A Hot Mess (6 page)

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Authors: Edd McNair

BOOK: A Hot Mess
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“You all right?” Lady said. “I love you, Joy.”
“What you mean? Why you say that?”
“I don't know. I was up, getting ready for church, and God told me to call you, let you know you are loved, that I care, and He will always be there, and that's the only love you need in your life. Come to church with me, girl. Service start at eight thirty. Get dressed and come, bring your kids, wear whatever. This church is like that,” Lady said sincerely, not knowing why she was doing this.
“Yes, Lady. Yes. I'll come. Me and these kids are coming. Where?” Joy was crying, thinking about what had almost happened.
“What's wrong, Joy?”
“I promise I'll talk to you when I see ya.”
“Okay, we'll go to my house after the service. I'm cooking. The church is on Holland Road. City of Refuge.”
“See ya, Lady, and thanks. Leave your phone on in case I get lost, but I'm coming.”
Joy got her kids up, and they all got dressed and went to church. Once Joy entered, she felt something within the walls that couldn't be explained. As she sat next to Lady and praised, she talked to God until tears ran down her face like a fountain.
The bishop saw her face, looked over at Lady, as the church calmed and everyone sat. He started off by saying he had studied a sermon all week and had it ready for delivery, but today God brought something else to his heart. He began to speak on “Adultery and the Weakness of the Flesh.”
Joy felt as if he was talking directly to her the entire sermon, and every word cut her like the swords they had become.
And as the bishop opened up the doors of the church, Joy slowly moved her tortured body down the narrow aisle until she reached the pulpit.
The bishop came down and took both her hands and leaned closer. “Have you accepted God into your life, young lady?” he asked in a strong voice.
“No,” she said softly.
“Have you taken the time to ask for forgiveness?”
“I—I—I don't know how,” Joy said in a stutter.
“Look at me, sister. It's time,” he said, squeezing her hand. “It's time. It's time to grab God's hand. It's time to let go and let God, sister.”
Joy's body shook as the bishop held her hand.
“Now repeat after me,” he said. “Dear Heavenly Father, I come to you as humble as I know how, asking Your forgiveness. For I am repenting and asking You because only You can help me for all the sins that I've committed. And from this day forward, I will only be led by the light that shines in me through You.”
“Now from this day forward, sister, allowing God to be your guide, let the church be your strength, and I promise you will come out of whatever weighs you down. For we can do all things through Christ, who strengthens us.” Bishop stared into her eyes as he held her hand.
Joy stood tall, and the tears began to dry up. She felt strength in her body that she hadn't felt in a long time. She felt as if she had been born again and given a new life.
After church, she went over to Lady's house, where her kids played with Lady's kids.
Lady had five kids by five different men. Her life was wild at one time, but she changed it three years ago for the better and always, no matter what, gave the glory to God. She sat in the kitchen cooking and telling Joy how God had changed her life.
As they sipped wine, Joy had to talk to someone, and she opened up to Lady and told her everything. How she was living, fucking all the men, and laying with funny women.
When Joy was finished, Lady looked her in the eyes, took her hand, and told her, “Girl, you just told me the PG version of my life. You have no idea. But guess what? You are a new woman now, born again, and the first thing you gonna do is get that devil out your house. Tell all those guys you done with them and you got saved today. Stop being there for them to use, and stop fucking them. The ones that stick around for nothing will show you who's your friend. Now chill out, eat, be merry, and prepare yourself to clean house. Clean your house,” Lady said, smiling.
Joy went home that Sunday evening and had a long talk with Tamil. Joy gave her a week to get her shit straight and make a move, but later that night Tamil was gone.
“Thank you, Jesus,” Joy said loudly, shaking her head as she climbed under the covers, thinking about how she had made drastic changes that all worked for the better.
Over the next several months, she was only available to Don, Tommy, Bugg, and Omari for conversation. She kept herself close to Lady, her head into the Bible studying, never missing church or Bible study. Slowly but surely she moved away from the life that made her feel low and made sure she didn't let anyone in to break her spirits.
Everybody stopped calling her when she changed the conversation to God every time they brought up sex. All but Omari, who continued to call, always had conversation, and always asked for sex. Several months had passed, and the only man in her life was God.
Omari popped up one Friday evening at the door right after she had come in from a prayer meeting.
“What you want, boy?” Joy asked surprised and smiling. She had been going to church faithfully, just like work. The rest of her time was focused on her kids, so she left no time for nonsense. Happy to see him, she gave him the biggest hug, and he squeezed her back, holding her a little longer than expected.
“Damn, I forgot how cuddly your little short, fat ass was. Come here.” He smiled and grabbed her again. Then he stepped back and looked at her. “You look good as hell. For real, Joy, you look good,” he said, amazed.
