrust mostly. He obviously needed me to listen to him, just like I needed the therapy too. For the next hour, we were like two mental patients, seeking treatment from each other. Before long, Daddy got up, handed me a small stack of money from his pocket, and headed to the door.

“
Consider this something extra ‘til you get your check next week.”

“
Thank you, but you don’t have to,” I said, putting on the charm. I held the money in his direction. I knew exactly how to make a man think I didn’t want his money.

“
No, it’s yours to spend. Candy, sweet Candy,” he repeated. He shook his head with pleasure. I smiled, ready to freshen myself up, and prepare for G. Rock or whoever had next. I was shocked at Daddy’s next move.

“
Don’t worry about tonight,” he spoke, with a little hesitance in his voice. “Get some rest. I’ll straighten everything with Ms. Dottie and G. Rock. And tomorrow, I want you to go out and get yo’self some gear. Keep this between us.” Daddy nodded. “I don’t do this for everybody.” He smiled slightly and closed the door behind him.

I was on cloud nine, knowing that my work was done for the night. Strangely, I was sad to see Daddy go. His short visit was the highlight of my night, not to mention, there was something that I liked about his old ass. Maybe it was the way he smelled...so damn good.

I flipped through the stack of money, happy as hell. Turns out, the $1000.00 was the most cash I’d held in my hand in a long time. Daddy had no idea he was starting something. He knew nothing about my background, how I used to blow through money, and my plan was to keep it that way.

Chapter Nine

The next morning it seemed like everyone was up early, sticking to their daily routines, and getting themselves fixed up. After Sushi showed me how to set up a MySpace page, I made my short phone call to Tracey. She cursed me out in both English and Pig Latin for calling her so early in the morning. I tried to explain about my morning phone hours, but Tracey wasn’t trying to hear it. I told her we’d meet at noon, at Amy Ruth’s on 116
^th
Street. That would give me plenty of time to cop some new gear with a portion of the money Daddy had given me; the rest would be saved for my get-away plan. I knew just the place in lower Manhattan to get the gear that would make Daddy wanna lace me with extra cash every weekend.

I let out a huge sigh when I walked back to my room and saw my door wide open. I was sick of Ms. Dottie, and I’d only been in the house for three days. When I walked inside, I felt someone breathing behind me like a damn dragon. I turned and was hit with an open hand. Slap!
What the fuck,
I thought.

Cat rushed me like she was getting paid by the NFL. She grabbed my neck and placed me in position to be her punching bag. “You thought you was gonna play me. Huh, bitch?”

I stood stiff, trying to figure out how to handle the situation. Meanwhile, her hands went wild as she fought me like a female cat. No punches, no skills, just wild open hand throws.
Now I know how her ass got the name
. I tried not to get too rough with Cat, not wanting to get thrown out, but she was asking for it.

I swung back a few times, but just enough to show her I wasn’t a punk. I threw up my hands like a real fighter, ready to go toe to toe Brooklyn style, but she still wanted to do the junior high fighting thing. Although I bobbed and weaved, her long red nails scratched me on my face a few times. Eventually, my arms flew in the air, trying to shield myself from the licks. I decided to fight dirty too. I reached behind and grabbed her by her bad weave. She squirmed, trying to release herself from my grip. I let loose abruptly, and backed up, but she kept swinging into mid-air. When she realized I had maneuvered my body away from her range, she got even madder.

“
Word is out, you a cut throat!” she spat.

Sushi heard the commotion and came running like Forest Gump “Oh…God. No…no…stop!” she yelled.

Sushi’s screams got louder, causing more girls to come into the hallway. “Ms. Dot’s comin’,” I heard one of the girls say. Cat stopped abruptly, and took a few hits from me just to set me up. I was too stupid to realize what was going on.

When Ms. Dottie showed up in front of the doorway, I was on my last punch. Caught dead in the act, it looked like I was the one who initiated the fight. Cat held her hands in the air, and played the dumb role. The bitch was surrendering, but only after she’d scratched the hell out of my face. We both had blood on our hands, but she definitely got the best of me. I did, however, have a plug of her weave in my palm to show that I’d put in work.

“
What’s this all about?” Ms. Dottie asked walking into my room.

“
Hell if I know!” Cat responded.

“
Umm huh,” Ms. Dottie mumbled. “Then why are you in Candy’s room?”

I cringed at the sound of my new name. Cat shrugged her shoulders. Then grinned at me like she’d won the battle.

“
Both of you, downstairs,” Ms. Dottie ordered. “This is the only free time you got! I suggest you use it wisely,” she snapped, walking toward us, backing us both in the direction of the staircase.

I continued to walk backward, watching Cat’s every move from the corner of my eye. Even though Ms. Dottie was front and center, I still didn’t trust Cat. She was the anything goes type of broad, so I had to be ready.

When I hit the bottom step, Sushi was standing there with tears in her eyes, like she was the one who got beat down. “Oh, me Candy, look at your pretty face,” she said.

I moved away slowly. She might’ve been out to get me too.

“
Oh, I’m fine. Real fine,” I repeated, making sure Cat could hear the confidence in my voice.

“
You have scratch on you face.”

Sushi was cool, but the moment she touched my face, I moved her hand. Ms. Dottie, in return, hit me with a nasty look.

“
I’m straight, Sushi. Don’t worry about me. On the real, I’m from the hood. I just try not to act like it. I’ve been through worse.”

“
Hood?” Sushi asked, with a confused expression.

I let out a slight laugh. “Never mind, Sushi. I gotta go. We’ll talk later.”

