Material Girl (8 page)
Authors: Keisha Ervin
“Just a few more minutes, Ma,” Dylan replied, already feeling a headache coming on.
“Well shit, State, put the pedal to the metal. My stomach startin’ to growl, and Lord knows if I don’t get something in there soon some shit gon’ start coming outta me that might fuck up ya appetite.”
“And nobody wants that.” State chuckled.
“I don’t know why you think she’s so funny,” Dylan whispered. “Her behavior is embarrassing.”
“Be easy.” He caressed the side of her face with the back of his hand. “I think she’s cute.”
“In what way?” Dylan screwed up her face.
“What y’all up there talkin’ about?” Candy yelled.
“The weather,” Dylan threw over her shoulder, wound up.
“State, this car of yours sho’ is nice. Yeah, buddy.” Candy traced her index finger across the plush leather seats of his Mercedes Benz G500. “You ridin’ like a big shot! You know I used to date a niggah that drove one of these.”
“Look, we’re here,” Dylan announced, relieved.
Once the car was parked, they all got out and headed to the door. A twinge of nervousness ate away at the lining of her stomach as she rang the doorbell. Things could either go extremely well or horribly wrong. She silently prayed that the night would be something she’d never forget.
“They’re here,” Billie shouted over her shoulder as she opened the door. “Hey, sweetie.” She air-kissed Dylan’s cheek.
“Hey, girl.” Dylan air-kissed her back.
“Y’all come on in.” Billie ushered them inside.
“Now, this is nice.” Candy glanced around in awe. “Simple and straight to the point. Dylan, you need to take decorating advice from Billie.”
“I like my own style just fine.” Dylan groaned, taking off her jacket.
“How you doing, State?” Billie spoke coldly, still wary of him.
“I’m good. You?”
“Fine. I’m glad you came. We’re going to have a good time. Let me introduce you to a few people.” She escorted him into the living area. “These are my girls, Kenzie and Kaylee.”
“Wassup?” State smiled.
“Hiiiiiiiiiii.” The girls spoke in unison, with huge grins on their faces.
“I’m sure you remember Tee-Tee,” Billie said.
“Wassup, man?” State gave him a handshake.
“You don’t want to know.” Tee-Tee took a quick look down at his crotch then back at State.
“Yo’, you trippin’.” State quickly took his hand away.
“I’m sorry about that,” Billie apologized. “He ain’t got not one bit of home training.”
“Girl, boo.” Tee-Tee clicked his tongue and waved her off. “State, this is my part-time lover, Death Row, but you can call him Bernard.”
“Wassup wit’ you?” State extended his hand.
“Not a damn thing.” Death Row tooted up his nose and wrapped his arms around Tee-Tee.
“Bernard, you so crazy.” Tee-Tee kissed him on the lips then turned his attention back to State. “Don’t mind him none. He just don’t want nobody else to get at me.”
“Don’t nobody else want you.” Dylan shot him a look.
“Miss Candy!” The twins rushed over to her.
“Hey, sugar mamas! I missed y’all.” Candy bent down and wrapped them up in her arms.
“We missed you too,” Kaylee said.
“Miss Candy.” Kenzie tapped her on the shoulder.
“Yes, sugar?”
“Did you bring us a present like you did the last time?”
“I sure did.” Candy unzipped her purse. “But first tell me . . . where do you wanna work when you grow up?”
Without missing a beat, the girls screamed, “Hooters!”
“That’s what I’m talking about!’ Candy cheesed, pulling out two matching Hooters tank tops.
“Whew-whew-whew-whew!” The girls ran around in a circle, lifting up their shirts, revealing their stomachs.
“Ma, are you out of your mind?” Dylan stepped in.
“What? Every child gotta have a dream.”
“Can we put ’em on now?” Kaylee begged, jumping up and down.
“I don’t think so,” Billie said.
“But why not?”
“’Cause I said so.” She shot them both a look that could kill.
“Huh. Now you see what we got to put up with.” Kaylee rolled her eyes.
“O. O. C. Out . . . of ... control.” Tee-Tee waved his index finger in the air, laughing.
“Laughter only encourages her,” Dylan said with a grimace.
“It’s okay, girl,” Billie assured. “I’ll take the tank tops away while they’re asleep.”
“Don’t throw them away, though. Later on tonight they can be put to good use.” Dylan winked.
“You are such a whore.”
“Shhh. Don’t tell nobody.”
“Well, look. Y’all have a seat. Dinner will be served shortly,” Billie announced.
