Ex-girl to the Next Girl (4 page)

I
pulled in front of Aunt Connie's row home. There was a green weathered awning hanging over the porch. The porch had white lawn furniture on it, and she had bouquets of fake flowers in her windows. I rang the bell, and Rodney, my Aunt Connie's stepson, answered the door.

I walked into my Aunt Connie's home. It smelled like spring laundry dryer sheets. She had a thing for leopard and cats. Leopard carpet and a tawny brown throw blanket with a leopard swung over it. She had her dining room table set with glasses, napkins, silverware, and a floral arrangement. Nobody ever sat at that table, not even during the holidays; it was just a decoration. I stepped in the kitchen and smelled breakfast—eggs, grits, toast, and sausage.

“It smells good. Did you make all of this?” I asked Rodney.

“No, I think she made it for you.” Rodney said with his mouth full.

“Where is she?” I asked, getting a plate.

“Upstairs, getting dressed.”

“Auntie, can I have some breakfast?” I yelled up the steps.

“Yeah, go ahead. I made extra for you,” she yelled. I took a seat at the table and looked over at Rodney, my step-cousin. I wanted him to be a stranger since I was eleven so I could date him.

“What's going on, Ms. Nadine?” he asked as he munched on toast.

“Nothing. What's up with you?” I asked as I reached in the refrigerator for orange juice. The yellow refrigerator had magnets from every vacation she had ever gone on.

“Nothing much—down here trying to close a deal,” he replied.

“Look at you making money,” I said as I poured the juice in my glass.

“No, my mom is moving to Georgia, so I sold the house for her. I'm just in town to the end of the day. I'm trying to catch up with my dad while I'm here. I was trying to see him before I leave. What's up with you?”

“Nothing—can't wait until June gets here,” I said.

“June will be here before you know it. Y'all always off. How do the kids learn if you guys are always out?”

“We find a way.” I stared at Rodney—he was five-eleven, and cute. Rodney was always cute and fly. When we were in high school, he already had a car and girlfriends who were older. He was just that decent boy who everybody wanted to talk to. He had every pair of new sneakers, a clean ride, and a job. He worked in the sneaker store on Germantown Avenue and hung out with other older guys. Girls would come up to me and ask me was he my cousin. They wanted to be my friend to get closer to him. I used to lust after him, but in a different way. I wanted him to take me to my prom. I wanted us to get a convertible, and have everybody there to see us off. Now that we were older, I still wanted him. I loved him then and now. He looks even better now that he is into real estate and making money, looking good. I wish he wasn't my step-cousin.

My Aunt Connie walked down the steps. Aunt Connie was a beautiful woman, and she made sure you knew it. She had clear, soft, oatmeal-brown skin—not one trace of a wrinkle or bag under her eyes at forty-nine. Her favorite pastime was pointing out other women in her age bracket and saying,
That's a damn shame—can you believe that such-and-such is the same age as me, looking like that?
Even if someone looked comparable to her, she would find a flaw. Her other pleasure was requesting the manager in any and every store. Meat undercooked? Manager. Slow service? Manager. Waitress or teller got an attitude? Manager. She put ice in her glass from the automatic ice dispenser on the refrigerator and poured orange juice into her glass.

“Rodney, your daddy at work,” she said as she sipped her orange juice.

“I know, I was just stopping by,” he said as he stood up and cleared his plate into the trash.

“Your mom moving, I heard. That's nice,” she said, somewhat sarcastically.

“Yeah, she said she can't take the city life and weather anymore.”

“Too bad—everybody coming back to the city now.”

“Well, my mom's going to Savannah to take care of my aunt.”

“Okay, well, you staying? Because we're about to go out. I love you,” she said as she hugged him.

“No, I'm going to get out of here.” He gave Aunt Connie a kiss and said that he would stop by again before he left.

 

 

After Rodney left, Aunt Connie said she was happy Uncle Chuck wasn't home yet.

“Why?” I asked as I stood up and put my coat on.

