Thong on Fire (25 page)

“Yeah. Whatever. So you still kicking it with Jaheim, huh?”

She giggled. “Kicking it ain’t even saying it, girl. I’m having so much fun with him. You know he went to Cornell, right? So he’s smart as hell. He knows a lot of people in the business too, and everywhere we go people treat him like a VIP. Shit, just being with him makes me feel like one too.”

Tai sounded real stupid.

“Girl, he can’t be all that,” I said, rubbing my chest. I had been having some real bad heartburn lately and Aunt Mercy Ann swore that meant my baby was gonna have a head full of hair. Duh, genius! Damn right he was gonna have a lot of hair! Look at mine!

“Why you say that, Saucy?” Tai demanded. “What’s up! Why you don’t like Jaheim? Don’t hate just because I found somebody. You’ve got Free, right? I’m glad for you.”

“Yeah, I’m glad for you too,” I made myself mutter.

“Good. Because I gotta tell you something.”

Tai sounded funny. Happy. I didn’t like it.

“What?”

“Jaheim gave me a ring. A diamond.”

I sucked my teeth real loud.

“And? You didn’t try to get no earrings or nothing to go with it? No tennis bracelet? No chain?”

She laughed. “Girl, shut up. It ain’t that kinda ring.” Her voice got low. “It’s an engagement ring, dummy. He wants to marry me.”

“Word?” I said, my voice dry as sand.

“Yep. We gonna do the damn thang.”

“Uh. That’s cool.”

“Damn girl! Why you so quiet? I woulda thought you’d be jumping up and down for me.”

“Tai, I’m knocked up, remember? I ain’t jumping up and down for my damn self.”

“Yeah. I remember you’re pregnant. That’s why I’m not asking you to plan my bridal shower. My friend Kamillah is doing it for me.”

“Kamillah? Who the fuck is a Kamillah and what hole did she crawl outta? I ain’t never heard you talk about no Kamillah before. So now she’s your best friend giving you a bridal shower?”

“I didn’t say she was my best friend, Saucy. But she is a
decent
friend. Besides, you don’t need to be worried about nothing else right now but your baby. So just come to the shower and relax and have a good time. The theme is gonna be shoes, so make sure you come stepping in your best pair.”

Did this bitch just say shoes? I looked down at my big fat feet puffing out of them black penny loafers with the nickel in the slot, and hung up right in Tai’s ear.

M
E AND
A
UNT
M
ERCY
Ann were at war. I was tired of her shit. Free had told her to cook for me every day and make sure I ate, and if she slapped one more bowl of thick, nasty oatmeal or plate of big fat greasy sausages down in front of me I was gonna have to hurt somebody.

I was gonna have to hurt Free’s ass too.

Tai had been right. This “diss” thing between him and Quaison musta been escalating because Free told me Quai was going around on radio shows like Hot 97’s
Jonesy in the Morning
and
The Wendy Williams Experience
promoting his new CD and calling Free out and challenging him to come outta retirement and defend himself on a track.

“That young boy just don’t know no better,” Free said. “I can shut him down at any time, but if I gotta call out the goonies he’s gonna regret that shit.”

I wished I was out there to see and hear all that! Quai was stupid, but he had some real heart going up against a guy like Free on the mic. Just hearing about all the beef and the hype had me feeling bored and lonely and if I knew how to drive I woulda jumped in Free’s little Honda and been heading toward the city weeks ago.

Free was still trying his best to keep me occupied by bringing me baby books, novels, magazines, mixtapes, and new CDs, but nothing he did could satisfy me. That damn etiquette coach of his was pissin’ me off too. Talkin’ ’bout my gutter diction and tryna make me say words in some crazy ways my mouth didn’t even wanna go. The only reason I even sat through that shit was because I was so bored, and at least challenging her gave me something to do besides wait.

I couldn’t wait to have this damn baby. I dreamed about hitting the clubs again and getting my Henny and my Corona on. I was actually looking forward to Tai’s bridal shower because at least that meant I would get outta this funky little house and get to talk to some real people.

The bridal shower was gonna be at the Alhambra Ballroom and Free was taking me out there. I had begged him to swing by the apartment so I could get some decent gear to wear, but he killed those hopes real quick.