“Yo’, Billie,” Candy called out.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Girl, don’t be ma’am-ing me. Shit, I’m too young for all that. Where is my main man Kyrese?”
“With his father.”
“Well, I’ll be doggone. I wanted him to teach me how to do the Stanky Leg. I already got the Ricky Bobby down pat.” Candy did the dance then stopped and did a jailhouse pose for the frame.
“Shoot me now.” Dylan looked up at the ceiling.
“Candy, you a mess, girl. Come sit down wit’ me.” Tee-Tee patted the seat next to him.
Candy happily obliged his request. She absolutely adored Tee-Tee.
“How you been?”
“Baby, if I was any better, I would swear it was a setup.”
“I know that’s right. So, you seein’ anybody?”
“You know, for a minute there I was in between gigs, ya dig? But I been doing this li’l Internet dating thing and done found me a nice li’l fella.”
“That’s wassup! Now, tell me, what you think of Bernard?” Tee-Tee and Candy eyed him from across the room.
“Aw, baby, you know I likes me a ruff neck, an old crazy muthafucka. A niggah that’ll growl at ya. Grrrrrrrrrrrr!” She laughed. “Pull ya weave out! Make you give him a blow job just ’cause you looked at him the wrong way type of niggah.”
Tee-Tee fell out laughing.
“And, sugar, that there is all man,” Candy continued. “If he wasn’t batting for yo’ team, I would be all over that lush tenderloin, ’cause homeboy got it going on.”
“Miss Candy.” Kenzie and her sister came over giggling.
“Yes, sugar.” Candy held her hand.
“What’s a blow job?”
“That’s simple, sugar. Fifty bucks, two dinners, and a watch.”
While Dylan tried to pretend she hadn’t heard the conversation between the twins and Candy, State checked a text message he’d just received on his phone. After reading the message, he closed his phone and gazed off into space.
“I am starving,” Dylan leaned over and said. “I hope we’re having steak. I’m in a red meat kind of mood. Are you ready to eat?” she asked State. He didn’t answer.
“Hello.” She waved her hand in front of his face.
“My bad.” State finally looked up.
“Mm-hmm.” Dylan pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. “You enjoying yourself so far?”
“Yeah, your people are cool. I mean, yo’ mom and homeboy are kinda out there, but it’s cool. I’m enjoying myself, but yo’ . . . let me go make a run real quick.”
“A run where? We just got here, and plus dinner will be served any second now.” Dylan searched his eyes, confused.
“I’ll be right back.” He stood up and placed his phone in his pocket.
“So, whatever you’re about to do can’t wait until later?” Dylan said in a whisper so no one else could hear.
“Yo’, don’t start trippin’. I said I’ll be right back.” He quickly kissed her cheek. “Billie, I have to run out for a quick second, but I’ll be back.”
“Okay.” She smiled then turned her attention back to the chef.
“Please don’t take too long,” Dylan whispered so no one would hear the desperation in her voice.
“I won’t,” he assured.
“You will not hurt my pride if right now you decide that you are not ready to settle down.”
—Brownstone, “If You Love Me”
Chapter 8
State drove down I-70 wishing that he could rewind time. It wasn’t right to leave Dylan at a moment’s notice, but when Ashton texted him saying she got a break in her schedule and that she’d be home in less than two hours, he had no choice but to bounce. There was no way he was gonna let his wife come home to an empty house, so he left Dylan to face the critics alone. It was fucked up that her feelings would be hurt, and State knew sooner or later he’d have to deal with the consequences of his actions, but Ashton was his main priority.
For the past four months, they’d done nothing but Skype and talk over the phone. He missed his wife like a fat kid loved cake. He had to have her. And yeah, the fact that he was living two different lives was becoming too hard to juggle, but State wasn’t ready to give up either woman just yet. He had an appetite for destruction, and both women were like five-star meals.
Ten unanswered phone calls and an hour and a half later, Dylan sat at the table, unable to eat, with an empty chair beside her. She didn’t want to look up from her plate. She was afraid that if she did, the reality of the situation would be too hard to ignore. This all had to have been a horrible dream, because no way had her “boyfriend” left her nearly two hours before at a dinner party and not even cared enough to answer his phone to explain why. That shit wasn’t real. Nobody does stuff like that. Oh, but wait, State did. Just like before, he’d build up her trust and emotions only to let her down, and Dylan, being completely head over heels in love with him, fell for it each and every time.
“Honey, are you all right?” Billie wrapped her arm around Dylan’s shoulder.
