Insatiable (22 page)

O
n Monday morning Terelle called out sick. Angry and confused, there was no way she could concentrate on her responsibilities at work. Marquise had the day off and she needed to get home to attend to her business. She tried to awaken Saleema to get a ride, but Saleema, worn out from her Oscar-worthy performance, slept like the dead. As was her habit, she’d probably sleep until noon or later.

Terelle groaned at the thought of having to go out into the early morning cold to wait for the bus, but she wasn’t about to sit around and wait for Saleema to come back to life. Thank God she didn’t have to pick up Markeeta. Aunt Bennie had volunteered to drop her off at the day care center.

An hour later, Terelle bounded the stairs to her apartment. Marquise was sitting in the living room watching TV. He sprang up when Terelle entered the apartment.

“I know what you thinkin’, but I can explain,” Marquise said in a broken, pained voice as if he were the one who’d been wronged.

Although her eyes projected rage, feeling drained of energy, Terelle plodded to the closet and hung up her coat. “How are you going to explain staying out for three damn nights?” she asked wearily. “I can’t understand why you even bothered to come back. You want Danita? Go ahead…pack your shit and go live with her and her kids.” Terelle nodded to the bedroom. “Want me to help you pack?”

“You talkin’ crazy. I told you…I ain’t fuckin’ wit Danita.”

“Well, you’re fuckin’ with somebody. Now pack your shit and go back to the tramp you been layin’ up with all weekend. I’m through, Marquise. Me and Keeta will be just fine without you.”

A grave expression covered his face. He lit a cigarette, puffed deeply, but didn’t utter a sound.

“That’s right,” Terelle continued, irate. “While you were in jail,” she sneered, “I took care of Keeta by myself and I did it from the day she was born.” She gestured angrily, her movements a quick succession of furious finger pointing and heated hand waving. “Now, after all I’ve been through…” She paused, her rapid movements slowing down as she began to brush wisps of hair from her face. “You gotta be crazy if you think I’m gonna let you and that smut disrespect me and my child.”

Marquise folded his hands in his lap, looked down and studied them. Then, raising his gaze, he said sadly, “You think I fucked up, but it ain’t the way it looks.”

“It looks pretty damn bad, Marquise.”

“I know, I know. But I been makin’ major moves all weekend…”

“I bet,” she said sarcastically.

“Naw, on the real…I hooked up with these Jamaican boys; I been tied up with the Jakes all weekend, making major moves like I said.”

“Even if I was stupid enough to believe you, I still ain’t tryin’ to be with nobody stupid enough to keep getting back into the game.” She sucked her teeth. “You’re fuckin’ hopeless, Marquise!”

“This ain’t about drugs,” he said in hot denial. “Babe, you already told me how you feel about that, and I told you…I’m through hustlin’. The shit I’m about to git into is totally legit.”

Terelle gave a frustrated sigh.

“Seriously, the Jakes got plans to open up some clubs in Atlantic City—in the black neighborhoods. They want me to run one of their spots.” Marquise beamed proudly. “My old head Jocko knew me back when I was a young buck—back when I first started hustlin’. He peeped the way I handle myself; he recognizes a thoroughbred when he sees one…”

“Hmph!” Terelle muttered in disgust. She hated it when Marquise tried to pump up his hustlin’ skills. He knew as well as she did that while he was in the game, he took one
L
after another and could never rise above the common street hustlin’ level. The hard grindin’, the late hours he’d kept were always the result of his having to play catch-up after getting stuck up or trusting some triflin’ nigga who inevitably messed up his money.

“Stop lying, Quise!” Terelle sounded flustered.

There was a painful silence, then Marquise crossed to the other side of the room; he took a box off the windowsill and handed it to Terelle. She opened it.

“That’s the good faith gift Jocko and his boys gave me. Look at the price tag—that watch cost over two G’s.”