“Ain’t nothing there you can style anyway,” he said. “All them rags you got are for the club, girl. You Ms. Moore now, remember? Besides, you prolly can’t fit none of that stuff no more anyway. Your booty is powed out, baby. Puffed up and powed the fuck out. I love it.”

I had picked through all the dud-looking clothes him and Aunt Mercy Ann had bought me and I almost cried when the only thing I found that looked halfway decent was a long pink dress with big yellow and black bumblebees on it. I’d be damn if I was gonna be up there with a bunch of butter bitches sporting my penny loafers, but my feet were swollen as hell, and other than my gray slippers and a comfortable pair of Nikes, they were the only dress shoes I had in Jersey.

The morning of the shower I felt miserable. I was back and forth peeing and my feet were puffy. My potbelly stomach made me look like a little teddy bear. I stood in front of the mirror and hated my damn dress, although when I turned around and looked at myself from the back, my ass still looked damn good.

Free came by to pick me up in his damn Honda. I hated that car and wished I could plant a bomb in that bitch. I couldn’t believe he was gonna make me roll up in that junky-ass car when everybody else was probably gonna be climbing out of a Lexus or at least an Escalade.

Aunt Mercy Ann was laying on the couch snoring her throat raw when we got ready to go. She had a big pillow under her head and her feet was propped up on the arm of the sofa. Them turtle-looking thangs was so stink I had to hold my breath every time I walked past her.

“You look real nice,” Free said, holding my hand as we were walking out the door. He meant that shit too. I looked down at myself, and at that moment I knew exactly what kind of dull, drab life Free had planned for me. He had a box that he was determined to make me fit into. This nigga was gonna make me over no matter who I wanted to be. It didn’t even matter to him who I really was. It was all about what I looked like on his arm, and what kinda high-class image I presented to his public. Well fuck him right up his self-conscious ass.

“Yeah,” I said. I let him put me in the car, and the minute he got in on the other side I grabbed my stomach. “Hold up, baby. I gotta pee.”

“You mean,” he corrected as I jumped out the car, “you have to use the ladies’ room, right?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah. That.”

I walked back in the house past Aunt Mercy Ann and tiptoed into her room. I jetted over to her closet, eased the door open, and grabbed her bright pink Manolo Blahnik yard-sale church shoes off the floor. Then I closed it back as quietly as I could and tiptoed back out the door. When I got outside Free was talking to somebody on his cell phone. I dashed around to my side of the car and hopped in, draping my old lady sweater over my feet and setting my Fendi purse in my lap.

“Ready?” Free asked.

I smiled and nodded. “Yeah—I mean, yes. I’m ready.”

Free fought the city traffic for almost an hour.

“You smell something?” he asked, sniffing as we sat stuck in traffic approaching the George Washington Bridge. “Something smells like corn chips.”

I balled my feet up in Aunt Mercy Ann’s shoes and rolled down the window. “Nah,” I lied. “But I need some fresh air, though.” By the time we turned off Adam Clayton Powell Jr. Boulevard and got to the Alhambra Ballroom I had to pee for real. I practically jumped outta the car when Free pulled up, then waved him off telling him I had to get to the “ladies’ room.”

“Yo, call me when you ready to bounce!”

I waved again and ran inside. I bypassed the event room and dashed straight to the bathroom, but peeing is not all I did in there. I kicked off Aunt Mercy Ann’s stank-ass shoes and stuck some balled-up toilet tissue in the toes. Then I took that old lady sweater and hung it on a hook in the stall, and pulled my long, busy dress up and tucked it until it was up under my titties. I grabbed the two ends that made the side split, and tied those thangs together above my stomach, then let the rest of the dress kinda blouse down around my thighs, like an almost-mini. As set as I could be, I put her shoes back on, grabbed my purse and stepped outta that bathroom and wobbled my puffy ass into the ballroom to see what I could get into.

I was not feeling Tai’s fucking shower, and I was not feeling Tai’s fucking friends. Most of these stunts was blinged out in some of the finest and most attractive shine and gear on the market. I mean, I dripped a nice amount of ice, yeah. But these hoes was made up and pressed out and looked just like I would have been looking if Free hadn’t been busy blocking my flow.

And the shoes! Oh, them bitches was wearing them some shoes.

