A Hot Mess (9 page)

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Authors: Edd McNair

BOOK: A Hot Mess
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Now she was calling him to help her get a car. But her license and credit weren't good, so she was gonna have to get it in Omari's name. To her surprise, Omari gave her $1,500 down. Mike took it to a couple finance companies he worked hand in hand with and got it done, and they drove off with a new Impala.
The $1,500 rekindled what she felt for Omari, and for another year, she put up with him and the shit that came with it. But when her lease was up and she wanted to move, Omari was doing bad, and she needed some help.
Joy eventually found a place, a three-bedroom town house, in a section of VA Beach called Lake Edward. She could handle the $800 monthly rent, but she didn't have $1,600 to get in the place. She had two weeks to move out of her place, and her back was against the wall. She did everything she could to get the money, but nothing, and nobody, came through.
She tried to force Omari, giving him an ultimatum, making her home as uncomfortable as possible. She stopped cooking, packed up all the dishes, stopped fucking him, and even had other niggas calling the house.
Omari was furious. He had nothing to give, so he began staying back at his moms more, but never gave up on Joy.
Joy stayed on her grind, but she couldn't find this money nowhere. She swore she would never be without again. Not wanting to go to her moms, she went to her last resort, Brooklyn Cuts.
CHAPTER 8
Minke had turned most of his drug money into legitimate businesses, opening up a barber shop, rim shop, and a restaurant. But he couldn't stay out the streets. They had him. They were who he was married to.
Joy had gotten right this day, making sure that when Minke saw her, he would definitely want some pussy. As she got closer to the shop, her stomach kept churning. She hadn't seen him since he shitted on her, and she hadn't talked to him, but through the grapevine, she'd heard what he was up to. She even knew in the last six years, he'd been locked up for two, but came home and got his shit back. He had caught his charge in VA and was sent up to Indian Creek. She thought he was gonna try to reach out to her then and she could get the chance to shit on him and pay him back, but he never did.
She walked inside Brooklyn Cuts, wearing a white flowing skirt, navy blue open-toe sandals with three-inch heels, and a navy blue shirt with the top buttons open, showing her forty-two-DD's being held by the navy blue bra. Lady had weaved her head up so that the wrap was super tight as it came around and rested on her chest.
Every barber's mouth dropped at the big girl coming in, even Sizemo, who was cutting in the first chair. When he realized it was Joy, he stopped staring, and they hugged each other.
Sizemo was Minke's man, running all his shit while he was away and out of town. He was with Minke and Hitler the day they'd met her, Malaina, and Queen.
He stared at her up and down again, and then at her breasts. They looked as if they were trying to get at him. “Gotdamn, girl! Got me ready to snatch you up,” he joked.
He knew she would always be Minke's girl, but if she let him, he would fuck her. She was always like that to him since the first day he saw her, and now that extra weight meant nothing. After twelve years, who hadn't gotten bigger? He was a 200 solid beast when she last saw him, now he was pushing 350, mostly fat.
“Where my baby daddy at, boy? You crazy.”
“In New York,” he said.
“Well, I need you to get him a message for me. Can you do that?”
“Yeah. Fuck you been up to? Don't act like we strangers, girl. We done hung. You used to stop by and holla, even when you and Minke was together. He ain't never mind you coming by, smoking and hanging with the god. Don't get new!” Sizemo smirked.
“I know. You know we always been cool, Sizemo. You know I been through it.”
“All right, all right. What you doing later?” he asked, not wanting her to get started on personal shit in the shop. “Well, hold tight. I'll be finished in a few. We can put one in the air and catch up.”
“Sounds good. Hope you gonna feed me,” she said seriously. “Shit! Ain't nothing change.”
“Give me a second,” he said smiling and shaking his head.
When Sizemo finished his last appointment, him and Joy jumped in his Tahoe and headed to Applebee's. As soon as they got in the truck, the sounds began to blast, and he lit the Dutch that sat in the ashtray.
“Ain't nothing change, baby, but the weight.” Sizemo passed her the slow-burning Dutch.
