Moments of Clarity (12 page)

Chapter 10

“Where have you been and what have you been up to?”

Sasha laughed when she heard her sister Dominique's voice.

“Good morning to you too, sister dear.”

“Don't ‘sister dear' me. Mom is worried about you. She tried to call you at work the other day and no one seemed to know where you were.”

Sasha yawned into the receiver and looked at the clock. “I switched shifts. I'll call her and let her know. Do you realize that it's only eight o'clock on a Saturday morning?”

“Of course I realize that. The twins have been up for hours.”

“Well, I sure hate it for you,” Sasha responded.

“Stop dodging my questions. I demand an answer. Hold on a minute. That's my call waiting, and it's Desiree. I'll put us on three-way call.”

Sasha waited patiently and then heard the gentler voice of her sister Desiree.

“Sasha, where have you been and what have you been up to?”

Sasha laughed and replied, “My goodness, Desiree, you get more like Dominique every day. Those are the exact words that she said right before you beeped in.”

“And she still hasn't answered my question. Come on now, young lady. Give an account of yourself.”

“I'm grown. I don't report to the two of you,” Sasha answered teasingly.

“Well, whatever you've been up to, you have to put it on hold,” Dominique ordered.

“That's right. Benjamin got us front row tickets to go and see Tyler Perry's Broadway play
What's Done in the Dark.”

“My brother-in-law is the bomb,” Desiree chimed in.

“When is the play?” Sasha asked.

“Next Saturday night at eight. It's sold out, but we got lucky. One of Benjamin's patients works on the set, and he gave him front row tickets.”

“Is the guy too sick to go? I don't want to go to the play because of someone else's bad luck,” Sasha said.

“No, he's fine. That's why he gave Benjamin the tickets. He's very grateful.”

“In that case, I'm surprised that you don't want to go with Benjamin. You know how you like to show him off all the time.”

“Ha, ha, ha,” Dominique replied without rancor because she knew it was the truth. “No, this time I'm taking my sisters. It's been a long time since we did something special that was just the three of us.”

Desiree echoed Dominique's sentiments and Sasha smiled because it always amused her how much the two of them had in common even though their demeanors were totally opposite.

“It sounds like fun,” Sasha acquiesced.

“What? No ‘Let me check my schedule and get back to you'?”

“No. This is the perfect opportunity for us to catch up. I have some news for the two of you. You will find this very interesting, Dominique. You might even dance the Irish jig.”

“Well, don't make me wait for two weeks. Tell me now,” Dominique demanded.

“No,” Sasha responded, “I have an appointment at the beauty parlor this morning so I don't have time to go into it. Besides, I want to see the look on your faces when I tell you.”

“Is it good news or bad news?” Desiree asked.

“Its great news,” Sasha replied.

“Let's meet at the theatre around seven fifteen sharp,” Dominique instructed.

“Sounds good to me,” Sasha said.

“Sounds good to me also,” Desiree agreed.

* * *

Kitty's House of Beauty was located on Lee Boulevard in Brooklyn and it took Sasha three subway connections to get there. As she thumbed through the latest issue of
Cosmo
as she traveled, her eyes focused on an article that gave step-by-step instruction on diverse sexual tricks guaranteed to please your man.

Sasha was so engrossed in the article she looked up in surprise when the subway ground to a halt at her stop. Glancing down at her wristwatch, she realized that she would have to step on it to make her appointment. She stuffed her magazine in her bag, climbed to the street and hurriedly walked down the block to the salon.

The salon was one of three located on the block. It was always crowded with customers because it had the reputation of having the best hairdressers and the most up to date hair stylist techniques. If a customer saw an actress sporting a hairdo that she wanted to duplicate, all she had to do was to bring in a photo or cite the television program and the ‘do' could be replicated immediately. Sasha rarely had to look in the style books because she always knew what she wanted before she reached the salon.

When Sasha opened the door to the salon she noted wryly that it was the typical Saturday with the radio blaring music and a television that was muted but playing videos that were featured on B.E.T.

