Heard It All Before (10 page)

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Authors: Michele Grant

BOOK: Heard It All Before
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She caught me by surprise by sliding out from under me. When I turned to reach for her, she climbed on top of me. I laid back and smirked up at her as she got comfortable straddling my hips. “Greggy, I'm
really
sorry for most of the things I said.” She didn't sound too sorry as she slipped out of her robe, wearing nothing underneath. She leaned forward. “Let me see if my insecure, scheming ass can think up a way to apologize.”
“Yeah, why don't we apologize each other to death.” I grinned; she grinned back. For now, we were on the same wavelength for once.
Renee—Sunday, June 28, 2:30 p.m.
These once-a-month Sunday brunches were my idea, so I had to show up. Truthfully, I was thinking about Gregory over at his house packing up his stuff. I needed to be at home making closet space. I was thinking I needed to call my mom and tell her Greg's moving in. I was thinking I didn't wanna be here. But it was my idea. All six of us, a whole
Waiting to Exhale
sisters' circle thing. I looked around the table and wondered how we've all remained friends.
I knew Keisha from the hood days; Jewel knew Stacie from prep school. Jewel, Roni Mae, and I met Tammy at orientation at UT. Somehow, we're all still hanging in there. Maybe it's because we're all so different. I liked to think we complement each other.
I was the planner, the schemer, the let's-get-organized-and-do-this person. Stacie was the wide-eyed innocent, even now at twenty-nine. She had had a horrible family life and had been through three absolutely disastrous relationships. This time, she was engaged to be married (to a white boy; Jewel says she thought Stace just gave up on black men altogether). Somehow through all this, the rose-colored glasses never fell off her face.
Keisha's rose-colored glasses self-destructed years ago. She was the hard-edged cynic, but every once in a while, the hard shell cracked and you could see that she was a really sweet, sensitive girl inside. Jewel, God bless her, was the middle-of-the-road, practical, stable, feet-on-the-ground mediator. The one you counted on, dependable and reliable in crisis situations. Jewel was the voice of reason, the one who saw solutions when no one else did; she could also diffuse a volatile situation by injecting a sneaky sense of humor you didn't expect from her.
Roni Mae was the flaky artist. She bent with the wind, changed personality with the weather. The only thing you could be sure of with Roni Mae was that she would always be there in your corner, no matter what. Tammy, well, she had a heart of gold, but she was a flat-out ho. I knew it sounded harsh, but she would tell you herself: her favorite pastime was “getting some.”
Take, for instance, this one time, about four years ago, back when we were all into the club scene. It was a girls' night out, and the six of us went over to the Safari Bar. Aptly named, the place was a zoo. Anyway, Tammy spied a little cutie up at the bar and sidled over. She sat down next to him and said, “Listen, I just want you to know that I think you're sexy. I'd like you to come home with me.” When he had the nerve to look hesitant, she told him, “Look, I don't want you to love me; I just wanna get laid.” At that, she left with him. Shocking, okay, but the worst thing was, it had been her turn to drive. We were stranded at the Safari Bar. Classic Tammy.
I looked over at her; she was starting a story.
“So I had this dream.”
We all groaned. Her dreams were always weird and generally X-rated.
“I was at this carnival riding along on this white horse.”
“Tammy, stop!” Jewel begged.
“What? I wanna hear it!” Stacie said with a sip of her champagne cocktail.
Tammy grinned. “And up comes Emmitt Smith on a big black horse,” she said, naming a former star football player for the Dallas Cowboys.
I had to laugh. “Imagine that. Up rides a Cowboy on a horse.” Roni Mae and I exchanged a look.
“Anyway, he rides up and we're laughing and talking about horse stuff when all of a sudden, we're on the same horse.”
“You don't know anything about horses! Or football!” Roni Mae looked disgusted.
“You two are on the big black one, of course,” Keisha interjected.
“Of course. We turned away from the carnival and start riding into the night. Then as the horse starts to gallop, our clothes melt away—”
“No shit? In one of your dreams, you get naked with a man?” Jewel interrupted to tease.
“Naked with an extremely rich man,” Roni Mae added.
“The only kind to get naked with. Y'all want her to tell the next part or not?” Keisha lectured.
“Not! Was there a tunnel you had to go through?” I asked laughingly. “A humid pink one?”
“No, but he
was
carrying a small box that kept opening and closing.” Tammy grinned. “Anyway, so there we were, naked on the horse and—”
Stacie interrupted, looking very confused. “What in the world could you do naked on a horse?” We all died laughing, and her mouth fell open. “No way! On a horse?”
Tammy shrugged. “Why not?”
“Have you ever done it on a horse?” Stacie asked the table at large.
“Why the hell would I be on a horse?” Keisha asked while the rest of us shook our heads.
“What's the wildest place you ever did it?” Tammy asked us, a mischievous grin on her face. We waited while the waiter placed our food in front of us.
“The radio broadcast booth,” Roni Mae announced, and I looked over at her in surprise. She had changed a lot over the past few weeks. The weave was gone, and her hair was styled in a short, flattering cut. The colored lenses were gone, and her nails, while still acrylic, were natural length and painted a natural shell pink. She looked like she had lost weight, and her outfit was solid cotton separates, no rainbows or kaleidoscopes. I made a mental note to call and ask how things were with her and Mr. Paris.
“You did it in the booth?” I asked her. “Were you on the air at the time?”
“Yep.” Her expression said that she'd relayed all she planned to reveal.
“Isn't that against somebody's regulations?” Tammy asked.
