Relapse: A Novel (20 page)

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Beijing said in disbelief.

“Afraid not,” Fiona said and laughed bewitchingly. “I would have gotten away except the saleswoman asked for my autograph.”

“Fiona, I’ll get you out of this, but I want your credit card number on file. And not the credit card you gave us last time—that was over the limit!”

“Okay, I will give you my boyfriend’s card.”

Within thirty minutes Fiona was free. And promised Beijing that she would be forever in debt to her.

“Beijing, I owe you big-time. If there’s anything I can do for you, please let me know. I’m in debt to you.”

When Beijing got home she cut on the radio and cooked herself
something to eat. She was deep-frying some shrimp and french fries and out of nowhere she suddenly broke out laughing, thinking about how the deer got in her father’s house and destroyed the dinner.

Then the laughter turned to sobbing. Was her mother rubbing off on her? The tears wouldn’t stop flowing. She was thinking about Lootchee, how he did her. How he had cut off all communication with her and even changed the locks on the doors to the house in Texas, how she had been staying in the Tabby of Dallas for the past four months working and had not seen or heard from him. How could he be so cruel? He had deserted her, and she felt trapped and so sad and unhappy. There was no way she could go back to Texas, and as stupid as it might sound it was the deer that had made her realize that she was alone and confused. She had been neglecting her clients, her job, and herself. Though her clients or boss hadn’t complained, she knew that she wasn’t living up to her own expectations.

Father knows best! It’s time for me to get out of Texas!

$  $  $

The phone was ringing for what seemed like the hundredth time. And like the last ninety-nine, she didn’t answer it. She wasn’t in the mood for talking to anybody about anything. It was probably one of her annoying clients like Josie Ross. Again! She was the persistent assistant to a woman desperately seeking the brand-new Hermès bag, which had a six month-long waiting list. Or Lamont Rowe, a pro athlete planning a bachelor party; he needed some exotic dancers who didn’t mind going above the call of duty to entertain him and his guests. All of these were things that she could make happen at the drop of a dime, but for some reason over the past few weeks she was dropping the ball, not focusing on work or anything else that really mattered in her life.

Or maybe it was even Thaddius himself, wanting to know what was wrong with her. Why hadn’t she done whatever stupid damn
thing they wanted her to do now? Why couldn’t they just leave her alone?

The phone stopped for a moment and started ringing again. The caller ID indicated it was a private number.

What if it was Lootchee? Deep down she knew it wasn’t but what if it was? Sure, she was still furious at him for the way he had done her, but she still wanted to speak with him.

“Hello,” she said, waiting and hoping.

“Happy birthday to you!” It was Don, a day late and a dollar short to wish her a happy birthday. He sang before going into a special birthday rap that he had written just for her. As well-thought out and executed as it was, it should have cheered her up, but it didn’t come anywhere close. She only could give him a dry thank-you for his efforts.

“Damn, I know shit ended on a real foul and sour note between us but I hope you can accept my apology.”

“Um-hum,” she said without much emotion at all. “Whatever.”

“That’s water under the bridge. I’m back now. I was under the influence of so many drugs, I couldn’t see clearly then.” He was waiting for her to say something, but she didn’t. Of all the people in his life, he’d expected her to be more thrilled about his successful trip to rehab.

“Good for you,” Beijing said.

“Beijing, what’s wrong?” he asked. “I thought you would have more to say.”

“Nothing,” she murmured, her voice cracking.

“That nothing sounded a little weak to me. B, are you crying?”

“No,” she lied. It was none of his business. He’d had his chance to be in her life, but he chose drugs over her.

“Yes, you are. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing you can fix,” she shot back.

“Try me?” Don pressed.

“Look, I don’t want to talk about it, and I am really glad you went to rehab. Now I will talk to you later.” She hung up.

Don could not believe she’d left him listening to Mr. Tone. He kept calling back until she finally answered again.

“What is it, Don?”

“Obviously, there is something bothering you,” Don stated. “Is the family okay? Your dad? Greta? Chyna? Your mom? Your sister?” he asked in one breath.

“Yup, they all fine.”

“You’re not sick, are you?”

Lovesick
, she thought, but said, “No, I’m fine.”

Don tried to think what could possibly have his friend, ex-girlfriend, and manager down like this.

“Are you pregnant?”

“Hell no,” she answered a little louder than she meant.

“I mean if you are, I can stand in as the baby’s father. We don’t have to tell anybody anything different.”

That made her chuckle.

“How noble of you, but it’s not that.” Tears were falling from her eyes. “I just need to get my shit together and concentrate on me and my business, that’s all—how to build my multimillion-dollar empire.”

“I know the feeling. I had to get a clear mind. A cloudy mind will block a sunny forecast. Now that I got my shit right, I’m about to get ready for this big tour.”

“Oh that’s so wonderful, Don.” She was really genuinely happy for him, but his good fortune wasn’t good enough news to stop her tears. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Maybe you should get away,” he suggested. “Come to Atlanta.”

“For?” She had no intention of getting back with him.

“An escape. Remove yourself from your usual surroundings.”

“I’m not escaping with you … or whatever you want to call it. Not happening.”

“Get yo’ mind out of the gutter, girl.”

“You said come to Atlanta.” She was puzzled. “That’s where you are, right?”

“Right, but no strings attached. I just want to show you a good time, get you away from whatever it is that has you feeling the way you feeling. Look, you held me down at a time when I didn’t even know if I was coming or going. You saved me when I was unable to save myself time and time again doing the same crazy-ass shit day in and day out. Through all my bullshit you’ve been nothing less than a real friend to me from Day One when I walked into the hotel and four hours later you were driving the getaway car for me. You didn’t know me from a can of paint, yet you treated me like a friend.” He paused for a brief moment then continued. “For that reason alone, you will always be my nigga. Straight up! So, if I can help you in any way, shape, or form, I got you! If it means you coming to A-T-L is the way to help, then it’s settled. You need to be on the first thing smoking to the A.”