“I see, nigga. You know I know how you do.” She laughed. “I also know you better not make me fuck a bitch up for rolling in the street with ya. Know you still running hoes.” She laughed as she passed the Dutch back.
“Naw, ain't shit change, but now I want my own bitch. Got to have my own,” he said.
“So whatever happened to Pat? That was yo' bitch. You two muthafuckas used to go at it.”
“You ain't lying. She was one of the good ones, but you know, I felt I made a better choice when I met Rhonda. And I did. Then I felt I did better when I met Carmen. And I did. Then came Lelani, and she was the fucking bomb. But ain't none of them hoes make me marry 'em. So then came Kamrin. Kam-Kam. That's my baby. She at work right now. RN. Bitch really got it going on, so I'm moving slow right now,” he said seriously.
“Shit, yo big ass ain't got no choice but to move slow.”
“Look who talking. When you walked in the shop, I was like,
Damn! Who's this wobbling in here with those big-ass titties?
” Sizemo laughed as he parked.
“Shit! Nigga, I was like,
Who this fat dike-bitch with big-ass titties?
Then I said,
Oh God, that's Sizemo.
Nigga, you need a bra.” Joy laughed.
“Fuck you, girl! But yo' ass right. I should've been back in the gym. This shit is pathetic,” he said, grabbing his stomach and chest. “And now both our big asses going in here and get bigger.”
Sizemo and Joy bust out laughing together.
She closed the door. “Niggas still on the cute face and begging to touch the girls.”
“And bitches still giving me pussy and fighting over this dick, so I'm all right.”
“Picture yo big ass fucking. All them hoes see is money. The cool fat guy in the Jordans, Rocawear gear, New York fitted, pushing the nice truck, and they see money.” Joy smirked.
“All they better see is this dick, because that's all a nigga giving away,” he said, smiling as they sat down.
“You right. You ain't change.”
“Never will, my nigga, never will. Let's sit at the bar. Double Patrón!” he yelled as he sat down. “What you want, Joy?”
“Same thing, nigga. If I'm hanging, I'm chilling.”
“That's what it is. Know what? When we leave here, I got to go to MacArthur Mall. I got to get my shorty a birthday gift. You with me?”
“Hell, yeah! I ain't got shit to do today.” Joy was feeling good about hanging out and having a nice time with a real friend.
“So what's the deal with you? What you been up to, Joy? Where you been? And what made you come up in yo' husband shop?”
“That nigga ain't my husband. He's my kids' father. My baby daddy,” she said with a smirk. “But I need him now. I ain't came at him in years, but my back against the wall,” she said, staring out in space.
“Well, what's the word you want me to get to him?”
“I ain't one of his bitches, trying to hunt this nigga down because he won't return my call. I was his wife, I had his kids. This muthafucka decided to just shit on me and his kids one day and left me fucked up. I made it through, and made sure these kids kept food in they mouth and a roof over their head, but I need some help. My lease up, and I need some dough to make this next move.”
Sizemo smiled. “And you say all that to say?”
“Call that nigga up. You got that direct line Size. Don't play. Hit him now,” Joy said seriously.
Sizemo pulled out his phone and dialed Minke, who answered on the second ring.
“What it do, my dude?”
“You know . . . what I hit you about, it's good?” Sizemo asked.
“Yeah, yeah, perfect timing. Put her on,” Minke said, his stomach feeling funny.
“Here ya go.” Sizemo handed Joy the phone.
“Hello.” Joy's stomach was churning too. She didn't know why she was feeling funny about talking to him, and her voice had a slight crack in it.
“What's up, mommy? How you doing today?”
“I'm doing good today. And you, Minke?”
“Okay now,” he said softly. “I went through it for a sec, but getting back on my feet.”
“You back, nigga, and running.”
“You crazy, Lecia,” he said in a soft Northern tone.
Nobody called her Lecia but him. Her whole world became a daze, as she listened.
“What I'm trying to figure out, what the fuck going on in your life that would make you come look for me?”
“Well, I got a two-bedroom off Little Creek. Your son is too big to be sharing a room with his sister,” she said, stepping away from the bar and going outside. “Excuse me, I had to walk outside. Don't need everybody in my business.”