With obvious relief, Terelle examined the price tag and then the watch. “It’s beautiful, Quise. But, I wouldn’t trust them Jakes. Who knows what they’re really into? You think Donald Trump gonna let some damn Jamaicans get a slice of that Atlantic City pie? I think it’s a scam. If they are opening up a spot, you know damn well it’s just a front for drugs. They’re cutting you in so you can be the one to take the fall when the shit goes down. Damn, Quise—why do you have to get involved in shit that’s bound to have us living on the edge? You promised me a normal life…and if these Jakes could get you so tied up that you couldn’t even get your ass home, how much worse will it get when you start running the spot?” Terelle rubbed the sides of her head. “I refuse to live like that,” Terelle said, shaking her head.

“Just give me a chance to prove I can be the man you deserve. I can’t do nothin’ for you if I’m workin’ in that stank-ass nursin’ home. All the overtime in the world ain’t gonna git me no real cheddar. Cleaning toilets and scrubbing floors is killin’ me. That ain’t me, Terelle—that’s not who I am.” Marquise’s eyes became clouded and moist. “I’m only workin’ on that nut-ass job to prove how much I love you.”

Terelle felt vulnerable; she could feel herself weakening.

“I know life gotta have somethin’ better than what I been gittin’. It’s my time, babe. I can feel it; please don’t make me miss out on this chance.”

Terelle felt a lump in her throat. She rubbed Marquise’s hand, silently telling him that she understood; she’d give him her support.

“The spot don’t open for another month.” The words flew from his lips so quickly it was as if he’d known all along that Terelle would cave in. All signs of the inner turmoil he’d previous exhibited had quickly vanished. “In the meantime,” he enthusiastically added, “I might have to attend a meeting—once a week, but that’s it. And I promise…look at me, babe.” He lifted her chin with his finger and looked into her eyes. “All this stayin’ out all night and makin’ you worry is over. I know whatchu expect outta me. I’m through wit the dumb shit; it’s a wrap. Aiight, babe?”

Wanting—needing to believe him, Terelle nodded sadly and rested her head on his chest.

Marquise put his arms around Terelle. “I love you, babe. I know I been messin’ up, but all that’s behind us now. You ready to set a date?”

“For what?”

“Our weddin’,” he whispered.

Hearing the words put a tingle up her spine. She cleared her throat, tried to speak but couldn’t.
Had he actually asked to marry her?

“When? Spring…summer…fall?”

“Fall,” she managed to utter in a raspy voice. Clearing her throat again, she said, “We’re gonna have to cut back and start saving for the wedding. I could get some overtime…”

“Fuck that! I should be rollin’ in a couple of months. Babe, I’m gonna have so much loot, we gonna need a money-countin’ machine to keep track of it,” he said, laughing. “But we can get married in September if you want to. Go ’head, set the date.”

Terelle went to the kitchen to check the wall calendar. “September 20
^th
?” she said in a small voice.

“Sounds good to me. Now come here with your pretty ass, sexy self and give your future husband some sugar.” Embarrassed by the compliment, Terelle made timid steps toward him. Marquise picked her up and swung her around.

“Put me down, Quise. You’re gonna drop me!” Terelle squealed happily.

“Yo, be quiet. I gotchu—you ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he said as he covered her face with kisses. “Damn, I missed you, girl,” he said, then paused to kiss her lips. He parted her lips with his tongue, then pulled away abruptly, and looked into her eyes. “I’m in for the long ride, babe…it’s you and me…ridin’ this thang ’til the wheels fall off. Feel me?”

She nodded and stared deep into his eyes, sending him a message of undying, eternal love.

L
ounging in pajamas and slippers and browsing through a ton of bridal magazines while Markeeta watched her favorite cartoons, Terelle was enjoying a tranquil Saturday afternoon. The ring of the telephone disrupted her peace. She wanted to ignore it, but had to pick up just in case Marquise was checking in. Damn, Marquise had been off house arrest for months now and yet she kept forgetting to get the Caller ID feature put back on the telephone.

The meetings Marquise had with the Jamaicans required his being out every Saturday—all day until late at night. To keep Terelle from worrying, he called several times throughout the day and evening via his new cell phone (another gift from the Jamaicans). Assuming the call was from Marquise, she trotted to the kitchen to pick up.