“I don't want that man to know I have any money. He wants us to put our money together and get the basement finished. I told you I have my income-tax check. I did a rapid refund. This guy down on Walnut Street, he got me back forty-five hundred. You should let him do your taxes. He is so good. I usually don't get but five-hundred dollars, but that man found all these deductions I could get.”

“That's good.”

“I know, isn't it?” she said excitedly as she put her earrings in her ears. She continued on. “At first I saw his butt. He looked dirty, so I said to myself,
this man can't do taxes—he barely looks like he washes.
But it was so crowded, and I wanted to get it done and over with. So I took a chance with him and it worked.”

“That is so good.”

“I know, and this money is right on time. I'm going to pick up a few gifts for Monet's birthday. It's a shame Toya didn't give her a party. I should give her one, shouldn't I?”

“Well, you know Toya knows if she doesn't do it, y'all will.”

“I know. That's what's wrong with my child. Let me get my other bag. I'll be right back.”

I sat back down and waited for her. My little thirteen-year-old cousin, Ariel, came down the steps in her pajamas, braces, and big rollers in her hair. She picked off what was left of the eggs.

“Where y'all going?” she asked.

“We are going shopping. Where are you going?” I asked.

“Me and my friend are going to the movies, then we are going to the arcade.” I guess she remembered she needed money and screamed, “Mommy, can I have some money?”

“Ariel, I just gave you thirty dollars yesterday.”

“Mom, I got my nails done with that money. See?” she asked as she showed off her decorated, long nails.

“Ariel, here,” she said as she placed a hundred dollars in her hand. “Don't ask me for any more money.” Aunt Connie had Ariel when we were about thirteen, and all she ever did is complain about her. I guess she was an unexpected blessing. Poor Ariel, every time she asked to go somewhere or do something Aunt Connie said,
I ain't got time for this shit
or
I'm too old
or
I did this shit already
. Ice-skating shows, the zoo, school plays, and double Dutch. She was burned out from doing everything with Toya. By the time Ariel got here, she was sick of everything. She was upset because her daughters were twelve years apart, so Ariel always got stuck with the short end of the stick. I try to take her out and I am more of a big sister to her than Toya because she has children of her own now. Their house phone rang. “Get that, please,” Ariel said with her mouth full of food.

I picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, cousin, what's up?” Toya sang. “What are you doing there?”

“Me and your mom about to go shopping.” My Aunt Connie came down the steps, waving her hands in front of her, whispering, “No, don't tell her.” It was too late. I had already said something.

“Ooh, ask my mom can y'all come and get me,” Toya said.

“Okay, hold on—I'll ask her.” I gave my aunt the telephone. She took the telephone and handed it right back to me. I took the phone back and said, “Toya, she said she don't have time to come and get you.”

“All right, then. My mom be tripping—she can come and get me. It's cool, though. Bye.” I placed the cordless phone on the charger.

Without any guilt, my aunt said, “Come on. You ready?” while she put her coat on and we walked out of the door. “Make sure you call when you get to the movies and when y'all make it back to Angelique's house,” she told Ariel.

“Yes, Mom. See you, Nadine.”

“Bye. Have fun,” I said as we walked out the front door.

Aunt Connie checked the door to make sure it was locked. “We taking your car or mine? We can take mine. That way, I can leave all my bags in the car.”

We got in her 1999 Buick LeSabre. She took her coat off and adjusted her chair and said, “Nadine, remind me to buy some minutes for my phone,” she said as she plugged her phone in the charger.

“You need to get a plan and stop wasting your money. I don't know why you got that stupid prepaid phone.”

“I like my phone. I don't have to worry about having a thousand-dollar cell phone bill or getting cut off. I buy the minutes when I need them. My friend at work got Sprint and her phone gets cut off every other day,” Aunt Connie said as she put on her seat belt and lifted the sun visor.

“But that doesn't make sense—you have to keep running to the store, getting cards.”

“It makes sense to me,” my aunt said as she handed me two hundred dollars.

“Thank you,” I said.

“You're welcome.”

“Buy yourself something nice, and buy that boyfriend of yours something.”

“I thought I told you—I broke up with Erick.”