“
Oh, me too,” she said, grabbing my hand again. She was way too touchy feely for me, but I knew it was a part of her culture. I just wish somebody would teach her that black folks needed space.

“
Sushi, I’ll be back.”

“
No…please…please…I go. We have girl fun,” she said, grabbing my arm. She grinned so hard, I didn’t have the heart to hurt her feelings.

“
Umm…here you go,” Ms. Dottie said, interrupting us.

As soon as I looked at the pink slip of paper, I knew exactly what it was. However, my eyes almost popped out of my head when I looked at the $350.00 fine.

“
Ms. Dottie, it wasn’t even my fault. Cat started it,” I pleaded.

She looked at me like I was crazy. “I don’t care who started it. We don’t tolerate that ghetto shit up in Daddy’s House, so like I said earlier, I suggest you find something else to do with your time when you’re not on your back. Moving right along,” she said, before checking something off on her clipboard then walked away.

“
I’m never gonna make any money in this house,” I said, before balling up the pink slip of paper and throwing it across the room.

“
Oh, don’t worry, you make lots,” Sushi replied, with a huge smile.

I didn’t know how I was gonna explain to Tracey that I’d brought an Asian chick along for our lunch date, and a poorly dressed one at that. I started to tell Sushi that she had to change out of that skin-tight leopard leotard before we left, but I laid low. I had already had enough controversy for one day.

***

Within an hour, me and Sushi had caught one cab, and several trains to all my old shopping spots. I hadn’t shopped in the city in years, but managed to find all the fly shit with the little bit of money I had. My expensive taste in clothes had been somewhat tamed over the last year, but it was still there, just buried deep inside. I wanted badly to rock Chanel, Prada, and my favorite, Christian Dior. Instead, I got the next best thing. I got two pair of jeans from a boutique in Soho, which looked like they cost a mint. I also picked up a few jazzy shirts that had an expensive appearance.

I was starting to feel like the old Candice again. I walked from store front to store front window shopping like I was living a normal life again. Every now and then, a loud noise would spark my attention, and a Crown Vic passing by would scare the shit outta me and take me back to reality. A reality that told me that I could never get too comfortable. I was already on edge hoping that whoever was after me back in Jersey would never find me in Long Island. My new residence seemed to be pretty safe. The minute we passed a Sunglass Hut, I smiled. I had to go in. The pair of Christian Dior shades in the window had my name all over them. Me and Sushi went inside, and ten minutes later, I came out rockin’ a pair of $320.00 shades.

After looking in a few more stores, it was close to noon, so we headed to the restaurant to meet Tracey. When we got there, the lengthy line had me heated. Seconds later, Tracey pulled up with Luke, and hopped out of the car like a celebrity walking the red carpet. Luke just shot me a fake wave, like he wasn’t interested in my well being anymore, and scurried off on two wheels.

Tracey switched to the front door, whispered something in the guy’s ear, who was obviously in charge of the waiting list for the restaurant, and within two short minutes, we were next to be seated. She nodded to me in the line proudly, until she realized Sushi was with me.

“
Who the fuck is this?” Tracey asked.

“
Oh, this is Sushi. She lives with me at the house. She’s mad cool.” I smiled.

“
Bitch, we link up, and you bring some hooker wit’ you? With a fuckin’ nose ring. You don’ lost yo’ damn mind.”

Sushi never said a word, but her expression said it all. She wasn’t about to get buck with Tracey, who was looking crazy with a fake leopard print fur shawl thrown across her shoulder, and black thigh high patent leather boots to match.

“
We got some juicy shit to talk ‘bout. I’on think we need no damn outsider’s company,” Tracey replied. “Especially no fried rice eatin’ muthafuckas.”

“
On the real, it’s okay,” I pleaded, with my eyes. Sushi was my only ally at the house, besides Cinnamon, who I didn’t really know too well, so I wanted to stay on good terms with her.

“
C’mon damn it,” Tracey finally said, blowing breath through her lips, and opening the door.

“
I told you it would be okay,” I whispered to Sushi.

We followed the male host to our table located way in the back of the restaurant, which was perfect, since Tracey had something juicy to tell me. I prayed it was about my mother’s whereabouts. We sat down, grabbed our menus, and made small talk, while trying to decide what to eat.

“
Candy, they no have noodles,” Sushi blurted out.

“
Who the fuck is Candy?” Tracey snapped.

“
She Candy.” Sushi pointed to me with a big smile.

“
Maybe this was all a bad idea.” Tracey rolled her eyes. “I’ma have to talk to Luke about this shit. All these fuckin’ weirdos and shit.” She looked Sushi straight in the eye, but Sushi wouldn’t look back, she just sang some unknown Asian song.

Tracey just stared into Sushi’s face, ranting and yelling obscenities in between her singing. After cursing for the fiftieth time, Tracey smacked, “You better shut the fuck up if you gonna stay at this table!”

Before long the waiter came over, ready to take our order. Tracey was so caught up into telling me that she really needed to talk to me alone, that I couldn’t even order my food. I knew something serious had to be wrong.

“
Tell me now,” I pressed. “What is it? Is it Velma?”

“
Give me a #8,” Tracey said to the waiter.

“
And you Miss?” he asked me.

I couldn’t speak. “Tell me, Tracey.” I panicked.

Tracey continued to ignore me and decided to order for me. “Chicken and Waffles for her, and Chow Mein for her.” She pointed at Sushi, and laughed loud enough to have everyone looking at our table.