“Thanks. Fat and all, huh!”
“Please. You been turning me on forever, and I love it. Now you gonna make a nigga go to church and get some of that pussy,” he said, laughing.
Joy laughed too. She knew out of all her old friends, he always kept shit one hundred. And that wasn't going to change. Omari was always himself.
“So what you doing here?”
“Got this Tyler Perry bootleg. Throw it in. Cook something, and I'm chilling for a little bit.” Omari sat down and grabbed her remote, making himself at home. “Hand me a glass,” he said, popping the top of his twenty-two-ounce Heineken.
She handed him the glass and walked to her room. She returned in her sweats and t-shirt to a room, filled with the sweet smell of Kush. She stopped in her tracks and stared at him.
“Fuck I suppose to do? Go outside? Come on, Joy.”
She shook her head and walked in the kitchen. She poured a glass of wine and began dinner.
As the night progressed and the movie ended, she found out that evening that no matter how much she read the Bible, went to church, and tried to put God first, the flesh was weak. And Omari became her weakness.
But this time, in her eyes and heart, it was different. She wasn't running a mile a minute, and her head wasn't in a whirlwind. For once in her life she felt in control, but she wanted Omari to herself. She wouldn't feel it was wrong if she felt he was her man.
“Where you trying to take this, Omari? Who you dealing with? Where your girl?”
“I have a friend, but we don't spend a lot of time. She work hard, and she on some real come-up shit. It's like she there, but she not. She got her own shit, but I stay at home. All my shit at my momma house,” he said, laughing.
Joy laughed along also.
“I know I feel good with you,” Omari said. “And I know I enjoy you, and I miss you. I don't fuck with that sex shit no more, and I haven't been on Tagged in a long time. It came to disgust me. I knew it was wrong, but I was on some other shit. Now, here is where I want to be.”
Looking in her eyes, Omari realized that's what she wanted to hear, and she melted into his arms. Right away, he began kissing, squeezing, and touching her in those spots he already knew would excite her, until she gladly gave in.
Afterwards he held her tight and fell asleep, and she smiled a different smile that night.
Over the next several weeks, Omari showed interest like never before. If he didn't stay overnight, they'd talk every day, and whenever her phone rang and she saw his number, a feeling of joy took over her body and she could do nothing but smile.
Joy never knew exactly what changed his outlook and why he began to cling to her as if she was his woman, but it made her feel good, and she devoured every bit of attention he had to give, and he gave it willingly.
As time progressed though, Joy began to outgrow Omari. She wanted more, for her kids, for herself. Whenever, she brought it up to him, he clearly let her know he was happy with their current situation, coming and going as he pleased, staying a couple nights a week.
Yes, he cared for her, and yes, he enjoyed her, and yes, her kids were not a problem to him. But moving out of his moms and in with her meant being a family, and the last thing he wanted was a ready-made family.
Even though they'd been together a second and she loved him in every way, Joy was starting to come at him strong, and that eventually slowed him down from coming around. She was bothered in the beginning because she'd gotten used to his company and his daily phone calls, but now she realized she had church and a good friend in Lady.
CHAPTER 6
Joy remembered when her phone rang Wednesday morning. They had talked till the late hours so the call wasn't unexpected.
“Hey, Joy, my friend left me a message last night while we were on the phone. He a longshoreman, and they having a party at the Longshoreman Hall Saturday. I want you to go with me and a couple other girls I know,” Lady said.
“Girl, I heard it ain't nothing but old-ass men in there.” Joy wondered why she wanted to go there. Then she thought about Lady's age. She was about thirty-eight, so maybe that was her bag.
“Joy, not old men, older mature men. I'm gonna show you how to come up. Get out from under the strain and keep doing what you doing,” Lady Swann said real calm. “Let you see where the Swann come from, girl.” She chuckled.
“I'm only twenty-eight, and those niggas ain't got shit I want.”
“Just flow with me. I want you to swing. Let's go shopping, and I got you Saturday morning, your hair on me. You gonna be the flyest bitch. Lord forgive me, but that's what it's gonna be,” Lady Swann said with a smirk. “Promise you, you'll enjoy yourself.”
“I'm with it. That, or sit in the house waiting on O.”
“That's your fix, girl. He gonna always be your friend, but you need security and to be shown that attention that only comes with a mature nigga on a mission.”
“Uugh! Huh! I'm gonna go to the mall and see what I see.”
“Naw, come by the shop this evening. I got something for ya. For real, come by, all right?”
“Gotcha. One!” Joy hung up.
 
Saturday came, and everybody met at Lady's house to get dressed and got their head right before going to the party. When Joy walked out of the room, the other girls were like, “Damn!”
