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Renee
After I landed in St. Louis, I rented a Jeep Cherokee and started the ninety-minute drive to Columbia. It wasn’t that my girls hadn’t offered to pick me up—I just prefer having my own wheels so I can go where I want when I want without waiting on someone to get me there. Besides, I like driving. It gives me a chance to clear my head and think. And I definitely have a lot to think about.
“Mom, can we stop and get some Church’s chicken?” Tamara called from the backseat.
I rolled my eyes because I hated trying to get food in St. Louis. That place is so damn ghetto it’s ridiculous, but if my kids are hungry, then who am I to deny them? Besides, the sooner I got them fed, the sooner I could get to Columbia. I pulled into the drive-thru, gave my order, then drove around to the window where the cashier was waiting. I handed her the money; she gave me my change. While waiting for my food, I tuned the radio to 100.3 the Beat.
“Mama, can you please turn that down?” Quinton complained. The two of them were in the backseat watching a movie.
Now, don’t get it twisted. Since he said please, I granted his request, then breathed a sigh of relief. They were going to their dad’s for the summer. Thank you, Lord! In two hours, I can officially start my vacation.
The cashier stuck her head out the window. “We ain’t got no wings. It’s gon’ be another twenty minutes.”
What? That’s like Taco Bell running out of soft tacos. Okay, I know that’s not the same thing, but you know what I mean. “Why didn’t you tell me that before I ordered?”
She sucked her gold teeth like she had an attitude. “You wanna order somethin’ else?”
“Nah, I want my money back.”
She had the nerve to roll her eyes, then went to get her manager. Shortly after, some big amazon came to the window. “Is there a problem?” she huffed in what she probably considered good customer service.
“Yeah, the problem is I don’t feel like waiting twenty minutes for wings.”
“How about we throw in a couple of free pies?”
Did I stutter? “How about you just give me my money back?” What part of give me my money back did she not understand?
She looked like she wanted to say something else but decided against it. I stared her dead in the eyes until she reached for the key and punched in a bunch of numbers. As soon as she handed me back my money, I peeled away from the drive-thru window.
Tamara groaned. “Mama, you are so embarrassing.”
I glanced over my shoulder at my daughter and gave her the look. “Girl be quiet! I could see if she’d offered to give us one of our meals free, but nah, she wants to give me some dry-ass pies.” I drove up the street to White Castle and ordered a dozen cheeseburgers and drinks. My kids seemed to be happy to get those little-ass burgers. They make my stomach hurt so I got a shake instead, then whipped onto the highway.
While they ate and laughed in the backseat at some crazy comedy on Netflix, I thought about my life. With the kids gone for the summer, it was time for me to start thinking about what I was going to do next. Last night, I gave John some and it was horrible. He played with my breasts for so long, my nipples were now sore and cracking.
I took a deep breath and weaved into the far-left lane. It had been a year since I made that vow to start teaching and begin building a new life. You would think after all this time I would have a plan and a wad of money stashed away somewhere. I have neither. I’m no closer to getting away from John than I was a year ago. It’s crazy, but I like the life John offers me and after six years I don’t know if I’m ready to give all that up. Now hold up before you pass judgment, give me a moment to explain.
Growing up, I was one of those children who worried about where my next meal was coming from, and if we were going to have lights, I went to school wearing the same clothes twice in one week with generic labels, and was ashamed because I qualified for the free lunch program. Even as an adult, I worried. I had two kids and worked two jobs. They disconnected my utilities several times and repossessed my car. I played beat the check and dug between the cushions on the couch for loose change. I even collected cans so I could get back my deposit.
I moved into the passing lane and shook my head. Not knowing what tomorrow may bring is a terrible way to live, and as much as I want to leave John, there is no way I can return to that life.
