Frenemies (13 page)

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Authors: L. Divine

BOOK: Frenemies
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“Would you feel the same way if your ex-best friend ratted you out?” she says. And she's right, I have wanted to kill Misty several times in the couple of years I've known her. But I still wouldn't do it like this, especially not in the same mall that just accused us of shoplifting. Speaking of which, here comes security now. Damn, just what we need, more mall employees in our business.
“What's going on here?” the guards say, breaking up the crowd that's encircled us. “Is everyone okay?” Nellie's regained her composure but still looks terrified and betrayed. Laura and Tania didn't even help her get up off the ground. What kind of friends does she think they are to her?
“No,” Tania says, jumping in the middle of the circle, ready to tell all. “That girl attacked my friend.” She points at Mickey, who already can't see straight through her rage. All she needs is another target.
“That's a lie,” I say, forced to defend my friend as everyone else remains quiet, waiting to see what will happen next. Tania's charges are serious and could do more than get Mickey suspended or expelled. She could end up in jail over this bull, and that's not happening today. “This girl fell and slipped, and my friend tried to help her up, but it just got twisted around. Isn't that right, Nellie?” I say, looking from Nellie to Mickey, waiting for her reply. If she knows what's good for her, Nellie will go with my story and deflate this situation before it gets even more out of control.
“You're lying,” Laura says, adding her two cents of loyalty to the queen of her hive. I hope they both get what they have coming to them. If Tania weren't pregnant, I'd jump her ass right now myself.
“Well, miss, it's your call,” the brawly guard says to a shell-shocked Nellie. She can't speak and knows better than to say a word against Mickey to her face. I know Nellie hasn't forgotten where we all live. She can play that White-girl role at school. But when we get back to Compton, her fake-ass homies will be nowhere around, not that they're much good to her anyway.
“Nellie, say something,” Tania says, egging her on. Even Misty's on the tip of her toes from the tension in the room.
“Well, if you're not going to say anything, there's nothing much I can do but get this mess cleaned up,” he says, leaving the scene and summoning the cleaning crew to remove the evidence. Just as I predicted, Nellie hasn't completely lost her mind. But this is far from over. I know Mickey's going to have a field day planning her revenge on Nellie. How stupid could Nellie be to think that she could replace loyal friends after the fitting of her crown? Doesn't she know it takes time to find homies like me and Mickey, especially with her finicky ass? But like I said before, if she crossed Mickey, there would be nothing much I could do to protect her. So I hope she knows what she's doing because Mickey's out for blood and Nellie's is all that'll do.
Mama's busy with a witch hunt of her own sorts, so I know she won't have too much time to chat, and she had a hair appointment today. But I need to get some advice about this one. I don't want either of my friends to get hurt, but this has got to be put to rest, and fast.
 
When Mickey drops me off, Mama's screaming can be heard all the way down the block. Luckily Mickey was too absorbed in her own fire to hear the one going on inside my house. I hate when Mama gets like this. And usually Tuesdays are her chill days, after Netta's finished working her magic on Mama's head. But from the sound of it, Mama's head is anything but cool.
 