“Lady, you did it again. Walk, girl,” Daria said, talking to Joy. Daria was one of the stylists in the Swann House Beauty Salon.
Joy strutted across the floor and looked at the other women and turned. She then turned to Lady and smiled.
“How you feel, baby girl?” Lady asked.
“Like a lady.” Joy smiled. “Thank you, Lady. Feel like a new me,” she added.
“Her hair is fizzed, girl. You are definitely a banger,” one of the other stylists said.
“Yeah, now I just need to lose forty to fifty pounds and I'll really be in there,” Joy said with a smirk.
“Girl, you gonna find out that men love a voluptuous bitch. It's just something about us,” Lady's sister said, squeezing her forty-GG's together. “I ain't been alone in years, and I got me a husband, so fuck these skinny bitches.”
They all laughed.
Part of Joy's depression and insecurity came from her being overweight. She knew back in the day, these cornball-ass niggas she'd allowed to enter into her world would have never got in, but life had thrown some shit in the game.
They all headed out the door, and Joy jumped in the truck with Lady.
When they arrived at the Longshoremen's Hall, Joy strolled in stepping hard in her open-toe canary yellow sandals with the three-inch heels that flowed perfectly with the strapless denim dress that buttoned down the front. She'd purposely left the bottom three buttons loose, exposing her thighs. And her back and shoulders were exposed, leaving onlookers wondering if her breasts and the rest of her body were as smooth.
They came in and found their seats at a table and pulled out their bottles. Joy had never been to a BYOB, but as they got into the night, she actually began to enjoy herself. She was eating up the attention that was coming her way by the gentlemen at the party, and dying off the older men dressed in colorful suits and shoes like they were pimping. Some even had the hats to match.
They laughed, joked, and drank. Some even threw in a dance or two. Everybody was dancing, while Joy sat at the table watching Lady work moves on her friend who invited her to the dance. She saw this guy who looked so familiar approaching their table, but she couldn't place the face, until he got right up on her.
“Alecia,” he asked, pointing, a big question mark on his face.
“Yeah.” she said smiling, knowing she knew this guy, but didn't remember from where.
“Praize, baby. You remember me?” He acted as if he was going to pop-lock, and they both burst out laughing.
“What's up? How are you?” Joy didn't run into or remember many people from school because she wasn't that social when she moved from NY. Soon after she'd met Minke, and it was all about him.
“I'm doing good. And you?”
She stood up and gave him a hug. He sat down for a few and caught up, exchanged numbers, and made his exit. She realized after he talked with her, he was out the door. No sooner than he left, she looked up, and Daria was sitting back down with two older gentlemen. Daria kept them both entertained as Joy looked on.
“So, who are you, miss? Over here like she ain't never been to a longshoreman dance. Like she don't know what it is, Ben,” the loud man yelled, giving his partner a high-five.
“Leave her alone, Finn. You might scare her. Is she scared, darling?” Ben asked Daria.
“Hell naw. She ain't scared. She chillin', getting her sexy on. Get her, Finn.” Daria smiled at Joy.
Joy looked back at her and laughed. All night long these older cats had been on it. She'd seen them move around, talk to women, get turned down, and before the girl could finish saying no, they turned to the next woman. For a sec, she wished Praize hadn't left. At least he had decent conversation.
“So what's your name, darling?” Finn yelled over the music.
Standing six foot one, drink in his hand, with his clean-shaven face, and looking in shape for the age his face read, he wasn't bad too Joy, but he looked too old, and he had a big round belly. “Alecia. And how are you? Finn, right?” she asked with a smile, determined to have a good time.
“Damn! You's a sexy woman,” Finn said, throwing both hands up and doing a dance.
“Thank you.”
“So how you living, young lady?” Finn asked as he sat down in the chair behind Joy.
“What you mean?” she asked, confused by the question.
“That's a one-‘n'-all question, baby—Do you got a man? Do you have a family? Do you work? How you surviving? Good, bad, getting by? Maybe I should have said, how you living?” Finn said seriously, in a lower tone, moving closer to Joy.
Joy thought his cologne was something she'd smelled before on her momma's friends.
She looked at Finn. “No, I'm single, just friends, got two kids, and I'm surviving with the help of God, the only real man in my life. And you?” Her direct response and eye contact made her come off strong.
“Well, I'm married for thirty years. Done raised three young'uns, and now I enjoy life in every way. I need a young thing like you in my life,” he said, looking her up and down. I'm sixty-five. Don't got time for the games, but I like ya.”
“You a longshoreman?”
“No, I'm into real estate,” he said, handing her his card. “I used to be a longshoreman.”
“Call me tomorrow. Promise you will, if nothing else.”
“I will,” she responded, figuring he was a nice old man.
