The Ex Factor: A Novel (23 page)

Kree laid Imani down and kissed her from the top of her head to the tip of her clit.

“Kree…,” she moaned.

“Be quiet,” he insisted.

He opened Imani's legs and began to suck on her inner thighs, going from one to the other. Her eyes rolled to the top of her head; she didn't know whether to be nervous or act like an expert. He slid his tongue into her slit and graced her clit with its warm wetness, sucking it slowly and slurping the flowing juices as if it were melting ice cream. Her juices glazed his lips as he ran his tongue from one end of her pussy to the next. Imani placed her hands on top of his head.

“This is what ya man is supposed to do,” he said, softly biting her pussy lips.

Imani had never imagined that having someone go down on you felt like this. She knew that her friends had always bragged about it. And Sabrena had even told a story about getting the bomb head and passing out, but never in a million years did Imani imagine that it felt like this. This was ecstasy. This is what made you dream…dream about being a down chick for life. This is what carried your mind to a place you never knew existed.

Kree licked and sucked until he felt Imani's body start to tense. He knew she was cumin'. And he wanted her to. He needed her to…to cum…so that he could show her sometimes making love was about getting pleased and not always having to be the one to do it.

The music continued to play as Imani came long and hard, screaming Kree's name. She started to get fidgety after she came, wanting him to stop kissing her pussy and instead take his dick out and put it in, but he continued to eat her out and even more
aggressively than before. Forcing her, two seconds later, to cum again.

“Kree,” she moaned.

“Yes, baby.”

“I want some dick.”

“You can't handle this.”

“Yeah, please. I want it.”

As Kree undressed Imani he used the soft glow from the candles as his light. Once they were both undressed, he sucked her breasts and then slipped his ten-inch dick inside. He took both of her legs and threw them over his right shoulder. Imani felt as if she'd been blindsided. She never expected his dick to feel like this. For once she felt as if she were being made love to and not fucked.

Kree moved with expertise, as if he were a pianist, stroking each key with precision. As Imani's pelvic muscles started to contract, Kree flipped her over. “Imani,” he said, breathing heavy.

“Yes.”

“Don't ever—”

“Don't ever what?”

“Talk about another niggah's dick to me.” He turned her to the side, spreading her legs like scissors. “Understand?”

“Kree,” she whined.

He flipped back over; now she lay on her back. “Understand?”

“Yes.” She moaned, “Kree…”

“Yes, baby.”

“I'm cumin'.”

“That's what you spose to do. Now cum on.”

“S
TARR!” ROXANNE CRIED,
“Starr!”

“Come on big girl and do that rodeo show for daddy,” Red said, as he entered their bedroom, interrupting Starr's conversation.

“Hush,” Starr said, giving him the evil eye, “Roxanne on the phone crying. Now Roxanne,” she turned her attention back to the phone, “What's wrong?”

“Jimmy—”

“What about Jimmy?! Where are you?”

“At the hospital.” “She at the hospital,” Starr mumbled to Red. “Why are you at the hospital? What happened?”

“I was—I was—oh I'm embarrassed to say—”

“Just say it,” Starr said as calmly as possible.

“Well you know my arms is little… and I feel like I gotta be a freak to make up for my elbows being next to my ears …” Rox-anne let out a long sigh. Starr could hear her shuddering tears.

“Roxy, please tell me what's wrong?”

“Well …” Roxanne sniffed, “Jimmy was giving me a golden shower and he tumbled on top of me—”

“A golden who?” Starr asked in disbelief.

“A golden shower.”

“Jimmy was giving Roxanne a golden shower,” Starr whispered to Red.

“Oh my lawd Jesus!” Red sucked his teeth, “I knew anybody with they hands that close to their mouth was a freak! Get off the phone with that backwards heifer. Tell her don't be callin' over here startin' no shit. Next thing I know you'll be tryna get me to eat grits out ya ass! Hang up on her right now, Starrla!”

Turning her attention back to Roxanne, Starr could hear her moaning in the background. “Roxanne,” Starr said shaking her finger at Red, “How's Jimmy doing now?”

“Oh, Starr…he's dead!” Roxanne screamed, “He's dead! He had a heart attack and died.”

Starr was in shock as she held the phone in her hand. Not knowing what was wrong, Red became concerned. “Look, Starr,”— Red cleared his throat—“what Jimmy and Roxanne do is one thing, but I just can't bring myself to piss on you. Why don't we try swingin' instead?”

“Hush, Red,” Starr said wiping the tears streaming from her eyes and hearing Roxanne continue to scream on the phone. “It's Jimmy.”

