On the Come Up (22 page)

I didn’t tell you about my teeth? She finally said. I used to have a set the dentist glued in. They fit good. I had a nice smile, real nice smile. See that picture over there? That’s me with my teeth in.

AnnMarie crossed to the kitchen where Beatrice was pointing.
She peered at a very small photograph, like the kind you use for a ID card. It was Miss Beatrice all right, with all her teeth, hair short but not butch-like, more like a cute afro, kinda spiky in the front with reddish tips.

You like nice, Miss Beatrice.

I got that picture took about six, seven years ago, when I got my visa renewed … That’s where I met Bertrand, Bertrand Gold. I ain’t never told you about him?

Huh-uh. So Miss Beatrice told AnnMarie about the man Bertrand Gold who she’d met in the waiting room of the visa building and dated for a while. He’d taken her out to Coney Island to have some fun. They went on all the rides—the Scrambler and the Tilt-A-Whirl and the Cyclone, one of the rides whipping her back and forth so hard her teeth popped out her mouth, gone for good.

AnnMarie felt the urge to laugh but didn’t. She said, Miss Beatrice that’s terrible.

Um-hm. I’m looking around, all over the place, searching for my teeth. This fella Bertrand asks me what I’m doing. I don’t want to tell him but I do. I say, My teeth fell out and he kinda backs up, you know, like he disgusted. Then he goes and gets a hot dog. Didn’t help me. Nothing. I guess he didn’t like a girl with no teeth.

AnnMarie watched her shoulders rise up in a shrug. But I’d just as soon known then what kinda man he is, rather than later, you know, if I fall in love …

AnnMarie wanted to reach over, pat her shoulder, give her a hug, something. But the moment passed and Miss Beatrice was saying, They made me a new set but I lost those somewhere. So now I’m stuck with this. Smiling wide, showing off her teeth holes.

Yeah, AnnMarie liked that lady.

Dean would call up, he’d tell her about an audition he heard
about, or he’d pass on her name to another producer or casting director—they’d call her in to try out for some little part or another. Miss Beatrice let her go in the middle of the day. She’d take the train into the city, do her thing—Beatrice would cover for her, sign her card nine to five, agency never knew.

That’s how she got cast in another movie. Got a role playing a ex-felon at a halfway house. The main character was played by the actress Maggie Gyllen-something, Maggie Something. A white girl. She was nice, had a pretty smile. AnnMarie liked her. The director was nice too—a female director this time. AnnMarie was only there for one day but it made her feel good just doing it. Being on set again—
Lights, Camera, Action
.

Go back to work, Miss Beatrice’d say, how it go? How you do? Any big stars there? Anybody I know.

And AnnMarie would tease her. She’d say, Well you know me, Miss Beatrice. And Miss Beatrice would laugh and laugh, her teeth holes all black and shit.

One day AnnMarie showed up to work, Miss Beatrice wasn’t there. She stood at the door knocking, calling out, Miss Beatrice, you in there? A neighbor opened up his door and said, Cops came by, took her out in handcuffs. AnnMarie said, What? The neighbor said, Yeah, cops came by, they was hauling her out the door, she was crying, saying, You hurting me. You hurting me. AnnMarie said, That’s terrible. She knew how much the arthritis hurt, the stabbing pain Beatrice got when she tried to walk. But the neighbor man was chuckling.

That old girl finally got caught. Passing all those bad checks. She finally got caught.

AnnMarie looked at him surprised but he didn’t say more, just closed the door.

AnnMarie stood for a long time in front of Miss Beatrice building. Then she found a pay phone and called the agency. They said, Go home. We call you with another placement.

AnnMarie said, Well, am I getting paid, ’cause I can’t take no time off. They said, Go home, we call you.

Two weeks and three days, AnnMarie was home with Star, that child giving her more trouble than she worth. She want, she want, she want—when they say Terrible Twos they mean it. Star getting her hands into everything, pushing a chair into the kitchen, climbing up onto the counter, getting into the bag of cookies. Pulling open the fridge, trying to lift the Fanta bottle off the shelf. What you doing, AnnMarie’d say. You can’t have that.
No
.

Star’d say no right back at her. She don’t get what she want, she throw herself down, start screaming.

Niki’d sit there, laughing. AnnMarie glaring. You getting a time-out. She’d scoop Star up off the floor, put her in the crib and close the bedroom door.

What you doing, Blessed’ ask. Pick that child up.

Hell, no. She need to learn.

Star’s screams knocking against the door, Niki trying to keep a straight face.

AnnMarie tsked. Y’all think you know better?

She’d decided against the home-style playgroup she’d been offered by Family Services. Problem was, when AnnMarie was at work, Blessed hardly ever went out. Had her in front of the TV all day, watching
Sesame Street
. AnnMarie knew, almost three years old, Star need to be out, not in—walking, talking, playing with other kids. But she hadn’t been able to do it. She just couldn’t bring herself to leave Star with no strangers.

Two weeks and three days. The agency finally called up, sent her down to Beach 96th Street, name on the card was Doris Pullman. Her hair gone to white, small and frail, her brown skin speckled with age spots. AnnMarie soon learned Miss Doris was angry. Always angry over the smallest thing. The way AnnMarie chop up the garlic, the way she stirred the food or set the wood spoon on the counter. Hovering, saying I hope you clean that up. Having her mop the floor every day. Every day. Who needs to have they floor mopped every day?

AnnMarie’d go to work. Do chores, cook food, give meds, five o’clock go home.