“No, not Erick. I liked him—he was so nice.”

“I just didn't know if he was the right one for me.” I sighed.

“Girl, that man has a good job and no kids. You shouldn't have never let him go. Some woman going to find him, dust him off, and marry him before the summer.”

“I don't care—she can have him.” Changing the subject, I said, “Why didn't you want Toya to come with us?”

“Because she is going to spend all my money. Why, was she upset? She wanted to go. I guess I should go get her, huh? It is her daughter's birthday.” She questioned me and answered her own question in the same breath. She picked up her cell phone and dialed Toya's number back.

“Toya, I'll come and get you. You better be ready, 'cause I'm not waiting for you. Who is going to watch the kids? Okay, I'll be there.”

“Who's watching the kids?” I asked as we rode down the street..

“Nate.”

“Really?” I said as I laughed.

“You know it is not funny. One day, Tony, the next day, Nate,” she said as she took a deep breath. “She has to get herself together.”

My cousin was a pimp. She has dealt with the same two guys for the last three years. The guys have fought and threatened each other, and she refuses to leave either one alone. She has a baby by both of them. It is hard when one of your male relatives stops dating a woman and she gets all attached to the family, but imagine two men fighting over who can come to the family reunion or cookout. Both trying to play the position of Toya's man. It is so funny.

She met Tony at her first and last semester of college, and Nate is the childhood sweetheart. When she met Tony, the family almost gave her a party. Like,
Yes! No more bummy Nate
, but somehow Nate wiggled his way back in the picture, and now Toya got Monet by Nate and Destiny by Tony. Destiny is one and a half and Monet is four. Everybody likes Tony because he has a job and takes better care of his daughter. He is from Jamaica. Nate plays with the kids and cooks for them, but never keeps a job. He hardly does anything financially, but he is always available to watch them.

I'm pretty close to Toya. I don't have any girlfriends, just an aunt and a crazy cousin. Me and females don't get along. You probably heard it before, but most girls who say they don't like girls are girls who like being around men because they are gay or out there. I'm neither, but even in high school I was always fighting them. My last year of high school it got ugly. Mean girls to a whole other level.

 

 

We pulled up to Toya's apartment. We got out of the car and rang her bell, but she didn't answer. She lived in the lower-level apartment, so I knocked on her window. Her cream blinds were broken and bent on the edges. I could see Monet sitting on the sofa in her Dora the Explorer underwear with her hair sticking up. Little Destiny was lying on the carpet with a bottle in her arm. When they heard the knock, they jumped up and ran and got Toya. She came to the window and peeked through the mini-blinds. “One minute,” she said, like we didn't just call her and tell her we were on our way.

Toya came to the door in tight red boy shorts and an oversize white t-shirt. She was incredibly thin. Toya is one of those people who could eat a whole extra-cheese pizza and never gain a pound. She was tall—five-eight—with brown skin and long, natural, thick black hair that reached her shoulders.

“Toya, I told you to be ready,” Aunt Connie yelled.

“Mom, I'm getting dressed!”

“It smells like cat in here,” Aunt Connie said, sniffing around with her nose turned up.

“Oh, I know. I have to clean the litter box,” she said as she went into the bathroom and dumped the litter box. She sprayed orange-blossom air freshener into the air. It covered the smell a little.

“Does it smell better?” she asked.

“Yes, now get dressed.”

We sat down among the empty Bacardi Apple Twister bottles, a pizza box, and condom wrappers.
Well, at least she is protecting herself
, I thought. I tried to save my cousin some face and kicked the wrapper under the sofa.

“Nadine, I already saw it. I don't know who this girl is. She is not my daughter,” my aunt said as she turned her head away from me in disgust. “Why couldn't you be my daughter, Nadine? You're more like me. You got a drive. Maybe Ariel will be a go-getter like us, 'cause that damn Toya don't want to do shit. Look at this place.” My aunt loves bragging about me; she tells all her friends she raised me. When anyone asks about Toya, she will say,
Toya's okay, but do you know my stepson is a mortgage broker and my niece—you know, the one I raised—is a teacher.