“Goddamnit, I've told you lazy–ass fools to stay the hell off my white couch,” she says. Oh, Lord I hope no one took the plastic off her couch. My uncles do that sometimes, looking for change. Usually they put it back without her noticing too much. But something must've happened to piss her off like this.
“Lynn Mae, shut the hell up about that damned couch,” Daddy says from outside. He's the only one who would dare talk back to Mama. “It's one stain, and I'm sure you can get it out.” Now, why did Daddy have to go and say that? I think I'll just stay on the porch until this blows over. It's too much energy for me to take right now, especially after keeping Nellie and Mickey from an all-out brawl. I've done enough refereeing for one afternoon.
“Are you going to clean it up? Huh, Lee?” Mama yells out the back door. Now he's done it. When she gets to yelling outside, there's no calming her down. My mom thinks it has something to do with menopause. But to hear Daddy tell it, Mama's always been a hothead. I guess that's where I get it from, although my fire's a little spark compared to hers.
“Hell, no, I'm not cleaning it up,” Daddy says, almost laughing. If he and Mama didn't argue, they'd barely communicate. I think he gets a kick out of pushing her buttons.
“Well, then, I guess you don't have shit to say about it then, do you?” Mama says, slamming the kitchen door. “And who left the beans on the stove uncovered? Do you like eating flies in your food?” she says, taking the top off the table and placing it on the large pot. It's then she notices a cake on her kitchen table, and Mama hasn't baked all week. I can see her look of recognition from my spot outside and decide it's time for me to intervene. I know that face: it must be from one of Daddy's church groupies.
“What the hell is this pound cake doing in here?” Mama says, picking up the heavy sweet and reopening the back door, tossing it outside to Daddy.
“Lynn Mae, what the hell!” Daddy screams, no longer amused by Mama's tantrum as he bends down to pick the pieces off the ground. Lemon pound cake is his favorite dessert.
“I told you not to bring any food in here from those church hussies!” Mama yells, slamming the door behind her. “This is my kitchen and my house. Don't be bringing no other heffa's nothing up in here, you hear me, Reverend James!” And with that final lethal slur, Mama goes to her room, shutting the door for the evening, I'm sure. She'll be in there all night praying and chanting for help with her temper, as she always does after she's vented like this.
I guess I'll have to wait until tomorrow to talk to her about my drama. Tonight I'll concentrate on cooling down all the hot energy around me by studying my lessons. Mama's going to give Netta a head cleansing tomorrow, and I need to be prepared to assist. Maybe she'll even let us do one on her. If anyone needs to cool off other than Mickey, it's Mama. And I need her to have a clear head to help me out of this madness. There's no replacing Mama's wisdom when it gets this bad.
13
Irreplaceable
“So don't you ever for a second get to thinking/
You're irreplaceable.”
—BEYONCÉ
E
ven after working in the spirit room all night chopping spinach and preparing the other ingredients that I could, I still didn't come up with any solutions to my problems. Some things only Mama can fix. So how am I going to ask Jeremy for the receipt for my return? The last thing we need is another issue in our new relationship. We already have enough to deal with as it is.
“Hey, lady,” Jeremy says, reaching across the passenger's seat to open my door. “Jump in. I've got to head back home and grab my AP portfolio for the meeting after school.” I take a seat and shut the door.
“Well, thank goodness you live up the street,” I say. If I left my school work at home I'd simply be assed out for real. By the time I'd reach home and back, school would be over.
“Yeah, it has its perks,” he says, smirking at me as we ride up the hill along with everyone else. It must be nice living in these huge houses with their fancy lawns, even if there's still family chaos to deal with. Well, I guess there's no time like the present to get back to the matter at hand.
“So, Jeremy,” I say, not sure which issue to bring up first. I want to know exactly what's up with his dad before approaching the matter of the purse. Depending on how far we get and what he says, I'll know how to tell him I'm returning his gift. “Can we finish talking about your daddy and Black girls?” I say, making light of the heavy topic. I can tell by the way he's tightening his jaw that he was hoping to avoid the topic indefinitely. But it's too important to me to just let it go.
“Jayd, what difference does it make? You're with me, not him. I love you for who you are, not what you are, and I wish you could just be happy with that,” he says. Jeremy does sound sincere, but the pain in his voice is too deep for me to ignore.
“Jeremy, that's all well and fine,” I say, stroking his leg while he pulls up to the front of the school to drop me off. “But it makes a huge difference to me. This is the problem I have with Mrs. Bennett, Mrs. Peterson and other ignorant people who hate on me and my sistahs because of our strength.” Jeremy rolls his eyes as though he's heard my speech before. But I continue anyway because it obviously hasn't sunk in yet.
“I'm serious. This isn't funny to me, and I want to know exactly what I'm dealing with the next time I see your father.” Finally taking me seriously, Jeremy looks at me and spills the truth.
“My dad doesn't like Black women because he says they're too loud, bossy and rude.” I'm a little taken aback by his confession but satisfied nonetheless.
“Then how did all his sons end up with Black women?” I ask. According to Ms. Toni, the Weiner boys are notorious for dealing with girls that aren't White.
“I don't know, really. I guess it's just one of those things. But for the record, me and my brothers like women, not just Black women,” he says, his signature smile gleaming in the morning sun. And I like men; however, I do prefer the brothas overall. But Jeremy doesn't need to know all that.
“Okay, so what does this have to do with Tania? She's not Black, she's Persian.” Jeremy's smile disappears as students start to walk up the path toward school. What is he hiding from me? “Jeremy, what is it? You can tell me anything, I promise,” I say, holding his hand with my left hand and turning his face toward me with my other.
“Look, Jayd, I keep telling you some things are better left alone,” Jeremy says. “You know Tania's pregnant, you know she's engaged to someone else and you know I'm not going to have anything to do with the baby. Isn't that enough? I have to go so I can get back before the bell rings,” he says, kissing me gently on the mouth, making me almost forget about the receipt. I'll get it later. Right now, I want to stay in the bliss of ignorance as I long as I can. Whatever he doesn't want to tell me is big. And I don't know when we'll have the opportunity to kiss like this again.
 