It was boring as hell.

Some days she’d try to track Darius down. By then, she didn’t care so much about CeeCee, whether he with her or not, whether he lying or not, whether he back sticking up stores or making music. She didn’t know why—she just knew it’d been a while since she listened for his knock or his footstep on the stair. Maybe it was ’cause of Omar Epps, seeing him that day on Main Street. She’d caught a glimpse of a black man who’d done something with his life. Omar Epps. She never got to meet him but was okay with that. Dean had found a poster of him and gave it to her as a birthday present. She taped it up over her bed.

Still. She’d take Star with her, popping the stroller over cracks and potholes, she’d say, Let’s go say hi to Grandma Darla, see where your daddy at. His mother had moved into Redfern Houses, a two-bedroom apartment over there in the grid of low-rise buildings. His sister Vanessa and her child went with them, taking one of the bedrooms. Darius got the couch. Once in a while she’d catch him home. She’d take Star out the stroller and give her a nudge, saying Go on, say
what up
to your father. Star holding on to her pant leg, not moving. Darius would laugh, bending to scoop
her into his arms. The question of money and child support inevitably leading to a beef—fat lip, bruised arm, teeth rattling upside her head.

Sometimes he’d pop up at Blessed’s and she’d let him in. Sometimes they even made love.

’Cause she wanted Star to know him.

Like, This your father. This is your father. Even if he is a fucking retard.

Niki’d look at AnnMarie and shake her head.

Ways a the heart and alla that.

She’d never kissed a girl before but Niki was kissing her now, her mother in the other room, home health aide doing something, washing dishes at the sink. Star napping right there in the crib.

A breeze pushed through the window. She could hear the clink of metal and water running, feel Niki’s tongue swirling in her mouth but it was hard to concentrate since all she could think was how Niki her best friend and what Darius gonna say if he find out.

Niki musta sensed something ’cause she pulled away and AnnMarie could tell she was looking at her so she opened her eyes. Niki’s face seemed different all of a sudden, unfamiliar, so AnnMarie closed her eyes and kept them closed until she felt Niki’s lips on hers again. Niki’s hand brushed her nipple, then slid down her waist until she found the spot between her legs and AnnMarie couldn’t help it—a moan came out even though she didn’t know for sure what she was feeling, she just knew it was something.

AnnMarie! Her mother’s voice made them jump and Niki sat up quick.

Then Star stirred in the crib, her eyes coming open, sleepy eyes looking through the bars at her mother.

AnnMarie crossed to Star, bent and scooped her up, the child yawning.

Blessed always be doing that, Why she gotta do that, AnnMarie said, even though inside she felt relief.

AnnMarie!

AnnMarie tsked, set Star on her feet and said, Go tell your grandma how she woke you. Star turned, pressing her forehead into the fold of AnnMarie’s lap and said, No.

No, go on—go in there, stubborn, and tell Grandma how she woke you with her yelling.

Star started to whine, shaking her head back and forth ’til Niki picked her up and carried her into the living room.

Blessed looked up from the couch.

Where you off to, Niki, where AnnMarie at?

She in there. You want me to tell her to come out?

AnnMarie leaned in the doorway and looked at her mother.

Blessed said, I need you to go to Thriftway, get this prescription filled.

I need to feed my daughter first.

I’ll feed her. You get my prescription. I need to take my medicine.

Why’nt Ondine go. It her job, ain’t it.

Ondine act like she don’t hear. Leaning against the counter, staring at Niki, eating a bowl of something she heated up.

Ondine said, What I want to know is if there’s a girl underneath all that boy clothes.

Niki looked at her like,
I fuck you up, bitch
. Which made AnnMarie laugh and then they passing out the door, Star curled up next to Blessed, one happy family.

They walked to the drugstore, the whole time Niki acting as if the kiss ain’t happen, talking her ear off about this girl Paloma she want AnnMarie to meet, this girl who live out by Latania’s mother, a feminine gay girl, real pretty, wear the mule shoes, skintight Calvins, how she know all these interesting people in the fashion world.

AnnMarie kept saying, Um-hm. Okay. Yeah, that sound good. And in her head she was glad Niki wasn’t making a big deal outta it. In her head thinking she can’t believe what just happen. Niki was her best friend but
now
what she gonna do. Be Niki’s lover? She ain’t gay. She love Niki, but she ain’t gay. Was she?

Plus Niki had Nadette. She knew they was still messing around even though Niki denying it ever since Dennis finally caught on and told Nadette he want out. Moved in with some other girl on the other side a Central. Some ugly chick, Nadette had said, with dyed red hair like clown hair, and a skinny ass. Sounding jealous, which made Niki stare at her hard like she stupid—the whole thing turning into one big soap opera. Coming to the corner now, she sensed Niki go quiet. Three fellas standing in front of Mott’s Famous with they red bandanas, teeth shining.

Too late to switch up and cross the street. AnnMarie tried to act natural.

She glanced at Niki. What you say?

Nothing.

You just asked me something.

No I didn’t.

One a them smiling at AnnMarie now, getting ready to make his play. She could see it in his eyes before the words came out: Hey there shortie, you look fine today.

Sure she do.

Why don’t you hold up a minute and let me talk to you.

Mm-mm-mm …

What’s your rush, girl.

One a them she knew from around the way, always on one corner or another mouthing some type a bullshit, thinking he Don Juan. Same dude Darius stepped to one time when they first hook up, but the guy don’t seem to remember that now.

Hold up now.

She with her boyfriend.