By this time, Lady came back to the table with three men on her. Lady wore a black catsuit, with one arm and shoulder exposed. Her strapless bra did a lot for her breasts—she didn't have much—but they sat as if they were just about to pop out, but never did, but her large nipples that stayed hard, and showed, had those men drooling.
Finn and Ben said their good-byes, while everyone else took seats.
“This is Vince, Lopez, and Wendell,” Lady said, introducing them to Daria and Joy.
“Hello.” Joy spoke to all, but admired the youngest of the three.
Lopez shook her hand. He reminded her of the Puerto Rican kids she'd grown up with in New York. He was real light, almost white, but his accent let you know.
They began talking, until her phone began to ring. It was Omari. Joy really wanted to see him, but she was having fun meeting new people, getting numbers, and her mind was free.
“What up?” she answered.
“Where you at?”
“Told you I was coming to a party tonight,” she said.
“I know. I'm outside. Come on, it's after one.”
“I'm riding with Lady. I'll meet—”
“No, I'll take you to your car. Come on now. I want to see you. Now! I'm out front,” he said and hung up.
Joy looked at Lopez. For some reason she was attracted to this guy. He was cool, laid-back.
“Yo, Lady, I'm out. My ride's out front. I'm gonna call you later.” She stood and hugged her. “It was nice meeting you all, and I'm sure I'll see you again,” she said, stepping off.
Lopez was right behind her, on her heels. “Excuse me, but can I get your number? I see you in a hurry to leave, but there's some things I'd like to discuss with you.” He smiled.
“And what's that, Mr. Lopez?”
“Me and you,” he said, staring back into her eyes.
“Two, nine, seven . . .” she said and eased out the door.
Sitting right in front, where she couldn't miss him, was Omari. He glimpsed at her and did a double take, locking his eyes on her every move as she strutted to his car.
“What up, baby?” she asked, getting in the car.
He just stared at her and smiled, not saying anything.
“You acting crazy, boy. Come on and go.”
Omari pulled off, shaking his head. Joy didn't know what he was thinking.
“What's with all this here?” he finally asked, waving his hand up and down at her, from head to toe.
“I just wanted to put myself together a little more.”
“What you mean? You cute as shit. You don't need all that. Where that come from?”
“I don't know. Lady hooked it up. She said I would feel better, and I do. You don't like it?” she asked, disappointed.
“Just curious about when you started revealing all that skin and wearing all that shit. That's not you,” he said, pulling up to her car. “I'm following you.”
She got out the car and stumbled.
“You that fucked up? You a alcoholic now too?” he said as she shut the door. He began laughing.
As she drove home, her phone rang. It was Lopez wanting to know if he could come by. She actually wanted to talk with him, so she didn't say no. She told him she would give him a call when she got settled.
When she arrived, she found her kids knocked out and the sitter half 'sleep. She paid her and watched her walk across to the next building.
“Get us a beer,” Omari said as he walked into her room and sat on the bed. He heard her locking up and getting beers as he rolled a Backwood.
“Damn!” she yelled as she handed him the beer. “That shit smell good as hell. What is it?”
“Kush. Ain't but the truth,” he said between pulls. He handed it to her, knowing she had stopped.
“I'm good.”
“Naw, we smoking, celebrating all this new sexiness,” he said, pulling her to him and pushing the Kush in her hand.
She stood smoking in front of him as he began to unbutton her dress. It opened and fell to the floor. He couldn't do nothing but stare.
She began to cover her big stomach with her hands and arms. “You know I don't want nobody to see all this,” she said conscious of her body, mainly her belly that lapped over the thong that you could barely see.
He took the Back and hit it, reached over and grabbed the remote and turned to the hip-hop station. Then he reached out and pushed her hands and arms away from her stomach.
“Step back and turn around,” he said, and she did. He looked at her rolls on her side, but he also caught the flawless caramel skin that made him want to lick her plus-size body. He wanted his tongue to follow the thong in the crack of her ass.
“Look at me. Turn around.”
She did.
He stared into her eyes, which had been lined with dark eyeliner, making them appear chinky. Her extended eyelashes made him feel as if her eyes were caressing him, and her smooth skin that rose on her cheekbones every time she blushed and the lips that covered her beautiful white teeth made him want to throw his tongue in her mouth.
“Move. Dance. Just move to the music,” he said standing up reaching out for her, as she came close, dancing to the music.
He put both his hands on the outside of her breasts and pushed them together. As they rose up in the strapless canary yellow bra, he could feel his manhood rise then stiffen in his True Religion jeans. He reached behind her, undid her bra, and brought each end around to the front. Omari watched those 42DD's slide out of their secure sling and rest on her stomach. He took his hands and grabbed one, throwing one of her nipples into his mouth and licking and sucking vigorously.

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