Sasha was met with a chorus of hellos and smiles when she entered the parlor and as she walked past the barbers. “Hey everybody!” she said. “How are you guys doing?”

“I'm fine. What's new?” Candy asked as she looked Sasha up and down from head to toe. Candy had the chair closest to the barbers and she never had a curtain around her booth because she was so nosy she didn't want to be cut off from everyone else and miss the gossip.

“Not much,” Sasha replied. She had been a patron at Kitty's House of Beauty for over a decade, and she usually had a good laugh or heard one or two rowdy discussions before someone got mad and told someone else off. However, she was always careful not to discuss her personal life at the salon because she had witnessed patrons confiding information about themselves only to become the topic of conversation after they left.

Clarence and Chauncey were the only men who worked in the salon. They specialized in cutting men's hair and shaped up the edges of women who were wearing the stylish short hair cuts. Whenever there was a discussion about anything, they felt inclined to volunteer the man's point of view.

Sasha walked down the aisle that divided the store. When she reached her hairdresser's booth she saw that the chair was empty. She plopped down into the seat and asked, “Marjorie, where is your sister?”

In the opposite booth Marjorie was in the process of braiding a young girl's hair. “She said that she'll be right back. She went next door to get some chicken gizzards. You know how Kitty likes to eat.”

Sasha laughed. “I hope that she's not planning on eating that mess and doing my hair at the same time.”

Marjorie laughed. “She wouldn't do that. She'll just make you wait until she's finished every morsel.”

“Not today she won't. I have to get out of here as soon as possible, and I want to get my hair crimped.”

“What's going on? Do you have big plans tonight or something?” Marjorie gave her a quizzical look.

Sasha hesitated and then replied nonchalantly, “I'm going to a party and I need to look my best.”

Marjorie looked at the pretty picture Sasha made in her plaid green shorts, matching skirt and Sketchers. She looked like a model in an Old Navy commercial. Marjorie said, “You should get the Halle Berry cut. Now that she's rockin' it longer, you won't look as if you're a wannabe.”

“No, thanks,” Sasha politely declined. “Short hair is harder to take care of than long hair. You have to use a curling iron every day.”

“No you don't,” Marjorie denied. “All you have to do is wrap it at night. You should think about it. You're so pretty you can get away with a real short hair cut. Not every woman can because they'd look too mannish.”

Sasha turned as Kitty stomped towards them with an apologetic look on her face. “I'm sorry, girl. They told me that their gizzards would be done in a minute, and it took them ten.”

“Well, where are they?” Sasha asked, looking at Kitty's empty hands.

“I ate them on the way over here.”

She caught the look that passed between Sasha and Marjorie and said defensively, “I only ordered twenty.” Neither of them said anything and then she said with a stronger tone, “You know they give you those little itty-bitty pieces.”

Marjorie said in a mildly exasperated voice, “Do what you want. But if you're not careful you're gonna be as big as a house, and then you'll never get a man.”

“I'm only a size sixteen. I heard on the news that seventy percent of the women in the United States wear from a size twelve to sixteen.” Kitty made a derogatory snort. “Anyone smaller than that is on television.”

“But you're only thirty-three, and the stats show that most people gain an average of ten pounds a year. If you keep eating like this you're going to weigh a ton when you hit forty.”

Kitty was obviously upset by her sister's criticism and said, “Being skinny doesn't guarantee you a man. Ain't that right, Sasha?”

“Don't draw me into your argument,” Sasha protested. And then she looked at Marjorie. “I don't appreciate you making your sister mad when she's getting ready to do my hair. I don't want to leave here looking like I had a Britney meltdown.”

Marjorie stared at Sasha. “I'm not trying to hurt her feelings. I just want her to cut back on her food intake. That's the third trip she's made to the store today, and it's not even lunchtime.”