Terelle was shocked to hear Aunt Bennie’s voice; her aunt’s voice was unusually high-pitched; her words were jumbled—incoherent. The only words Terelle could make out were
hospital
and
mother
. And for a horrifying moment, afraid that something awful had happened to her mother, Terelle trembled with fear.

“What’s wrong; what happened to her?” Terelle asked, nearly hysterical.

“She had a stroke,” Aunt Bennie cried.

“A stroke! How? She’s not even forty years old. How’d she have a stroke?”

“I’m not talking about Cassy. I’m talking about
my
mother—Gran had a stroke,” Aunt Bennie explained through sniffles.

A pang of guilt accompanied the relief that flooded through her. Thank God her own mother was all right. Terelle hadn’t talked to her mother since the fateful night that she’d allowed Marquise to kick her out. She’d never forgive herself if something happened to her. This was a wake-up call; she had to make peace with her mother.

“Is Gran gonna be all right? Where are you?”

“It doesn’t look good, Terelle. I can’t find Cassy. I haven’t heard from her in weeks. She’s back out there, you know.”
Back out there
meant Terelle’s mother had succumbed to drugs again.

“You’re going to have to get to the Crozier-Chester Medical Center as soon as you can.”

“Where’s that?”

“In Chester.”

“Why’d you take Gran to a hospital so far away?”

“We were on our way to Dover, Delaware. Gran was tired of Atlantic City; she wanted to try her luck on the slot machines in Dover. I was driving down I-95 and she started breathing funny, then she started having some type of seizure. I pulled off at the first exit—Edgemont Avenue in Chester, Pennsylvania.” Aunt Bennie gasped as she recalled the ordeal and began sobbing again.

“Terelle, I gotta get back to check on my mother. I don’t know if she’s going to make it. You have to get here as soon as possible, okay?”

“Okay, stay calm, Aunt Bennie. I’m gonna call SEPTA travel information to find out how to get there. I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Terelle assured her aunt.

Aunt Bennie let out a small whimper before hanging up. Stunned by the news, Terelle stared at the phone in her hand. She pressed the numbers to Marquise’s cell phone and got his recorded message. Irritated, she quickly redialed. The phone that was intended to be the link for her to reach him whenever she needed him was turned off. She slammed down the receiver, picked it up and pushed redial once more and again she got his voice mail. Beyond pissed, she stubbornly jabbed each digit again. The phone was still off! She wasn’t trying to hear one damn word about him being tied up in a meeting. Her Gran was at death’s door and she couldn’t reach him? This was inexcusable.

Terelle scooped up Markeeta and began to dress her, bundling her in extra layers in preparation for the long journey they were about to embark upon in the freezing cold. Oddly, instead of thinking about Gran, Terelle’s thoughts were focused on Marquise—where the hell was he?

Needing to justify her limited concern for her grandmother, Terelle thought about the two years she’d spent in foster care. Aunt Bennie would have taken care of her, but she was in the army—overseas somewhere. Her grandmother, on the other hand, had been right there in Philly—running her speakeasy. “I ain’t got no time to be raising nobody’s damn kids,” Gran had told the social worker when asked if she were willing to allow Terelle to live with her.

Terelle found herself tearing up at the memory. She vividly recalled the day when she was introduced to her new foster-family fear. She remembered the fear—the feeling of abandonment. She forced the memory from her mind and skipped ahead to the day Aunt Bennie came and rescued her. Aunt Bennie lived with Gran, and that’s where she took Terelle, promising a discontented Gran that she would assume full responsibility for her niece. Gran responded by grumbling under her breath. The words
nuisanc
e and
burden
came out loud and clear. Terelle had no memory of Gran ever uttering a kind word to her.

Still, Gran was blood and Terelle was obligated to show some support. Besides, Aunt Bennie sounded like she was falling apart. Terelle had to get to the hospital to help keep Aunt Bennie straight.