“FCC,” she replied, “and what they don't know won't hurt 'em.”
“Unfortunately, you all know about my fling at the Laundromat,” I said. They all nodded solemnly, remembering the time they walked in and caught me getting busy on top of the Kenmore. When they said those washers were heavy-duty, they meant it.
“I once did it in the bathroom at Jack-in-the-Box,” Stacie confessed.
“Men's or women's?” Tammy asked.
Stacie giggled. “Women's, of course.”
“You?” Jewel laughed. “I can't believe it.”
“Well,” Stacie parried, “I'm not going to tell about you and you know who at Memorial Stadium at UT during halftime of the Baylor game in the locker room!”
Jewel shot her a look. “Yeah, thanks for keeping that to yourself.”
“Wait a minute, how did I miss that one?” I asked Jewel, trying to remember who that could have been. Just couldn't picture Jewel letting it all out in public like that.
“Had to be Richie, the Boy Wonder,” Roni Mae volunteered helpfully.
“Yeah! The Boy Wonder!” I laughed as Jewel scowled at all of us. We had secretly nicknamed Richie the Boy Wonder for his amazing sexual prowess. He was a football player, notorious hound, and pretty damn near irresistible ... or so he kept telling us. Jewel called him her “freshman folly.” After her, he managed to work his way through a good chunk of the female coeds before flunking out his second year.
“I guess my li'l time in the back of a police car is nuthin',” Keisha piped up.
“Hold up, I wouldn't say that!” I asked her. “Were you under arrest at the time?”
“Yeah.”
We all stared.
“No way!” Roni Mae said.
“What about the guy—was he under arrest too?” Jewel asked, as if she couldn't stop herself.
“Nah, he was the arrestin' officer.” Keisha smirked.
“Did he read you your rights before, during, or after?” Tammy asked, and we all laughed.
“Can you imagine?” Stacie laughed.
Jewel chimed in, “Yeah. You have the right to raise your hips. And he thrusts.” She was laughing so hard, she had to wipe tears from her eyes.
“You have, thrust-thrust, the right to bite my neck.” I cracked up.
“And pow! You have the right to yell my name, baby,” Tammy crooned.
“You have the right to birth control.” Roni Mae giggled.
Keisha finished, “In the event that you do not have birth control ...”
We all completed the sentence: “... some will be provided for you!”
It took us a minute to compose ourselves. I shook my head and spoke up again, “Well, so far, if this was a contest, I'd have to say Keisha wins. Of course, we haven't heard from the Nympho Queen over here.”
Tammy smiled. “The wildest place? I'd have to say in church.”
“Church?” we all shrieked at once.
Jewel put a hand out. “Now, I mean it, Tammy. I don't wanna hear another word, not a single detail! To think I could've sat on the pew where you ... No! I don't wanna know.” She looked over at Stacie threateningly. “And neither do you!”
“Okay, okay! But speaking of church, I saw you with your man today, Miss Renee.” Tammy segued into that neatly.
I looked up from my plate to find all eyes on me. “Yeah, that was Gregory.” I smirked. Let 'em wheedle the information outta me.
“Nice-looking guy,” Tammy probed.
“Yeah,” I agreed with a smile before shooting her a look. “Hands off!” Tammy would try to take your man, if only for a night. Unapologetically a man stealer. I sometimes think she needs professional help. Beyond that warning, I said nothing else and sat eating quietly.
Keisha gave in first. “So, what's the scoop? Two days ago, you were calling everybody up talking about how it's over and now ya paradin' him into the Lawd's house like he's the hottest thing since Taye Diggs.”
I laughed. Keisha always had a colorful way of putting things. “You could say we came to an agreement.”
Jewel leaned forward and raised a brow.
“Well, what? What!” Roni Mae gave in first.
“He's moving in.”
“He's what?” Tammy cried.
“Did ya tell yo mama yet?” Keisha asked.
“Good for you, girl,” Roni Mae cheered.
“Why don't you just marry him?” Stacie asked.
Ignoring them all, I looked at Jewel. A slow smile spread across her face, and she nodded her head up and down. “You know I ain't one for the shacking, but if it's cool for you, it's cool for me. High five, sister. You're rolling now,” she whispered.
We slapped palms. “You ain't doing too bad either, homegirl.”
“Yeah, what up with you and the Roman god?” Keisha asked in her typically brash way. “I never thought I'd see the day when you messing around anything this close to thug life! And old boy got a kid too! And I done met that Jaquenetta he used to be married to! Girl, he may be fine, but with all that baggage, he's trouble. And I'll tell ya another thing—he's got a sweet old house he fixed up over in the Cliff, girl. Southside boy, girl. Almost his whole family lives over there. You moving south? I can't see it; no, I can't see it at all.” I wanted to reach over and smack her. She would have to point out all the negatives.
“What I wanna know is, when ya bringin' him round?” Tammy asked. “Is he fine or what?”
“Hands off him too,” I told Tammy.
Stacie chimed in, “He's not from North Dallas? Jew-Ro, are you dating thug nation? Hood rat, round-the-way boy? How exciting! Does he have any money?”
“He's not hardly thug nation,” Roni Mae chimed in. “Y'all back up off the sister.”
Jewel shot them all one of her don't-mess-with-me looks before ignoring them all. She kept right on eating. I sure wasn't going to be the one to volunteer any information.
“Where these guys been hidin'? I been looking for a decent guy for years, and y'all swing by the rec center and snap some up in a day!” Keisha added.
Roni Mae's voice filled the heavy silence. “Get off the girl's back. Rome is a nice guy.” She turned to Jewel and asked quietly, “So, how are y'all getting along? Solve that communication thing?”
“We cool,” Jewel answered serenely, her tone brooking no further discussion. An absolutely classic Jewel answer: responded to the question but gave up no info or insight. Hated her business in the streets, never made a scene, rarely volunteered the scoop.

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