When I make it into the partially empty main hall, I see Ms. Toni and Mrs. Bennett exchanging words by the ASB room up ahead of my locker. I wonder what that's all about. Out of all the staff at South Bay, these are the main arch enemies and each equally lethal in their own way. I better go over there before Ms. Toni has Mrs. Bennett's bleached-blond head for breakfast.
“Hey, Ms. Toni,” I say, stepping up to her side as Mrs. Bennett's frown turns to a sinister smile. This is one twisted broad; I still don't understand how Jeremy and his crew love her so much. One of the main reasons I can't wait to graduate is just so I can get away from her.
“Hey, Jayd,” Ms. Toni says through a forced smile. “It's nice to see your bright face.”
“Jayd,” Mrs. Bennett says. I love that she doesn't even pretend to like me. It makes it that much easier for me to hate her. “I think I'll leave the two of you alone now.” Mrs. Bennett walks toward the front door. “And, Ms. Toni, remember what I said. Good teachers are irreplaceable.” I wonder where she parks her broomstick before landing her wicked ass on campus.
“What was that all about?” I ask before we start walking back toward my locker. The bell's about to ring, and I know Ms. Toni has to get to her class, too.
“Oh, you know there's always something political going on at this school. That woman makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up,” Ms. Toni says. It must be something big to make her this upset. She's always telling me to be cool, even when dealing with this school's administration. Now it looks like she's the one who needs to chill.
“Whatever it is, I'm sure you'll find a way around it,” I say, opening my locker as Ms. Toni looks off into the distance, staring at nothing in particular.
“Everything isn't that simple. Do you know how hard it is to find good teachers?” Ms. Toni says. “And then to keep those same good teachers from working at good schools like this one—because teachers that need to retire won't—just makes my blood boil.” What the hell is she talking about?
“Ms. Toni, what's going on? Who's retiring?” I say, slamming my locker shut. I know I'm going to be late if I don't get going, but it sounds like Ms. Toni needs to talk.
“Oh, Jayd, I wish I could say something, but I can't,” she says, looking just as defeated as she did when we went up against Mrs. Bennett together. It makes me feel sad that I can't be of more help to her. “Just pray for a little consciousness at this school.” She walks off toward her office and leaves me to ponder her last statement. Maybe there's something I can do to help her situation after all. Besides, all good things start with a little positive thought, and that I can get to work on right now.
After yesterday's mall drama, I was grateful for the long day and distracting AP meetings. Nellie was absent, and Mickey and Nigel were in the office all day, explaining their absences, I assume. With Jeremy in his meeting after school, I had a lot of time on the bus to think about everything that's been going on lately. Is it that easy to replace the people in our lives?
Mama tossing Daddy's cake yesterday really hit home with me. She wasn't upset just because Daddy's eating someone else's cake; it hurt her to think that Daddy had replaced her with another woman. I know how she feels. It also hurts that Nellie replaced me and Mickey without as much as a bat of her mascara-coated eyelashes. It also hurts to think that Jeremy could think that buying me an expensive bag would ever replace me knowing the truth. Right now, I'm not feeling too hot about myself, and I really need Mama's guidance. I hope she's chilled out from yesterday's festivities before she gives Netta a
rogación de cabeza.
If not, all her negative energy could end up in Netta's head, and that wouldn't be good for Netta or Netta's clients.
When I get home, Daddy's outside polishing his baby-blue Cadillac El Dorado. I think he loves this car more than he loves Mama or their eleven children. My uncles are in the house watching television and fixing their dinner, as usual. When Mama does cleansings for her clients, she spends the whole day in the spirit room prepping for the ritual. I'm sure she already has my clean whites in the back with her, waiting for me to come help. I've already missed the major labor—cleaning the room, gathering the remaining herbs and plants, preparing the water. But I did help with some of the preparations last night while studying.
 