Ten minutes later, the phone rang. “Yizzo! What’s crackin’?” Marquise asked cheerfully.

“My grandmother had a stroke and I needed to get in touch with you. Why the hell was your phone off?” She fumed.

“I’m sorry, babe. I must have pressed the off button by accident. Is she gonna be aiight?”

“I don’t know. She’s in a hospital—somewhere in Chester. I’ve been busy getting Keeta ready; I haven’t even had a chance to call SEPTA to find out which buses ride out there.”

Terelle paused. “I just remembered…there’s a commuter train to Chester that leaves from 30
^th
Street Station. Can you meet me and Keeta there in about a half-hour?” Terelle asked breathlessly.

“Sit tight. I’m gonna tell my man Jocko what happened and see if he’ll let me hold his wheel. I’ll call you right back.”

Terelle’s downturned lips formed into a slight smile as her anger slowly melted away. Marquise—her knight in shining armor was on the case; she could relax. Feeling relieved and proud, she waited for Marquise to call back.

A few minutes later Marquise called to tell Terelle he had access to his business associate’s car and would be there shortly.

Terelle quickly changed into a pair of jeans, a heavy sweater and boots.

A half-hour later, Marquise arrived. He escorted Terelle to the car and strapped Markeeta into the backseat. Terelle was surprised that the borrowed car was a beautiful Mercedes-Benz.

“Jocko has a nice ride,” she said as she adjusted the seat belt and arranged herself in the front seat. “Someone at work drives a car just like this. I’ve seen it parked on the lot…” She paused in thought. “I think it belongs to one of the doctors.” She turned around to check on Markeeta—to make sure Marquise had strapped her in properly. “Saleema swears her truck Jezebel is the shit,” Terelle continued, chuckling. “She’d kill for a car like this.”

“I told you…Jocko and his boys ain’t playin’. Them Jake niggas is all about money.” Marquise glided down Woodland Avenue and turned onto Grey’s Ferry Avenue.

“I know that’s right,” Terelle agreed. Marquise looked extremely handsome as he wheeled the Benz. Terelle wished they could afford a new car, but there was no point in even dreaming about a car that cost more than most houses in their neighborhood. “I’ll be glad when we can get our own car, Quise. We don’t need anything as expensive as this—I’ll be grateful for anything with wheels and a motor,” she said, laughing.

“I saw the new F150—that jawn is the shit! It’s fuckin’ wit the new Cadillac truck, so you know that jawn is hot?” Marquise spoke excitedly as he merged into eastbound traffic on I-76. “If things work out with Jocko, I’m damn sure gonna git
that
truck.”

“You expect to be makin’ that kind of money, Quise?”

“Damn right,” Marquise said with conviction. “Shit, we gon’ need a money-counting machine
and
a safe if things work out accordin’ to plan.”

“But for now…wouldn’t it make more sense to get something we can afford…and then move up to an expensive truck?”

Marquise stuck in a CD and started blasting Biggie’s classic, “Juicy.” “I’m not tryin’ to think small,” he yelled over the music. “I’m goin’ after what I really want and I want a fly-ass truck with some bangin’ twenty-inch spinnin’ rims. That’s right, I’m gon’ put some dubs on my truck!” Moving his neck and shoulders rhythmically to the beat, Marquise rapped along with Biggie while he drove.

Terelle didn’t know what to say. The Jamaicans seemed to be changing the way Marquise looked at life; the jury, however, was still deliberating on whether the change was for the better.

A shocking gasp escaped her lips when Terelle was finally admitted to Gran’s room. The helpless-looking woman lying in the bed surrounded by wires, tubes, and monitors hardly resembled her feisty grandmother.

“Gran?” she whispered as she worked her way around the pole that held the feeding tube. “Can you hear me, Gran?”

“I don’t think so,” Aunt Bennie replied solemnly. “She’s still sedated. God, I hope my mother pulls through this. I had to sign all kinds of papers and it was so hard making those kinds of decisions.”

“What kind of decisions?”