Yeah, yeah, I know it isn’t fair for me to be with him while I crave the touch of another man. But you have to understand, I am a woman who needs some good dick. Plain and simple. Long, hard, and in a hurry, because I am about to lose my damn mind! It’s a shame, but if John was working with more, I could put up with all of his other faults. It just doesn’t make any sense, but it’s already been another year and I honestly don’t have any idea what I’m going to do except take it one day at a time. As for now, I’m anxious to get to Columbia and forget about John and all of my problems for the next week.
I got within ten miles of the city limits and felt a warm feeling inside. I don’t know why. When I was a kid, all I could think about was getting far away from this place and never looking back. But I’ve learned you can’t run from your past. Columbia will always be the place where I lost my virginity to some football player on a dare. It is the same town where my crackhead mother walked out on me with no food in the fridge and a disconnection notice hanging on the front doorknob. Hell, that was reason enough to want to leave this place, but no, I stayed and later became the laughingstock of the black community when I was supposedly caught in the bathroom sucking Wayne Williams’s dick. The lies, in addition to being abandoned, were enough to take any teenage girl off the deep end. Instead, I finished high school, married my boyfriend, and gave birth to Quinton and Tamara. It was a hard, rough ride, but here I am, at thirty-eight, a published author, living an upper-class lifestyle with two kids, a spoiled schnauzer named Nikki, and my husband John. Only my life was far from a fairytale. I’ve done shit I wouldn’t even dream of telling my friends about, and my marriage is nothing to brag about. John’s failure in the bedroom is starting to wear on my sanity. And the last thing I need is to snap and end up like my crazy-ass mama.
Well, that’s enough of my life for now.
I pulled off the highway and turned into the mall parking lot. After retrieving my briefcase, I climbed out. Quinton and Tamara grabbed their duffel bags and followed me to the food court.
“Mama,” Tamara whined, “do I have to spend the whole summer with my daddy?”
“Yep.” She started pouting and I just gave her a long look. “Poor baby.” I draped an arm loosely across her slender shoulders and gazed down. Tamara is short and petite, and at fifteen, she has enough curves to put any woman twice her age to shame. Thank goodness she has her head in the books, because I would hate to have to stick my foot so far up some negro’s ass for trying to holla at her. When I’m not around, her brother does a pretty good job of keeping his eye on her.
It was Quinton’s turn to plead his case. “Mama, I’m too old for this. I should be at home working this summer like all my other friends.”
“We’ve already had this discussion. Summers belong to your father.” What my kids don’t understand is I need a break, too. I clothe them, feed them, and put up with their spoiled asses nine months out of the year. The least I deserve is the summer off. “Talk to your dad. I’m sure he doesn’t have a problem with you gettin’ a summer job. Since you’ll be starting your senior year, maybe you won’t have to come next summer, but that’s between y’all.”
Quinton nodded, then hurried across the parking lot. I watched with pride. My son is handsome. He’s well over six feet and takes his height and dark features from my family. The good hair and thick, bushy eyebrows and long lashes he and Tamara both inherited from their father. We stepped into the air- conditioned building and spotted Mario sitting in the corner, sipping a soda.
“Daddy!” Tamara raced over to him, her thick ponytail swinging. It’s funny how seconds ago she was upset about having to spend the summer with him. -
As I moved closer, he rose from the chair and greeted me with a wide grin. Smiling, I shook my head. I don’t know why I used to have a thing for short men, because that is exactly what Mario is.
“Hey, girl.” We hugged and I got this warm feeling inside like I had gone back in time. Back then, Mario was the only man who ignored the rumors, and loved me for me, and I’ll be forever grateful for that. But after several years of him acting jealous and possessive, and putting his hands on me, I had to kick his midget ass to the curb. We’ve now been divorced almost fourteen years.
I chitchatted for a few minutes, then said good-bye to my kids and pulled my rolling briefcase through the mall. As I walked toward Barnes and Noble, I thought about how much I hated book signings, even though I know they’re part of the game. It’s the luck of the draw. Some signings have readers wrapped around the corner waiting for me to autograph their books. Others, I might be lucky if a handful of people come out.
I hate just sitting behind that table at the front of the store waiting for someone to show up, which is why I always invite someone to hang out with me. Luckily, my girls will be there.