“I like my size. I eat when I'm under stress, and believe me, I'm under a lot of it. Being the owner of a beauty parlor and dealing with all of these different personalities and their issues isn't all fun and games,” Kitty said. “You've always been skinny. You eat a lot, too.”

“But if I had to watch my weight, I would,” Marjorie claimed.

“People always say that they can do something when they don't have to do it.”

Sasha attempted to change the conversation when she saw the amused looks from the other people in the salon as they listened to the argument between the two sisters.

“I want my hair crimped.” Sasha smiled cajolingly at Kitty.

Clarence always enjoyed a good argument, and not wanting the subject changed, he yelled down to them from where he stood cutting hair. “I like my women plump. There's more for me to love.”

“You just like big women because you want people to think that you have a big one. You're trying to overcompensate.” Chauncey laughed as he edged his customer's hair at the base of his neck.

“I ain't got nothin' to be ashamed of. I'm Gigantor's son,” Clarence bragged.

“That's a lie. You ain't got nothin' going on there but the rent.”

“How you know? You been checking me out in the bathroom, old man?”

“Ain't nobody looking at you. Your ex-wife told my girl.” Laughter erupted in the salon.

“But your momma told me it's the biggest she ever had and she wished that I had been around before she met your daddy. Then maybe you wouldn't have to buy those toys so your woman can get satisfied.”

Laughter in the salon erupted again and Clarence and Chauncey stopped cutting hair long enough to give each other a high five. Then Chauncey said in a serious tone, “If you talk about my momma again, they're gonna find you six feet under.”

“I'm trembling,” Clarence replied dryly.

Another hairdresser, Shaneka, was also not quite ready for the first conversation to be let go. “I agree with Kitty.” She sat in her chair and was in the process of polishing off a can of Pringles that had on the label ‘thirty percent reduced fat'. “Skinny women ain't always got it going on. Look at Sasha's girl, Tiara. She's skinny and running around thinking she's a big deal driving that Lexus SUV, and her husband was caught picking up a hooker.”

An uncomfortable silence fell in the salon and several hairdressers studiously kept their heads down, focusing on their customers as they pretended that they didn't hear what had been said.

Kitty said, “That was uncalled for, Shaneka. Why did you have to go there?”

“What? We've been talking about it for weeks.” She pointed at her. “You the one that told me that the guy was Tiara's husband.”

Kitty cast Sasha an apologetic look. “We were all discussing it and I just said that the guy is Sasha's best friend's husband. You're the one,” and now she pointed to Tawny, whose station was on the other side of hers, and said, “who said it was good enough for Tiara because whenever she came in here she thought that she was too good to talk to you because you have four kids and have never been married.”

Tawny put her curling iron down and said, “I did say that because it's true. I notice she ain't been in here since that shit hit the paper. I heard that if your man cheats on you your stuff ain't no good!”

“Then your stuff must be real raggedy, Tawny, because your baby girl has two half-brothers that are around the same age she is.” Clarence looked at Tawny, daring her to say that he was lying.

“I don't care what Joe did. Anyhow, we were on a break when that mess happened.”

“As a former player, I can tell you that when men tell their woman that they need a break it's an excuse so they can try out some new stuff.” Clarence couldn't stop himself from needling her.

“That ain't what happened. I left him. He didn't leave me. It's not as if we were married or anything. He ain't trying to go nowhere now, is he?”

Clarence couldn't let that pass. “That's because he can't afford his own place with all those kids.”

“That's what you say. Joe pays all of my bills. Everything I make I get to keep for me and my daughter. He don't do nothing for those other kids.” She stood with her hands on her hips as if she was daring anyone to dispute her story and glared at Clarence.

Sasha had been quiet throughout the pointing of fingers, but then she looked at Shaneka and said firmly, “Tiara is my best friend, and I'm not going to talk about her business with anyone.” Next, she shot Tawny a dark look and then added, “I've been in here at the same time as Tiara and I've never noticed her snub you or anyone else. Maybe you have an inferiority complex.” Another long silence hung in the air.