Dylan took her eyes off of her plate and realized that she was the only one left at the table. Everybody else had retired into the living area.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You didn’t eat any of your food. Are you sure you’re not hungry?”
“Uh-huh. I just wanna go home.”
“Do you wanna try calling State again?”
“No . . . it’s no use. He’s not coming back. Can you just have your driver drop us off? I gave mine the night off.”
“Sure, sweetie. No problem.” Billie kissed her on the forehead then excused herself from the room.
Despite her outer demeanor, on the inside, Billie was pissed. For her friend, she’d let her guard down and accepted State into their inner circle. She’d opened her home to him without reservation, only for him to shit on it all. Billie knew he hadn’t changed one bit. State was still the same lying, twotiming, dirty-dick, sack-of-shit niggah in her eyes. She just prayed for Dylan’s sake that she’d wise up and realize that State would always remain the same, despite what his mouth claimed.
“This State. You know what to do.” His voice mail message clicked in again. Fed up and disappointed, Dylan snapped her phone shut. That was the twentieth time that night she’d heard his voice mail greeting. Determined not to call him anymore, she turned off her phone and placed it on the table next to her. A warm spring breeze swept through the window.
Dylan lay on her chaise lounge chair with Fuck ’em Gurl in her lap. Somehow, she’d grown fond of the dog. She didn’t even mind when she climbed into her bed to sleep at night. Dylan now expected her to. Rubbing Fuck ’em Gurl’s back, Dylan gazed at the sky. The stars that night seemed so close that she could reach out and grab them one by one. Normally, when she was depressed, Dylan baked or perused the racks or Internet for her next can’t-live-without purchase, but that night, not even retail therapy would solve her problems.
With the persistence of a stalker she’d tired calling State all night, only to get no answer. A part of her wished she could say his behavior was out of character or unexpected, but it wasn’t. State was being typical State. Nothing about him had really changed. Dylan was the one who had tricked herself into believing that this time around, after time apart, his word would hold true. But State was never there for support. He never was around for her birthday or holidays. He never volunteered to meet her family and friends. He never thought twice about her aborting their baby, but yet and still, there was this so-called love, want, and need for her in his heart that he just couldn’t escape. None of it added up, and Dylan knew it.
She knew that something major was missing between them. Maybe it was the fact that she loved him more than he loved her, or the fact that he never invested as much of himself into their relationship as she did. Dylan just wished he’d see how much she cared for him. If he recognized that, maybe, just maybe, he would appreciate her more and treat her better.
Dylan lay on her side, curled up in the fetal position, in a state between asleep and awake. The ever present sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach caused her to toss and turn all night. She’d never felt more nervous. It didn’t help that her mind kept replaying the night before over and over again like a bad pop song. She just wished that she could pinpoint when and where things went wrong. She and State hadn’t really gotten a chance to talk, so she couldn’t have been getting on his nerves. Maybe it was Tee-Tee and Bernard. Maybe they were too over the top for his taste. It was no secret that State only tolerated them for Dylan’s sake. She knew he didn’t agree with homosexuality.
Better yet, was it all too much too soon for him? Committing to Dylan had always been their biggest problem. If that was the case, she would have to let him go, because this time she wasn’t looking for a casual affair. She wanted a relationship that was based on truth, not lies. Dylan wasn’t the silly little naïve girl she used to be.
She knew State had a lot of girls on his dick. She knew that he would one day get too comfortable and want something new. The trait was in his blood. Every man before him and since him had done her the same way. Dylan had always been able to get a man, but never keep a man. Maybe it was because on the inside she felt that love wasn’t in her reach. The basic principle of love started with family, but Dylan never had that need fulfilled. Her own mother didn’t love her, so how could a man with no real obligation fulfill that void? She just hated that like before, she’d let down her guard and gave in to empty promises.
Suddenly, a thought came to her mind. State didn’t start acting weird until he received that text message.
Hell naw,
Dylan thought, rising out of her sleep.
Hell naw,
Dylan thought, rising out of her sleep.
“That niggah got a text message from another chick and left my ass. I wonder, was it that one chick? I bet it was . . . muthafucka. That got to be it because if it was just business, he would’ve said so. I swear to God, if that big-head muthafucka played me to the left for another bitch—”
The phone interrupted her conversation with herself. Dylan wondered who it could be. It was eight o’clock in the morning. The only people who called her that early were bill collectors, who she hated. At one point, she was a valued customer, but now all they did was send her hate mail.