“You got business now?” he asked, laughing.
“You made me get some business. Or fucking drown!”
“Why you cussin', Lecia? See, you getting fucking mad. Then that attitude shit come out, and—”
“And what? What, Minke? You left me fucked up, and I ain't supposed to have no attitude? Tell me this, muthafucka!”
And for twenty minutes straight, it seemed, without taking a breath, she went through all his wrong, her shelter life, her moms' house, and her struggles with two kids. She was breathing hard, ready to cry.
“And all that ended in divorce. You said it, I heard it, and maybe I deserve that. But that's the last time I want to hear it. And let that be the last time you ever disrespect me by calling me out my name.”
“Fuck you, Minke! You ain't shit,” Joy said, forgetting everything. “You can't do shit else to hurt me. You can't—”
“Hey!” he yelled. “You got me fucked up, bitch! I will come down there and beat yo muthafuckin' ass! Wife or not, try me, Lecia! Test me!” he said loudly.
They shared a moment of silence.
“You ain't gonna put yo hands on me,” she said softly.
He mocked her. “
You ain't gonna put yo hands on me
. Shut your country ass up! What's up? What you need?” he asked directly.
“I need to move by the first, and I need two thousand dollars.”
“Where you moving to?”
“Lake Edward. Town house, three-bedroom on East Hastings. It's eight fifty a month, but I got to pay water, get shit on, you know.”
“When you gonna give me my money back?” he asked, holding in his laugh.
“Minke, please. You owe—” was all she got out.
“Fuckin' wit' cha! Check this. I'll pay the security deposit and three months rent . . . if you got me. I need a spot to crash for a second.”
“Yeah, Minke,” she said, knowing he ain't need her place, but just wanted to control some shit.
Niggas pay like they weight
, she thought.
That's how they roll in his world
.
“Call me on your phone.” And he gave her his number.
She did it, and now they were on her phone.
“Lock me in. I'm gonna hit you later and let you know when I'll be in town.”
“Okay,” she said softly.
“Love ya, Lecia,” he said softly.
Joy smiled. “Yeah, right.” She walked back inside to see Sizemo eating, and her food sitting there. “Here's your phone. Thank you,” she said, smiling.
“You better not had got the number off my phone.”
“He gave it to me.”
“Oh! Shit, don't y'all call me when he come in town and y'all wilding out. I had enough of that shit.”
“Nobody argued more than Queen and Hitler. That's who you had to keep from killing each other.” Joy laughed.
“Literally from killing each other, and in the end, they killed each other.” Sizemo laughed, but Joy didn't.
They finished eating, and they talked all the way to the mall, where Joy helped Sizemo pick out a Coach bag and shoes for Kamrin, his new love.
The day went fast.
Sizemo took her back to get her car and told her to come by and hit another Dutch. She did, and also got a chance to meet Kamrin. It was a day she enjoyed. She hadn't had a day like that in a while.
Joy went home envying the way Sizemo talked about his love for the woman in his life. Minke was the only man to ever love her like that. She hadn't seen love like that since him. It actually made her anxious. She couldn't wait to see him. She fell asleep trying to think of every reason she should hate him, but she couldn't. And she didn't know why. She fell asleep that night with Minke on her mind, and tears in her heart.
The next morning Joy woke to the ringing of her phone. It was Omari. She knew it was an argument on the other end, so she ignored him. She got up and jumped in the shower then came out to get dressed. She saw she'd missed several calls. When it rang again, she picked up.
“Hello,” she said. “I'm trying to get dressed, boy. What's up?”
“Fuck you mean, what's up?” he yelled. “Don't gaff me off! I saw you with that nigga yesterday! You driving niggas around in my shit!”
“Fuck you, Omari! It ain't yo business what the fuck I do. And, nigga, you ain't made not one payment on shit. Get the fuck outta here!”
“Well, I made it my business, and you won't be riding and fucking the next nigga in my shit, bitch!” he said and hung up.
Joy called him back, but he didn't answer. After several attempts, he picked up.
“What?”

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