Beijing was touched by Don’s feelings. “How sweet,” she softly said. “But thanks but no thanks.”

“Please, come to A-T-L baby!” he urged. “Sun, fun, relaxation, plus I know you could network your ass off here. This is a good place to get your business popping.”

She was thinking about what Don was saying, about the contacts she could make in Atlanta. Her father always said,
Success is the best revenge
. She smiled when she saw a future where her exclusive concierge business could be launched and she could be working for no one but herself. And how one day Lootchee would see her again and when he did, she’d be living a life of luxury; her business would be booming louder and more legitimately than his shady ventures. Don snapped her out of her daydreams.

“My label got me set up in this mansion, so I can be near the rehearsal site by day and mingle with the A-town moguls by night. You can have your own wing if you want. It ain’t costing you shit. Just two friends in a big house trying to get their A-games right, tight, and back on track. Maybe you could transfer to the Tabby down here for a while.”

“I don’t think I’m going to transfer to Atlanta, but maybe I
would see if I can work there for a couple of weeks to help out. My boss has been asking me to go down there and help out.”

What did she have to lose? Maybe a new atmosphere would help her get Lootchee off her mind and her money and business back on it.

Beijing stopped by her mother’s house and could not figure out what was happening on Willabee’s block. It was so packed that she had to leave her car a couple of blocks down the street; there was no place to park. As she closed the distance on foot to the house, she discovered the source of the crowd.

Momma’s having a party and didn’t even tell me
, Beijing thought to herself as she caught the eyes of a few people hanging out in the yard in the cold, drinking cocktails. As she was walking up the sidewalk, she passed another couple with Styrofoam carry-out trays of food in their hands. Once Beijing hit the porch she could smell the fried chicken. Willabee loved to cook and she made the best soul food Beijing had ever tasted in her life, so her mouth was watering just thinking about what her mother had cooked up.

Beijing walked into the house. Everyone seemed to be having a grand ol’ time. People were sitting and standing around, stuffing
their faces, drinking, smoking cigarettes, and placing orders for liquor and food.

Beijing moved around the crowded smoked-filled bungalow, putting drinks on coasters and picking up empty beer bottles and abandoned cups while all the time trying to find Willabee. She spotted her mother across the room interacting with her guests acting like she was some rich lady entertaining the likes of dignitaries and diplomats. Beijing was tickled by Willabee’s ensemble: a long electric-blue sequined gown with the same-colored heels to match, with a sequined beret cocked to the side and a long fox boa thrown on her shoulder. She looked like she was from the Roaring Twenties. Even in her fifties, her mother was as beautiful as ever.

“Momma, what’s going on?” Beijing approached her mother.

“Just having a little social, that’s all.” She was holding a plate filled with fish, greens, corn bread, and macaroni and cheese.

Beijing was used to her mother having card games, going to bingo, and even taking trips to the casino, but not all of these people at her house. “You always told me that you didn’t like a bunch of people in your house.”

“And that hasn’t changed. I don’t normally, but I’m not dealing with the norm right now.”

Before Beijing could comment, Willabee continued, “I have to raise money for Chyna.” She exchanged the food with a lady for a ten-dollar bill.

“Raise money for Chyna?” Beijing was baffled. “Momma, why? I gave you money for Chyna’s spring break program already. That wasn’t enough?”

“It was more than enough,” she informed Beijing and then turned to someone else. “Marvin, did you pay for that drink?”

“Yeah, Willabee. I paid Sharon,” he said.

Willabee turned back to her younger daughter. “I just ran into a little problem and I’m trying to fix it. Now let me go entertain and make this money.”

“Momma, you don’t have to do this. How much do you need?” Beijing went into her bag and flashed out her checkbook.

“I don’t want your money, baby.” She patted Beijing’s hand and gestured for her to put the checkbook away. “I just can’t take it. It wouldn’t be right for you to have to pay for one program two times.”

“What do you mean two times? Momma, what happened to the money? Did you have to pay a bill or something with it?” Beijing asked, curiosity getting the best of her.

“Harry, you want another one?” Willabee asked a guy who was standing nearby.

He nodded as he passed her a five-dollar bill.

“Go in there and see Sharon,” she directed him as she went in her bosom, pulled out a bankroll, and added the five spot to it.

“Momma,” Beijing pressed.

“No, I didn’t. I would never do that to the baby, you know that.” She added, “Not even off my meds.” Willabee shot Beijing a look.

“Then what?” Over her mother’s shoulder, Beijing could see Paris coming in the front door and walking toward the kitchen.

Willabee sat down in an aluminum folding chair that one of her patrons had just gotten out of and dropped her head in shame. “Paris stole the money and smoked it up.”

“She did what?” Beijing raised her voice and put her hand on her hip.

“Yup, doing the same bull …” Before Willabee could finish, Beijing stormed into the kitchen and was up in Paris’s face.

“The damn baby’s money? You know you should be ashamed of yourself, Paris.” Beijing was so mad that she wanted to take her sister out in the backyard and kick her ass.

Paris raised her hand palm out, “Talk to the hand ’cause I don’t want to hear no fucking lecture from your Goody Two-shoes ass.”

Beijing looked at her and if looks could kill, Paris would’ve been six feet under. “How could you steal from your own child?”

“I didn’t. I took the money from Momma, not Chyna,” Paris said without remorse.

“But it wasn’t yours to take and furthermore how could you steal from your own damn mother?”