I moved into the store and found a table set up right inside the door stacked high with a variety of my books. I sat my briefcase in a chair and within minutes the manager was standing by my side.
“Ms. Moore, thank you so much for joining us again,” she greeted with a high-pitched, perky voice.
I shook her hand, then gave her a simple nod. It’s funny how they quickly forget I remember the first time I had called her to schedule a book signing. The first thing out of her mouth was, “Are the books returnable?”
I was floored. “Returnable?”
“Well yes,” she said as if my surprise was ridiculous. “We’d hate to be stuck with a bunch of books we can’t sell.”
I was completely insulted and hung up on her ass. What kind of marketing rep was she? Hadn’t she heard of customer service? I had immediately called a smaller, independent bookstore I’d worked with over the years. Unfortunately, they went out of business two years ago, like most bookstores that have to compete with the major chains. I ended up contacting B&N again and with five books under my belt, she jumped through hoops to have me sign at her store. Now I actually receive a yearly e-mail from her before the release of my next book. Like I said before, how quickly they forget. If there had been any other decent bookstores in the area, I would have told her to kiss my juicy caramel ass.
While she ran off to find a diet soda, I reached into my briefcase and set up the table. Within minutes, Danielle came strolling my way.
Now, of all my girls, Danny’s my best friend. We’ve always had each other’s back. When I started making money and everybody started hating, she was in my corner. Now that Lisa’s gone, Danielle is the closest thing I have to a sister. Hell, I feel closer to her and her family than I do my own. We’ve been girls since high school and I’ve always envied the fact that she was raised with both parents in a loving environment.
Danielle and I did some shit in our day, but when you’re cute you can do thangs and get away with it. She has a clear honey complexion while I’m caramel. She’s tall and thin with dancer legs and I’m thick and sexy. We’re also both members of the itty-bitty-titty committee. What can I say—we attract brothas like flies to shit. The only problem she has is her attraction to broke-ass niggas. “Whassup, girl?”
“Not a thang.”
I quickly gave her a hug, then lowered into the seat while checking out her outfit. She always looks her best. She was sporting a Michael Kors jean outfit with high-heeled, red-and-white gym shoes. Her shoulder-length brown hair was pulled back from her face, exposing large hoop earrings. My girl has taste, a good-ass job, and her own home, so why in the hell does she like messing around with them fake-ass bustas? I don’t understand it.
“Girl, I’ve had one helluva week.”
Oh, hell. Here we go again. I ain’t in the mood to hear about Ron’s no-good ass today.
“Portia’s pregnant.”
“What?” My head snapped around in time to see her give me a weary nod. “Hell, nah.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen Danielle look that hurt before. “Oh, my God! What’re you gonna do?”
She gave me a weary shrug. “We’re not sure yet She’s spending the weekend with her father, who’s pissed and blamin’ the shit on me. Hopefully, he can help her decide what to do ’bout the baby. In the meantime, I made her a doctor’s appointment”
Damn, I feel for her. If it was Tamara, I don’t know what I would do but I definitely wouldn’t be that calm. I’d be screaming and hollering and looking for the little mothafucka responsible for knocking my daughter up. “Who’s the suspect?” I said suspect because as hot as these girls are nowadays, there’s no telling how many horny little boys might be guilty.
Danielle shrugged. “Who knows?”
I just shook my head.
“I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”
I squeezed her arm. “Girl don’t worry. It’ll all work out.”
“I sure hope so,” Danielle said, though she didn’t look too sure.
I was so glad the manager returned with my soda because teenage pregnancy is a depressing subject and I didn’t know what else to say. Shortly after, the crowd started to line up. I signed books while Danielle handed out magnets and personalized pens. She seemed pleased at the distraction.
“Sorry I’m late.”
I looked up at my girl Kayla, who came bouncing over to my table, then glanced down at my watch. I had been signing books for over an hour. Rising from the chair, I gave her a big hug. “Missed you, girl.”