“My mother didn’t have a living will and I had to give permission for them to keep her alive with a feeding tube and to put that thing—that trachea tube or whatever it’s callled—in her throat to help with her breathing or something. I really don’t know what I was signing. I signed whatever they said she needed to stay alive. I could have used Cassy’s support, though. It’s not fair the way Cassy never has to be accountable for anything…” Aunt Bennie burst into tears.

“I’m so sorry, Aunt Bennie,” Terelle said, consoling her aunt with a tight hug. “I’m here now…I can stay with Gran. Do you want to go home and get some rest?”

Aunt Bennie shook her head vigorously. “I have to be here when my mother wakes up.” Aunt Bennie wiped her tear-streaked cheeks.

Marquise was in the waiting area with Markeeta, and Terelle was glad he didn’t have to witness this sad scene in Gran’s room. He would have just stood around fidgeting, not knowing what to do or say.

“I want to stay here with you, but they won’t let Keeta in the room, so I’m gonna tell Quise to take her home. I’ll be right back. Okay?”

Sniffling, Aunt Bennie nodded. There was appreciation in her bloodshot eyes.

Marquise looked up expectantly when Terelle entered the waiting area. “How’s your grandmother doin’?”

Terelle shook her head regretfully. “Not too good. I’m gonna have to stay here with Aunt Bennie…I know you have to take the car back to your friend…”

Marquise nodded. “Yeah, I told him I’d only be gone an hour or so. You gonna be all right here with Keeta?”

“That’s the problem…Keeta isn’t allowed in the room, so…you’ll have to take her with you. Think your friend would mind dropping you and Keeta off at home?”

Marquise gripped his chin thoughtfully. “I’m not sure…you think Saleema or one of your other friends can watch Keeta? Um…I have to get back ’cause we were in the middle of some important business when you called.”

“Marquise! What’s your problem? I don’t know if Gran is going to make it through the night and you’re talkin’ this shit about finishing up some important business.” Terelle’s eyes blazed in indignation.

“Calm down, babe.” He grasped her hand. “I’m sorry. Look, don’t worry about Keeta; I got that covered. You stay here and look out for your grandmother. Can you get a ride with your aunt?”

“Yeah, she’ll take me home,” Terelle said with a sigh.

“Aiight. Hit me up later.” Marquise kissed Terelle and left carrying Markeeta.

When Terelle returned to her grandmother’s room, she found Aunt Bennie hovering over Gran’s bed; she looked completely wiped out. She gazed at her grandmother and quickly looked away, telling herself she was there only to support her aunt because her grandmother had never been there for her. Terelle cast another look at Gran and winced. Gran had always seemed larger than life, but now she appeared so pitifully small and fragile. When had that happened? Gran had been a large woman, a threatening being with a loud booming voice who had terrorized her own two daughters throughout their childhood and even after they’d become adults. Terelle had been raised to fear and respect her grandmother. Though she no longer feared her, to this day, not once had she ever raised her voice to Gran. That respect was motivated by love—a feeling Terelle had been unaware of until that moment. Seized suddenly by the fear of losing her grandmother, Terelle burst into tears. Her sobs shook her shoulders.

“Don’t leave us, Gran,” she cried. “Please, Gran…I love you…Don’t die.”

Aunt Bennie gathered Terelle in her arms. Though tears fell from her eyes, Aunt Bennie tried to comfort Terelle. “Don’t cry, baby,” she said. “Everything is going to be all right. Your grandmother is a fighter; she’s gonna pull through this.” Aunt Bennie released Terelle and looked her in the eye. “But when she gets herself together and starts cussing out the doctors and nurses, we’re gonna miss the peace we’re having right now. So let’s enjoy it!” Aunt Bennie laughed as she wiped tears from her eyes.

And through her tears, Terelle smiled, then laughed aloud. Aunt Bennie was right. Mean ol’ cantankerous Gran was gonna wake up and commence to cussing out everybody—from the doctor on down to the cleaning crew. Terelle shook her head. The hospital staff had no idea of what they were in for.