Hell House (7 page)

Jada sighed and pursed her lips. She shook even more salt into the boiling water. “If I'm gon' be laid up in a casket over salt, you will be, too. You don't have to eat my food, Jaylin, and you're welcome to have an apple, orange or a Little Debbie snack cake for dinner.”

Jaylin got up from the stool and went to the fridge to get an apple. He bit into it and then he smacked Jada hard on her ass. She jumped back and playfully poked him with her fork. “Don't play,” she said with a grin on her face. “Touch my butt again and I'mma have to cut you.”

“Sure,” Jaylin said, coming back into the living room and sitting down. “Cut me good, baby, but please cut the salt before you do anything.”

Jada threw her hand back at him and continued to work on dinner. The aroma in the kitchen was lit up like an Italian restaurant. She chose to make spaghetti. I was hungry, especially after
smoking weed. I had to find something to grub on, and when I got up, I walked by Jaylin.

“Ay,” I said, getting his attention. I nodded my head toward Jada. “I think she likes you. My suggestion is to sleep with one eye open.”

“Nah, she's down with you. It's in her eyes. Pay attention.”

I went into the kitchen and grabbed a bag of Doritos from the pantry. When I closed the door, Jada stood in front of me with a spoonful of sauce in her hand.

“Roc, try this. Let me know if the sauce is too sweet.”

“Salty!” Jaylin yelled from afar. “Too damn salty, not sweet.”

Jada lifted her middle finger. “Stick it, Jaylin. Far, far up there, okay?”

He laughed.

I tasted the sauce and it was pretty damn good. “It's just right. Can't wait to taste all of it. How much longer before some grub is ready?”

“About ten…fifteen more minutes. I'm glad you liked it.”

Something in her eyes said I could have her, and keeping it real, Jada was my kind of woman. So far, I liked her style and she seemed like she could be…fun.

I chilled at the kitchen table eating Doritos. Shortly thereafter, Prince swooped in to holla at me. Sylvia did too, and Chase followed minutes later. Jaylin chilled in the living room.

“Is everybody ready to eat?” Jada said, carrying the pot of cheesy spaghetti to the table. “The cheese garlic bread will be ready in a few minutes, but I'm not puttin' my cookies in the oven until after we eat.”

“The spaghetti looks delicious,” Sylvia complimented. “Can't wait to taste it.” She looked over at Jaylin. “Are you going to join us at the table, Jaylin?”

He lifted the core of the apple he'd finished. “Nah, I'm good. Good luck with that spaghetti. I'm gon' pray that it works out for y'all.”

Jada put her hand on her hip and bit down on her lip. She didn't say anything, but Sylvia asked Jaylin to come pray with us. “You don't mind blessing the food with us, do you?”

He got up, and then came over to the table with us. We all stood, but I couldn't remember the last time I said a prayer before eating food. Desa Rae was always getting on me about doing so, but I didn't make it a habit. I went with the flow and held hands with the people next to me, Jada on one side and Prince on the other.

“Close your eyes and bow your heads,” Sylvia said. “And Prince, why don't you lead us in prayer.”

There was silence and then he spoke up. “Uh, excuse me. But what did you say?”

“I asked that you lead us in prayer.”

“Nah, ma, I'm not good with that. Next.”

“Roc? How about you?” Sylvia asked.

“I'll pass to Jada.”

“Don't be passin' to me. If I say the wrong thing, somebody gon' try to correct me. Besides, I don't like prayin' aloud with other people around. Let Chase say somethin'.”

“Okay, y'all.” Sylvia sighed from frustration. “Why don't we go around the table and say something that we're thankful for. One at a time and I'll start. Please close your eyes and bow your heads again.”

Everybody bowed their heads, but I was peeking and so was Prince.

“Thank you, Lord, for the food we're about to receive,” Sylvia said. “Bless Jada for preparing it and please watch over all of us
as we take this long journey together for the next three months. Keep us healthy, safe and we pray that we can get along and respect each other. Next.”

Chase spoke up. “Thanks for the food and for giving me an opportunity to be in this house with fine men. If you want me with child, now is the time to do it. I thank you in advance. Next.”