There were Giuseppe joints, woven espadrilles, high-heeled slides, open-toed sandals, fuck-me pumps, and designer stilettos. The hall was decorated all the way down, and Tai’s head table was piled up high with gifts. I had told Free to get her a gift card from Victoria’s Secret, and when Tai stepped into the room I was shocked. Victoria didn’t have shit on Tai when it came to keeping secrets. That bitch had been working out! She had on a lavender pantsuit with ice glinting everywhere. Her hair looked thick and bouncy, and her damn waistline was smaller than mine!

While my cheeks were bloated and my neck was black, Tai’s face was slim and she actually had some cheekbones showing. Her double chin was gone, and she was walking around flossing her new look like she thought she qualified as eye candy now.

“Saucy!” Tai shrieked and
ran
over to me. Tai ran! Did y’all hear me? Tai
ran
!

She grabbed me and squeezed me, rubbing my stomach then pressing her ear to it and talking baby-talk to my navel. “Hey baby boy! Your auntie loves you! Yes she do! Auntie Tai can’t
wait
to meet her little man!”

She looked at me and smiled and hugged me tight again. “Saucy! You look so good pregnant girl! You’ve got that expectant-mother glow, honey. You and Free must be doing real good.”

“Yeah,” I said. “We doing all right. But look at you,” I admitted. “You lookin’ real good too, Tai. You finally put down them damn pancakes, huh?”

She laughed. “Hell yeah. But you should hear how Jaheim be complaining all the time, telling me to keep some meat on my bones. That boy likes ’em hefty!”

Tai sure had a whole lotta friends. I had never been one to hang with females like that, so I couldn’t get with that at all. She dragged them all over to my table too, grinning as she introduced me as the best friend she had growing up. Yeah, them bitches was dressed real fly, but some of them looked like beasts in the face, and I felt a little bit better knowing that even pregnant and puffy, I beat all their ass out in the looks department.

By the time they rolled out that red carpet I was tired of sitting around feeling frumpy and was determined to let my shit show. A photographer was standing at the end of the carpet ready to take pictures, and all the chicks were lined up ready to showcase their shoes.

Snoop’s “Drop It Like It’s Hot” was playing and them jawns was stepping down that red carpet. I saw some of the flyest damn shoes in the world. Every last one of them were designer joints too. French Zanottis. Italian Prevatas. Some had studs, others had buckles, some bitches had on hot espadrilles with straps going up their calves, others had on pumps or toe-outs, or heel-outs with sling-back bows.

I had my lips twisted as I watched them prancing and sashaying down that long red carpet. The cameras was flashing and everybody was screaming and laughing.

When it was my turn on the carpet I showed the fuck out.

All those months of being locked up in a house with Aunt Mercy Ann just came pouring outta me and I heel-toed down that carpet as jealous bitches stunted and Snoop Dogg hollered,
“When the pimp’s in the crib ma, drop it like it’s hot! And if a nigga get an attitude, pop it like it’s hot!”

Oh, I dropped that shit all right. Popped it too. Cut the shit outta that rug. I went down on my swollen ankles and popped my booty all the way back up. I got down low, too. So low I smelled the corn chips in Aunt Mercy Ann’s shoes. But I kept it moving because the photographer was snapping mad photos and I was backing dat ass up and working that red carpet so hard them bitches ’fessed up and gave me my props!

I was feeling myself, clapping my booty cheeks and showing off my shape when it happened. I was coming to the end of the carpet and the end of the limelight too, when I said fuck it and dropped it one more time for the road. I got down so low my ass cheeks hit the back of my heels, and at that moment a big gush of water burst from my pussy and splashed all over my feet, that pretty red carpet,
and
Aunt Mercy Ann’s funky church shoes.

“Shit!” I said. I was stuck down there, leaning back on my hands and trying to get up. Everybody was still clapping and screaming, Go Saucy! but then Tai got hip to what was going down and ran over and grabbed me under my arms and pulled me to my feet.

“It’s okay, Saucy,” Tai said, holding on to me as I stood there wet and in shock. “I got you girl,” she said. “I’m right here for you.” I looked into Tai’s eyes and they confirmed exactly what I was thinking. My ass was about to have a baby! And that’s when that first labor pain stabbed me so hard it took my breath away and I knew it was time to call Free.