“Hey, there, tweet,” Daddy says, looking up from his fun labor to give me a smile and quick peck. “Your mama's in her room with Netta,” he says, pointing toward the backhouse behind the garage. If there was a full bathroom, I'm sure Mama would live out there all the time.
“Hey Daddy. You gone let me drive her when I get my license next month?” I say, caressing the spotless ride. I still haven't told my mom or Mama about my dad paying for my lessons. It keeps slipping my mind, but I'll get around to it soon enough.
“Girl, you know I don't let anybody drive my car,” he says. I remember my uncle Junior took the car one night thinking Daddy would never find out. And he wouldn't have found out, but Jay couldn't wait to tell on Junior the next morning. Daddy kicked his ass all the way down the block and back over that one, permanently checking anyone who'd ever think of driving one of Daddy's cars again.
“I know, Daddy. I'm just teasing you,” I say, kissing him on the cheek. How can he be sweet to me but so awful to Mama? “Daddy, can I ask you something?” Maybe he'll be truthful with me about his relationships with other women since I'm on the sidelines of their adult games, no matter how similar the playing field.
“Sure, tweet, what's on your mind?” I love it when he calls me my nickname. It's just between me and him; no one else has ever called me tweet, and he's never called me by any other name.
“Why do you want other women when you have Mama at home?” Stopping in his tracks, Daddy takes a deep breath and looks at me very sternly. Oh, shit, I knew I went too far when the words came out, but I had to ask. He looks back at the car and continues polishing before saying another word.
“This here is a nineteen seventy-five convertible Cadillac El Dorado. No matter how many new cars they come out with, there is no replacement for this vehicle. They don't make them like this anymore,” he says, polishing the same spot for what must be the fiftieth time. Why is he talking about this damned car when I just asked him why he cheats on my grandmother? Before I can walk away, he continues his sermon, gluing me to my spot.
“Lynn Mae is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen,” he says, entranced by his own movements. “When I first saw those fiery green eyes and that long black hair, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. I vowed right then and there, if she'd be my wife, I'd never lay eyes on another woman again—ever.”
“Well, what happened?” I say. I know Mama's looking at the wall clock and wondering where I am. It's already past five now, and I know there's still a lot of work to do for Netta. But I need to know what happens to make people feel like they can replace their loved ones or even friends, because a sistah's hella confused right now, and I need some answers.
“Time happened,” he says wearily. “Shit happens, people talk, more shit happens and then, well, you disconnect and it all falls apart after that.” Damn, that actually makes sense to me. In all my friendships, even with Misty, that's pretty much the same recipe for destruction I've experienced.
“But why stay together?” I say. “Especially for as long as you and Mama have been together?” I can't even stay with KJ or Jeremy for a couple of months, and they've been together for over thirty-five years.
“Tweet, no matter how many times you go out hunting, you always come back home. I could never leave your grandmother, not even if I wanted to. There's nobody else in the world I trust like that hotheaded woman back there. And Lynn Mae won't admit it, but she feels the same way. We love each other, no matter how it may appear to the outside world. And like the Bible says, love is patient, and I'm willing to wait for things to turn around, even it does take a lifetime.”

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