“Lord, don't let nobody make no babies up in here,” Jada said. “But please give me the strength to deal with Jaylin. I pray that I don't have to go upside his head with nothin' made of steel and get arrested. Next.”

“I pray the food is good and that Desa Rae will forgive me for bein' in this house with attractive women. Prince.”

Jada squeezed my hand and giggled.

“Uh, you died on the cross to save my sins. I sin a lot,” Prince said. “Thanks. Next.”

“Lord, please bless all the salt that Jada shook over our food,” Jaylin said. “Remove it from our bodies, so that we all may live long and healthier lives. Burn the garlic bread in the oven because all of that cheese she used is filled with a bunch of fat and calories. Watch over my children, my Nanny B, my money and keep everything safe while I'm away. Amen.”

We all repeated “Amen.”

“Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?” Sylvia said as we opened our eyes and sat down at the table. Jaylin returned to his spot on the couch.

“He really works me,” Jada griped on her way over to the oven. She opened it, and to her surprise the bread was burned.

“See,” Jaylin added with a smile. “When you really need something, all you have to do is pray on it. You need to be banned from the kitchen, woman. Shame on you for serving that shit.”

“Oh my God!” Jada shouted. “Really, Jaylin? I can't wait to see
what you cook, and just so you know, black folks don't eat cavalier every day like you do.”

Chase sucked in a deep breath, then blew it out. “Caviar, sweetie, not cavalier. A cavalier is a vehicle. Besides, I don't know of anyone who wants to eat that every day.”

“Correction,” Jaylin said. “A cavalier is a horseman, soldier, gentleman or knight. The car is only a representation of the real definition.”

“All these damn highly educated people are workin' the shit out of me,” Jada said. “Cavalier, caviar, cocacabana…whatever. Jaylin knows what I meant, and, Chase, I'm not your sweetie. Stop sayin' that mess to me, and if you don't appreciate how I pronounce my words, too bad. I don't appreciate that tiny mole on your neck that looks like a booger, but you don't hear me sayin' nothin' about it, do you?”

I felt what Jada was saying, and I was waiting on a motherfucker to correct me on some shit. But while Chase and Jada went back and forth arguing, we grabbed our plates and started to chow down on the food. The spaghetti was dope. I had to give credit where it was due. The woman could cook her ass off. She was proud when we complimented her and boasted about it.

“I can cook that spaghetti with my eyes closed. I can't wait to cook y'all some more stuff, and cookin' is my specialty.”

“This is very delicious,” Sylvia said as she sucked in a spaghetti noodle. “I like how well you seasoned the meat. The flavors fill the inside of my mouth.”

Prince laughed. “Damn, that didn't come out right and my mind shifted in another direction. This is the business, though, Jada. I haven't had a meal like this since my mom cooked it for me. You done scored some points with me.”

“Glad y'all like it.” Jada blushed and then looked across the
room and yelled at Jaylin. “You don't know what you missin'. I know your stomach is mad as hell at you, so why not give it somethin'?”

He ignored Jada, but tightened his fist as New England fumbled the football. Jada picked up her plate from the table and went to go fuck with him. She stood right in front of him, blocking his view from the TV.

“Did you hear what I said?” she asked.

He tried to move her aside, but she didn't budge. He frowned and looked up at her. “Baby, come on now. I'm trying to watch the game.”

“I will move out of your way, if you taste my spaghetti. If not, I'm stayin' right here.”

Jaylin tried to look around her, but when she moved again, he couldn't see the TV. “Alright. I'm tasting one noodle, that's it.”

Jada forked up several noodles and reached out to give the spaghetti to him. He backed away. “Isn't that your fork? I don't know where your mouth has been, and I do not eat after people. If you want me to taste it, get me a clean fork.”

Jada shook her head, but went into the kitchen to get a clean fork. When she returned to the living room, she plopped down hard on Jaylin's lap to get his attention.

“Yo ass is heavy,” he said, straining and trying to sit up straight. Jada laughed, but didn't move. She used the clean fork to pick up the spaghetti and put it into Jaylin's mouth. He chewed and then swallowed. Afterward, he nodded. “Okay, it's good. Just a tad bit salty, but nonetheless good. Now, get up so I can finish watching the game.”