Picking up the phone, she checked the caller ID and saw State’s name glaring back at her. Every fiber in her being, every beat of her heart wanted to say fuck him, but the big part of her that loved him needed to know point blank what his excuse was so she could somehow feel better.
Before she answered, Dylan decided to play him like he’d played her and not answer his calls. Instead, she pressed ignore and sent his ass to voice mail. State, being the persistent man he was, continued to call back, even though he was fully aware he was being forwarded to voice mail. Ten unanswered phone calls and two voice mail messages later, Dylan felt inclined to finally pick up the phone.
“Hello?” she said with an obvious attitude.
“Are you conscious? What the fuck is on yo’ mind?” State barked.
“What do you want, State?” Dylan replied dryly, unfazed.
“Why you ain’t answering the phone?”
“Same reason you didn’t last night.”
“Really? That’s how you feel?”
Dylan held the phone and didn’t respond.
“My bad about last night. I got caught up.”
“I just bet you did,” she mocked.
“Straight up.” He turned the wheel on his car and pulled away from the curb. “What you got going on today? You wanna go have breakfast or something? We need to talk.”
“And the sad part is you’re serious.” Dylan laughed, amazed. “I’ma call you back.” She hung up before he could reply. “He got me fucked up if he think he gon’ call me and say my bad and that be it.”
She snatched the covers off of her and stood up as State tried calling back again. Dylan stepped out into the hallway and noticed her mother coming out of her room as well.
“Who is that steady callin’ here like a goddamn stalker?” Candy rubbed her eyes.
“State.” Dylan walked past her and proceeded down the steps.
“Have you talked to him?” Candy followed her.
“Yes,” Dylan said, entering the kitchen. “Consuela!”
“Yeezzzz,” Consuela answered, irritated.
She’d just started her shift and was already ready to go home.
“Can you please iron the blue Gucci tank top and printed cigarette pants that I have hanging up outside of my closet? Oh, and grab those red Mary Janes and my cream fedora with the blue band around the top. Also, once you’re done with that, run me a hot bubble bath, set out all of my makeup and hair products, clean up my room, then start cleaning up downstairs.”
“And I need you to run out and get me some Jack,” Candy joined in. “And some toenail clippers. My big toe been killin’ me.”
“
Perras perezoso
.” Consuela rolled her eyes, calling them both lazy bitches.
Perras perezoso
.” Consuela rolled her eyes, calling them both lazy bitches.
“So, did he apologize?” Candy took a seat at the kitchen island.
“Kinda sorta.” Dylan opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of cranberry-raspberry juice.
“Well, what the hell does ‘kinda sorta’ mean?”
“It means he said, ‘My bad. I got caught up.’”
“You got to be fuckin’ kidding me. Now, ain’t that a load of monkey shit.”
“You want some?” Dylan grabbed herself a glass from the cabinet.
“Yeah, but put a li’l splash of Absolut in mine.”
“Why can’t you just be normal?” Dylan rolled her eyes as Fuck ’em Gurl ran into the kitchen.
“Girl, please.” Candy waved her off. “That niggah there is a trip, but you the damn dummy.”
“And how am I to blame for this?” Dylan screwed up her face.
“’Cause if you would’ve kept that damn baby like I told you to, you wouldn’t be having all these problems. Ain’t no way in hell I would’ve had an abortion just ’cause that niggah said he wasn’t ready and that he ain’t want you to have it. Fuck that! That niggah woulda had to pull that muthafucka up outta me.
“Like I told you before, a baby outweighs er’thang else. You woulda had that niggah in yo’ back pocket fo’ life, ya feel me? Anything you wanted, before you thought about it you woulda had it, but since you used yo’ heart instead of yo’ head, guess what you are to him?”
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” Dylan sighed.
“It means that in State’s eyes you’re still the chick he just got feelin’s for, a.k.a. Miss She Ain’t Going Nowhere. That baby could’ve been our meal ticket. State is worth three hundred and fifty million dollars. Dylan, we would’ve been set fo’ life. All them money problems you having right now . . . gone!” Candy pointed her index finger going down. “Wham!”
“Hold up.” Dylan waved her hands in the air. “How you know that I’m having financial issues?”
“Girl, get over ya’self. You put all ya damn mail on the refrigerator. Plus I was here one day the mail ran.”
“Oh my God, Ma! Do not open my mail!”
“Shit, girl, get ya panties out ya ass and get over it. Instead of gettin’ mad wit’ me, what you need to be doing is thinkin’ about what I told you. Hell, why you think I had you?”
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