“Me, too.”
I lowered back into my seat while Kayla moved to the other end of the table and got readers to sign my guest book.
Kayla and I are also close. She just makes me so mad at times. She wears a size twenty-two and has low self-esteem. Because of it, she’s been fucking around with this no-good Baptist minister for years. No matter what we tell her, she won’t let him go. For some crazy reason, she believes he’s gonna leave his wife for her. I don’t understand it. Really, I don’t. That’s probably why she’s late. She had to go suck his dick. Ooh let me shut up.
Seriously, though, it pisses me off because Kayla is a beautiful woman. What? You didn’t expect me to say anything positive about Kayla? Well, yeah, it’s true. She is a gorgeous woman. High yellow with light gray eyes, long, thick hair, and fat. But shit, Lizzo is a big sistah, too, yet she is confident and beautiful inside and out. I just wish my girl felt that way about herself.
“Hello, ladies.”
I glanced up at the man standing over my table. Daaayum! My eyes traveled from Kayla to Danielle. “Who is that?”
Kayla nudged my shoulder and whispered, “That’s Jermaine.”
I looked up at Kayla. By the way she was cheesing, it was obvious she’d been holding out on her sistahs.
“Danielle, Renee, I’d like you to meet Jermaine. He’s one of our advisors at the medical school.”
He granted us a generous smile. “Hello, ladies. It’s so nice to finally meet you both. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Oooh! His voice and smile are sexy. If Kayla doesn’t want him, I definitely do. I offered him my hand. “Nice to meet you. Unfortunately, this is the first time I’ve heard about you.”
Danielle added her two cents. “Yes, and it’s a doggone shame. With yo’ fine ass.” She mumbled that last line under her breath just loud enough for me and Kayla to hear. Just as I thought, Kayla nudged her in the arm before moving to the side and signaling for Jermaine to follow. Danielle and I watched, then looked at each other and shook our heads. The man is sexy!
“You think she’s doing him?” I asked.
“Shit, no!” Danielle replied. “She’s too busy sniffing behind that minister to be interested in anyone else. But check that out. Look at how he’s looking at her.”
She was right. Jermaine was really feeling my girl. Too bad he didn’t have a chance in hell of getting her attention.
Danielle moved all up in my face. “Renee, don’t look now but here comes your Uncle Larry.”
Oh, hell nah. Sure enough, here he comes with his seventies Afro and beer belly, wearing blue jeans and a t-shirt two sizes too small.
“What’s happening, niecy!” He moved around the table and kissed my cheek. Good Lord! He’s reeking of malt liquor.
I glanced around to see if anyone noticed. Sure enough, anyone that didn’t have shit else to do was paying attention. I looked up at his raggedy-tooth smile and gave him one of my own. I love my family, really, I do. They’re just embarrassing as hell. Big Mama was the one who had held us all together and when she died, all hell broke loose. Family went crazy. Fighting over money. Grabbing everything they could. I hung around long enough to make sure Big Mama was buried properly, then I got the hell out of town while they tried to kill each other. The only sibling who wasn’t present was Bernice, my crackhead mother, who I haven’t seen in almost ten years.
I looked up at my uncle and remembered all the times he had taken me out for pizza when I was a kid and smiled. Fuck what everyone thinks. This is my family. “How have you been?”
I should have known he’d get straight to the point. “Tough. I got laid off at the plant and been trying to find another j-o-b.”
I pursed my lips and nodded because I knew what was about to come next.
“You think you can spot your uncle forty-five dollars? My electric bill is past due, and they won’t give me another extension,” he began as he scratched his stomach. “The payday loan folks won’t give me another loan until I pay off the first one.”
“No problem,” I mumbled, then turned to my right where Danielle was trying to keep a straight face. I signaled for her to hand me my purse from under the table. I don’t mind helping my family from time to time because I plan on just writing it off on my taxes as charity, anyway. Besides, it’s too hot for Uncle Larry to be without electricity. See, I really do have a soft spot after all.