“What about Jimmy?”

“Sit down, Red.”

“I don't wanna sit down, just tell me.”

Starr swallowed hard. “Jimmy passed, Red. Roxanne said he had a heart attack and died.”

Red started to cry as he flopped down on the bed next to Starr, who was trying her best to calm Roxanne down. “Roxanne,” she said, “hang up the phone, baby. We're on our way to the hospital…Let's go, Red.” Starr wiped her tears. “I need you to be strong, we still have to tell Mama Byrd.”

… … …

“MAMA BYRD,” STARR said, as she and Red walked into the living room. Starr was practically holding Red up straight. “I have something to tell you.”

“Can a old ho shit in peace, please,” Mama Bryd said, holding the metal rails on her porta-potty.

“Mama Byrd,” Starr continued, “I don't know if you'll understand this, but I need to tell you something.”

“What is it, baby?” Mama Byrd said seriously, “You can tell me anything.”

“All right, this is hard for me to believe and even harder to say. But Jimmy—Jimmy—he died.”

“Jimmy? My knee-baby-boy Jimmy?”

“Yes.”

“Oh hell to the nawl!” Mama Byrd crouched to her knees.

“It's all right, Mama Bryd,” Starr assured her.

“It ain't all right, 'cause now I got to worry 'bout the pastor's wife tellin' Jimmy that Deacon Jones was really his daddy.”

… … …

AT JIMMY'S FUNERAL Starr tried to comfort Red as best she could. Roxanne couldn't speak. At most, all she could do was rock back and forth, whispering Jimmy's name, over and over again.

“Excuse me.” Mama Byrd tapped Roxanne on the shoulder. “Yo' sleeves too long.”

“Hush up!” Starr said to Mama Byrd. “Hush!”

Starr wiped the tears from her eyes as she walked around for one last look at Jimmy's casket. She stooped and kissed him on the forehead.
I'ma miss you, Jimmy
, she thought, rubbing his cold hands,
I'ma miss you.
As Starr walked to the back of the church she couldn't stop thinking about the way her girls had spoken to her on her wedding day. Hell, she couldn't help it if things didn't work out with their fathers. After all, Starr was never one for letting children dictate whom she should and shouldn't be with. Her philosophy was,
One day their asses will be grown, and then I'll be stuck with some niggah I don't like.

As soon as Starr got home, she started cooking for the repast and then called her daughters on the phone. “You ain't got to like Red, but you will respect him. Now his baby brother Jimmy died and I expect you to be here. I don't wanna hear nothin' about no get-free parties, about how far you live, or any other nonsense, and since y'all selfish asses didn't show for the funeral, I expect you to be here.

“All I wanna know,” Mama Byrd said, spitting snuff into her spit cup, “is who was that niggah in the casket? It wasn't Red, was it? Now, Jimmy, if he got to go, he got to go. But Red, that niggah owe me some money.”

“Mama Byrd,” Buttah said, fanning her hand, “my man died, my kids' daddy. Jimmy …” Buttah started crying. “Jimmy! Jimmy! Oh, Jimmy!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Mama Byrd frowned. “Goddamn, them wasn't his kids no way.”

“That ain't true!” Buttah screamed. “De-niece and De-nephew are his kids! Jimmy loved me!”

“Who the fuck is De-niece and De-nephew?”

“Mama Byrd, be quiet.” Starr rolled her eyes. She hated that Mama Byrd didn't know any better because then she couldn't tell her off like she wanted to. “I don't know what I'ma do about my Red,” Starr said, sliding the corn bread into the oven. “Red is torn up. I thought he was gon' fall in the casket. He and Roxanne both. Jimmy was their backbone, not to mention the Jam on Its will never be the same.”

“I guess they'll just be Jam now.” Mama Byrd frowned. “Can a bitch get a beer around here?”

“Mama Byrd, Jimmy was your son!” Starr said, upset.

“I knew he looked familiar. Was that my knee-baby Jimmy?”

“Yes.”

Tears filled Mama Byrd's eyes. “You mean my knee-baby-boy Jimmy Jack Daniels Brown?”

“Yes.”

“Oh Lord!” Mama Byrd shot up from her seat. “Jack Daniels!
Jack Daniels! Oh why they had to go and take Jack Daniels, that was my knee-baby!”

Roxanne walked slowly into the kitchen as if she were numb. She was wearing a long black dress, with a long veil hanging from a large garden hat that tied in a bow under her chin. She looked like a mourning southern belle. Cutting her eyes at Buttah, she fell to her knees. “My man…My man is gone! Oh Jimmy! Oh Jimmy. Oh Lawd! I can't lose you and Luther at the same time. I can't do it!”