Jada got up, and as any man would do, he checked out her backside. I couldn't tell if he was down with Jada or not, but I was sure of one thing…I could handle her without a doubt.

She proudly walked away from Jaylin, as if he had just given her a blue ribbon for her spaghetti. But she also went off on him, when he asked her to bring him a full plate.

“Nigga, who or what do I look like?” she said. “Your nanny is at home with them kids. I serve no man who don't put money in my pockets, so get up and get your own food.”

Jaylin got up, but stopped at the kitchen table. Seriousness washed across his face. “Do not refer to me as a nigga, all right? I have a serious problem with that shit. If you can't control your mouth, don't be mad at me when I start running around here calling you bitches and hoes.”

“I know that's right,” Chase said, adding her two cents. “It's a respect thing.”

Jada put her hand up near Chase's face. “Shut up, tramp. You don't have nothin' to do with this. And Jaylin, you do what you gotta do then. You not my daddy and don't nobody tell me what I can or can't say.”

From there, the progress with her, Chase and Jaylin was a wrap. They all went at it, but me, Sylvia and Prince got down on dinner and headed outside to take a swim. Sylvia looked dynamite in her one-piece white swimming suit, and unfortunately for me, my dick had stiffened. I guess the young man in me couldn't control myself. That was a shame, too. I swear I had the best woman that any man could ask for at home waiting for me to return. Desa Rae was all of that and then some. She helped me change my life around and get serious about it. It was because of my relationship with her that I had started to realize life had more to offer than selling drugs on street corners, beefing with niggas and fucking pretty women. We had this Black Love thing going on and switched my thoughts of how spectacular Sylvia looked in her swimming suit, and I thought about how beautiful Desa Rae looked
the first time I saw her at a carwash my uncle, Ronnie, owned.

I was working as the manager that day and it was brought to my attention that a woman was in the waiting area, complaining because service was too slow. As I walked up front to find out why the woman was griping, Desa Rae squinted to look at the name on my jumpsuit. Almost immediately, I could tell she liked me, but she was so mad that my good looks were ignored. “Are you the manager?” she asked.

I shrugged because her attitude was kind of annoying. “I'll just say that I'm in charge of things for today. What up?”

She let out a frustrating sigh and kept rolling her eyes without saying anything. If she wasn't willing to talk then I didn't know how to help her. I had plenty of other ways I could help her, and there was something so sexy about how she carried her thickness. Her curves had my palms sweating, and her madness was kind of cute.

“Let me try this again,” I said. “How can I help you or do you prefer to stand there with attitude?”

All she did was turn around, sway her hips from side to side, as she made her way to the door. She yanked on it and rushed outside to get into her car. I followed behind her, confused as fuck about why she refused to open her mouth. She had been doing a lot of beefing before I walked up front, now all of a sudden it stopped.

She got into her car and slammed the door. I stood by the driver's side window, scratching my head, but refused to let her go without explaining herself. It looked as if she wasn't going to lower her window, so I knocked on it. She ignored me and put the car in reverse. Unable to go anywhere because a car was in front of her car and behind it, she pounded on the horn. It was apparent that she had some other shit going on in her life. I had never seen anyone so upset over not being able to get their car washed. She took a deep breath and then lowered her window to hear me.

“Are you havin' a postal moment or what? Maybe I should back
away from the car in case I get shot. You too dope to be as angry as you are, and if I've done anything to upset ya, hey, my bad.”

She sat silent for a while and tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. It appeared that she was in deep thought, and then she apologized to me for being such a bitch.

“All I want is my car washed. Is that asking too much? I'm on my lunch break, and I have thirty-five minutes left.”

I felt kind of bad for her. The fellas had indeed been slacking and it was the third complaint of the day. I pulled on her door handle and offered to personally wash her car for her. She smiled, and then got into my shit about getting inside of her car with my dirty jumpsuit on. I promised not to mess up anything, so she got out of the car and stood in front of me. Her eyes searched me from head to toe and I could tell she was undressing me. I decided to help her out, and instead of keeping the dirty jumpsuit on, I started to remove it.