“Thanks, niecy,” he said as I handed him a fifty- dollar bill.
“Don’t mention it.” And I meant that—otherwise all the rest of them freeloading mothafuckas will be trying to track me down. Uncle Larry thanked me, then excused himself so he could get down to the electric company before they closed. Knowing him, he was going to spend the change on beer and lottery tickets. “Play the Powerball for me!” I yelled.
I signed my book for another dedicated reader, shared a little small talk, then breathed a sigh of relief when she finally left. I love the people who support my career, really, I do. I appreciate them buying my books and standing in long lines to see me because without them there would be no me. It’s just that sometimes they never know when to say good-bye.
Danielle patted me lightly on the shoulder. “Girl, I think you’re gonna sell out this time.” I could hear the pride in her voice.
I looked down at the table and was quite pleased at how few books were left.
“Whassup, Caeramel!”
I spotted Nadine and her partner coming through the door. It’s been two years since she came out of the closet about her craving for pussy. I ain’t mad at her, because I say to each his own. However, I still can’t compare licking clits to sucking dicks.
“Hey, girl.” I looked at her short ass. Nadine has the biggest titties. Easily double D’s, and, as always, was dressed country as hell. But I love her just the same.
“You remember Jordan.”
I shifted my eyes over to the woman next to her and nodded my head. The last time I had seen her was at my sister’s funeral. Her girl ain’t a butch—you know, those manly looking women who walk around with a strap-on dick swinging between their legs and their breasts taped down? Nah, she was beautiful and very feminine.
“Hey, Renee—oops! I mean, Caeramel. I really enjoyed your last book," Jordan said.
I smiled, sucking that shit up. “Thank you.” I autographed a copy for the two of them, then stretched my arms over my head. “So, what’s been going on, Nadine? Still sticking it to the man?”
Nadine is an attorney. She handles divorces and custody battles. “Oh yeah, you’d be surprised how far people go to try and hide their assets.”
I snorted. “Nothing surprises me these days.” An elderly woman came up to the table. “Hello.” It’s amazing how many old folks still try to get their freak on. I signed two copies, one for her and one for her daughter, then reclined in the chair again.
Nadine leaned over the table and said, “We need to get together before you leave.”
The look in her eyes told me she wanted to talk about Lisa. I dropped my eyes to the table to keep the tears away. Nadine had been Lisa’s best friend. We were all close, although at times I pretend I can’t stand her ass. She is goofy as hell and gets on my nerves, but she really is a good person and I love her like a sister. Nevertheless, the last thing I wanted to do was sit and talk about Lisa. It was just too hard.
“I’ll call you,” I said.
She rolled her eyes as if she didn’t believe me. I guess that’s because I’ve been ignoring her phone calls for months. “Don’t worry. I’ll be calling you," she warned, then, hand in hand, she and Jordan walked back out into the mall.
By five, I was completely sold out. I sat around for a while and handed out covers for my next erotic tale while I started packing up my things to leave.
Danielle lowered into the seat beside me. “Are we going out tonight or what?”
“Count me in,” I heard Kayla say.
What? Danielle and I locked eyes, then looked over at Kayla. I can’t remember the last time she’d gone out with us. The good pastor would have a fit. “What’s Reverend Brown gonna say?” I teased.
Kayla dropped her eyes to the table. “We’re not together anymore.”
“Hell nah!”
“About damn time!” Danielle and I responded at the same time. “What the hell happened?” I asked, because inquiring minds wanted to know.
She looked up at the ceiling as if she was trying not to cry. “Let’s just say I know he’s never going to leave his wife.”
Ya think! I’ve been telling her that shit for over four years. Damn! I just can’t see being second-best to no one. Reverend Leroy Brown’s in the pulpit every Sunday and fornicating with vulnerable members of the congregation the rest of the week. I ain’t sharing nothing. By now, you’re probably thinking “this ho thinks she’s all that,” and true that, I do. I’d rather be stuck on myself than stuck on stupid.
