In My Sister's House (12 page)

“Have a good night yourself, Sid,” a smiling Mrs. Reed seductively whispered back at him while loosening the belt around her floor-length house robe just enough for it to conveniently open and reveal that she was nude. Closing the door behind him, Sidney couldn’t believe what just happened. Turning the downstairs light off, he rushed upstairs to the woman who would soon be his wife.

T
he noise from apartment 3A awakened Barbara Bowman from a sound sleep. Lying next to Jessie, her husband of thirty years, the sixty-seven-year-old woman lay quietly still, trying to decipher the noise. Sounds of furniture being turned over and heavy thumping dominated the air, and sudden vocal outbursts and screams could be heard. Sitting straight up in her bed, she reached for her glasses.

“Jessie, Jessie!” she called out in a whisper as she nudged him. “Wake up! Wake up!” Jessie stirred a little and moved over to the edge of the bed. Looking at him she wondered how this man could sleep with all of this going on: a repetitive banging followed by sounds of someone apparently being tortured. Grasping the collar of her nightgown, she grew more and more concerned that someone was in trouble in the apartment above her. Reaching for the lamp on her nightstand, she turned it on. Jessie was in a deep slumber and snoring even louder than before.

Barbara began dialing 911 when she heard a deafening crash. Putting the receiver on the bed she paused long enough to try to wake up Jessie again.

“Jessie, wake
UP!”
She began punching him on his side. After a few more stirs and grunts, Jessie half-opened his eyes and turned to her.

“Barbara, what the hell is wrong with you!?”

“Shut up! Listen—I believe somebody is being hurt upstairs in that boy’s apartment.”

“What goes on in that apartment ain’t none of our business, woman. Now I don’t want no trouble from that boy or anybody he knows, so lay your ass back down and go to sleep!” the irritated seventy-two-year-old said.

“You don’t think we should call the police?” she asked.

“No, I don’t think we should call anybody. Now go back to sleep! Damn!” He then lay back down, turning his back to her and yanking the covers around his neck. Reluctantly, a dissatisfied Barbara hung the phone up and cut off the light as she gingerly lay back down. After several moments of silence, she decided that Jessie was probably right. There wasn’t anyone in danger. But what was all that noise? Maybe that boy wasn’t home and somebody had broken into his place. She didn’t care that much for the street thug and wished he didn’t live above them, but she’d hate if a crime was being committed in his place and she did nothing about it. Suddenly, several loud screams of a woman, clearly in distress, filled the air.

“I knew it!” she said. Sitting up once again, she turned on the light and demanded that Jessie wake up. “See, I told you. Listen, Jessie. Listen!” she cried.

Jessie, fully awake by now, turned over to face her and listened intently. The screaming sounds continued, and then the thumping returned. Realizing that he now heard it himself, she pointed her finger at him and whispered, “Didn’t I tell you I heard something?”

“Shhh!”
he hushed her as his ears pricked up, straining to hear more. The sounds continued, and a frightened, wide-eyed Barbara covered her mouth in fear.

“Told you!” she whispered. “Somebody is getting beat up in there!”

Realizing what was going on, Jessie frowned at Barbara. “Barbara, ain’t nothing getting beat up but some girl’s
stuff.”

“What?”

“They making love, Barbara. The boy is just getting him a li’l late-night trim, that’s all.”

“You sound ridiculous, Jessie!” she spat out. “Don’t nobody sound like that when they making love!”

“Yeah they do, sweetie. You just don’t remember.” With that he started laughing. Annoyed, Barbara rolled her eyes at him before turning off the light and lying back down. Pulling the covers back to her side of the bed, she turned away from him and, without saying a word, closed her eyes. Jessie continued to chuckle as he moved closer to her and put his arm around her waist.

“Get away from me, man! And get dem cold-ass feet off me, Jessie!” she demanded. “And cut dem toenails of yours before I bleed to death.”

They both broke out into youthful laughter. She took his arm and returned it around her waist. “You ol’ fool. You make me sick!” she said, still laughing. “Go on to sleep!”

•  •  •

Exhausted from their marathon sexual escapade in apartment 3A, DuBoy and Storm collapsed onto the sweat-soaked mattress. Both out of breath and panting like they had just run a sixty-yard dash, they lay next to each other, staring up at the ceiling in a postclimax haze. After a few minutes, DuBoy said, “Dayum girl, that shit was sick fo’ sho. You a bad bitch, you know that?” he laughed.