“Luther?” Mama Byrd said, wiping her eyes, “Luther died too? Oh no!” she screamed. “Oh hell no! This house will never be a home! Oh this is too much! Luther!” Mama Byrd screamed. “Luther!”

“Jimmy!” Roxanne screamed simultaneously.

“Oh, Jimmy!” “Oh Jesus!” Starr screamed. “Please, my nerves are bad!” First she helped Mama Byrd off the floor, and then she helped Roxanne up. She handed Roxanne a cold compress. “Take that hat off and go lie down, baby…It's all right.” She turned to Mama Byrd, who was still sniffling and calling Luther's name. “Mama Byrd, Luther and Jimmy both in a better place.”

“I need,” Mama Byrd sniffed, “my porta-potty.”

“I'll get it!” Buttah said. “I can't clean up no mo' shit. Please.”

“Why you got to call me out?” Mama Byrd sucked her teeth. “It ain't a secret that my bowels is loose.”

“Ma, do you have any Extra Strength Tylenol?” Monica said, walking into the kitchen. “My back is killing me.” She sat down at the kitchen table, and the smell of the squash, corn, and tomato pudding that sat on the table started to make her feel even worse.
This is not going to work.

“I'm glad you're here. Are you feeling okay?” Starr asked Monica. She handed her a glass of water and two Tylenols. Afterward she pressed the back of her hand against Monica's forehead. “You feel a little warm, baby.”

“Hey, Ma,” Celeste and Imani said, walking into the kitchen. They walked over to Starr and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

Afterward Imani kissed Monica on the cheek. “You know you're my favorite sister in the whole world.”

“Get outta here, heifer!” Monica chuckled. “You make me sick. I'ma kill you about the drive-by you did with my nephew the other day.”

“I thought you told me he could come over.”

“Stop lying.”

“My sister loves me so much,” Imani teased, pinching Monica's cheeks.

“Where's Jamal?” Monica said playfully, slapping Imani's hands down.

“In the living room with the twins.”

“Celeste,” Starr said, “has my wedding tape come to your house yet?”

“No, Ma,” Celeste said, “not yet.” As Celeste turned around she frowned at Monica. “Hi,” she said drily.

Monica didn't respond. As far as she was concerned Celeste had already won, and she didn't need the shit thrown in her face anymore. “Can I have some more water, Ma?” Monica asked.

Starr poured Monica a glass of water and handed it to her. “Have you gone to the doctor?”

“I'll be okay. I'm a nurse, remember, all I feel is miserable.” For a brief moment Monica thought of her fibroids.

“Humph.” Celeste snickered. “Funny how the tables turn.”

“Don't start.” Monica got up from her chair and walked over to the kitchen sink. As she turned around to sit back down, every-one's eyes darted directly to her protruding stomach.

“Monica, are you pregnant?” Imani blurted out.

Monica sucked her teeth. “You know I can't have children.”

“The doctor never said that,” Starr said, taking a fork and tasting some of her collards out of the pot. “I was there. All he said
was with one fallopian tube it would decrease your chances of having children. He never said you couldn't get pregnant.”

“Ma, please I don't have time for that,” Monica said.

“Celeste,” Starr said, “where's Sharief ?”

“Why?” Celeste snapped. “What, are going to ask
him
if she's pregnant?”

“Oh here we the fuck go!” Monica snarled. “Give it a rest.”

“Wait a damn minute!” Starr screamed. “What is going on here? All I want is for Sharief to carry some of this food into the dining room!”

“You should feel good and stupid.” Imani rolled her eyes at Celeste. “I'll get him, Ma.”

“I'm getting a little sick of you two,” Starr said. “First my wedding day and now today! I'm not gon' have it.”

“Ma,” Celeste said, lighting a cigarette, “this has nothing to do with your wedding day.”

“Well, what the hell is going on? Are you two still upset about me not being with your daddies?”

Imani walked back into the kitchen. “Sharief's coming, Ma. He was using his cell phone.”

“Who was he talking to?” Celeste asked Imani.

“How the hell am I supposed to know,” Imani said. “I don't keep tabs on your man.”

“Remember that,” Celeste snapped, “when you're looking for Walik's sorry ass!”

“This is not about Walik.”

“I can't tell. Walik was sorry from the jump,” Celeste said.

“And so was yo' daddy.”

“All right now,” Starr warned.

“What's all the screaming about?” Sharief asked as he walked into the kitchen. “How come it's always a war zone when y'all get together?”