“You didn’t do so bad yourself,” she told him as she reached over and grabbed a towel to dry herself off. “I just wanted you to get a little of what you’ve been missing for the last three years,” Storm playfully added.

“Well, you brought back a nigga’s memory with that shit. Damn! Whew!” he said, grabbing hold of the same towel. “And your body is sick girl. You ain’t lost nothing while you was on lock!” he stated. Knowing that he still desired her the way he did before brought a tear to Storm’s eyes. She had to admit she worried about that shit,
worried that DuBoy might have found another bitch to take her place. She knew he hadn’t just been sitting around waiting for her while he was out here, but her purpose was not only to claim what was rightfully hers when she got out, but to make his ass forget any bitch he might’ve laid with while she was gone.

“Shorti, I swear before God, ain’t nobody ever put it on me like that!” he assured her. “Hell, I’m scared to look around my crib at the shit we done caused in here.” They both laughed. “And the way you was screaming ma’—I’m surprised one of my neighbors didn’t call the fuckin’ cops. Especially that old nosy bitch downstairs. She ought to have that old man of hers touch her up every once in a while and she’d be aight.”

“Shut up! You weren’t that quiet either, you know,” Storm said, and laughed. “All those sounds wasn’t coming just from me.”

“Yo, I ain’t even gonna front. Man, you had me hollering like a li’l bitch!” DuBoy jumped up and sprinted across the floor toward the bathroom. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, Storm marveled at DuBoy’s muscular physique.
Body fat don’t have a home on this brotha’s body. Forget a six pack, he’s rocking an eight
.

Lying there in the quiet, Storm thought about what had gone on earlier at the club. She knew bringing DuBoy to Legends was going to fuck with Skylar, but that wasn’t really her intent. Sky didn’t like DuBoy and she didn’t need to. He was
her
man, not Sky’s. Besides, she didn’t like being told what to do, how to live, or who her friends should be. Just because she needed Skylar’s temporary assistance didn’t mean that her sister owned her.
Hell no. I’ve always been my own woman. And that is not going to change just because I’m on Skylar’s payroll
.

Besides, DuBoy was one of the few who readily talked to her while she was down, accepting collect calls weekly. Especially the last few months. He had even come up to see her once. So she owed him some special time. When she asked him to accompany her tonight, he reminded her that not only did her sister not like him, she had made it known that he was not welcome in her club.

“You are my guest, so you can go in with me!” Storm told him. She didn’t expect to encounter such a gracious Skylar. Her sister’s giving Storm the position of assistant house manager had come as a total shock. She thought that, if anything, she’d be offered a waitress or bar back job. She almost felt bad about her plan.

On his way back to the bed, DuBoy turned on the bedroom light. Immediately, Storm grabbed a pillow to shield her eyes from the light.

“Dayum! You see this shit?” he said to Storm, looking around at the mess they’d caused. Taking the pillow away from her face, Storm got a look at what he was talking about.

“Wow! Looks like a tsunami done hit this bitch!” she remarked, standing up to meet DuBoy in front of the bed.

“You know I love you, right?” he said softly, brushing the loose strands of hair away from her face as their naked bodies touched.

She nodded her head and grabbed hold of him like her very existence depended upon it. Tears softly trickled from her eyes, falling on the muscular slope of his chest.

“What up, Boo?” he asked as tenderly as he could. “You crying and shit.”

“I’ve just missed you so much, baby. I … I’ve been so lonely.” She buried her face under his neck.

“Yo, ain’t no need to be feeling like that. I ain’t going nowhere,” he assured her. “It’s just me and you, girl.” Wiping her tearstained face, Storm wanted to believe him, but she knew deep down how DuBoy could be.

He led her back over to the bed and she rested her head on his shoulder. Nestling under the covers, he faced her and began to tell her how much he had missed her. She wanted to believe him.

“Shorti, you still cool on what we talked about a while ago?” he asked, planting delicate kisses on her neck. Storm did not answer right away. This caused DuBoy to stop and lean back to get a good look at her.

“Is there somethin’ wrong? Yo, you ain’t flaking out on me, is you?” His voice became stern.

“No, no, baby, I’m not. But I just got home. I need to take this slow with Skylar, you know that. Me trying to convince her of some shit like what you’re talking about is not going to be easy,” she said in a calming voice.

“I knew it! I thought we was clear on this shit, Storm!” he said, raising his voice.

“We were!” She turned his face toward her. “Nothing has changed. I know the plan.”

“You sure ’bout that?” he said, arching his eyebrows.

“Yes, I just need some time to work on it. It’s only been a few days since I’ve been home, DuBoy. Can I get my life back first? Damn!” Storm was annoyed.

“I thought that’s what I was doing here, right now wit’ you, helping you get your life back!” He sat up on the side of the bed, reached over, and started to light a blunt. Not wanting him to be upset with her, Storm assured him that he
was
helping, but all she was asking for was a little time. With that she leaned over and started to gently massage his neck and shoulders. Every so often she’d stop and give him light kisses in the middle part of his back. Her actions seemed to calm him down. She even convinced him that he didn’t need a joint right then either.

“Yeah, well, you stressing my ass out, girl! You know me and Torch been working on this idea for some time now. He’s expecting me to come through with this shit!”

“Everything is going to be fine, Boo. Don’t worry.” Storm tried to sound convincing. “Neither one of us needs any stress, baby, you know that.” He allowed his head to fall back, but not before taking a drag off the blunt. He passed it to Storm but she declined. DuBoy knew that smoking weed wasn’t Storm’s thing. He started to laugh.

“I thought maybe you changed yo shit up a little by being in there, bay. You mean none of dem hos ain’t try and get you to wild out wit’ dem for a minute?”

Storm did not find this funny at all. “I don’t want to talk about Muncy. That shit is in my past,” Storm said as she lay back down, covering her body with the sheet.

DuBoy decided to join her. It was not long before they were in a sensual embrace and began another round of lovemaking. This time, they were careful, gentle lovers, taking time to enjoy every touch, kiss, caress, stroke, and embrace. Just as their bodies became one DuBoy asked, “Are you ready for all that we about to do?”

“Yes,” she said softly, pulling him closer.

L
ovely was dreading this call but she had to talk to someone. Someone that might understand what she was going through. Usually, she’d call her mother when she felt like this. But not this time. She couldn’t call her this time.

“Hello, yo dime, my time, make it quick!” The voice on the receiving end said.

“Nettie?” Lovely said softly.

“Yeah … Who is this?” Nettie responded with something of an attitude.

“Hi, it’s Lovely.”

“Lovely? Hey, girl, it didn’t sound like you. I could barely hear you. How are things? You feeling better?” Nettie asked.

“I’m coming along,” she lied. “Listen, I was wondering if you had some time in the next day or so. I’d like to come by and have a talk with you,” Lovely asked.

“Sure, sure … Hmm, how about tomorrow around three or four in the afternoon? You want to come by the club? Ain’t nobody gonna be there but—”

Lovely interrupted her. “No, if you don’t mind, could it be somewhere else?”

“Okay, okay,” Nettie said. “We could either meet at Miss Tootsie’s on South Street or Ginger’s Coffee House on Second and Walnut.” After deciding on Ginger’s at three-thirty, Nettie asked Lovely again if she was all right.

“I’m okay, Nettie, I just need some advice, that’s all,” Lovely assured her.

“Everything’s all right with my baby, ain’t it?” Nettie asked, referring to Lovely’s son. “Put him on the phone so I can holla at him for a minute.”

“Oh, I would, Nettie, but he’s in the bathtub right now,” Lovely lied.

“Okay, no worries. Maybe you’ll bring him by to see me soon.” Lovely said she would do just that. “Nettie, could you keep all this between us?”

“Sure, baby, my lips are sealed tighter than a casket!” They both giggled. Lovely asked how the other dancers were doing and who had taken her spot for the last few weeks.

“Well, Miss Princess finally done gave Gidget a chance to shine. You know, with your solo spots,” Nettie offered.

“I’m so happy about that. I know she was doing her thing.” Lovely was sincere about this.

“But I’m worried about you!” Nettie let her know. “And look, don’t worry about your job either. I don’t care how good li’l Paula Abdul is, your spot is here whenever you come back, you hear me?”

“I do, Nettie. And thanks again.” Just hearing Nettie’s comforting words let Lovely know she had done the right thing by calling her.