Naughty Or Nice Part 4

"She made the best sweet potato pies in the whole wide world."

We held hands, our arms swinging back and forth.

I said, "Haveta keep tradition and visit the cemetery."

"Been getting your b.r.e.a.s.t.s checked?"

"Not yet."

"Frankie-"

"I know, I know."

"That's where it starts. Remember Aunt Amy, Auntie Alex . . ."

"Guess it . . . guess it scares me. Maybe I'd rather not know."

"Not knowing isn't going to make it go away, not going to make you live longer."

I'd parked near the sheriff's substation. She hopped in my car. I started letting the top down and noticed all the colorful signs, streamers, and frosted decorations advertising Christmas sales in every store window. h.e.l.l, Christmas decorations had been up before Halloween. And Thanksgiving decorations probably went up right after the Fourth of July. Holidays overlapped like relations.h.i.+ps.

"Wow." Tommie turned around and picked up my bouquet. "Frankie, these are nice roses."

"You want 'em?"

"Nah. That wouldn't be right."

"Lying about how you look should be a felony."

"What did the fugly man say about not looking like his picture?"

"Think I was too stunned to ask. Seeing Nick-"

"Big d.i.c.k Nick had you going woo woo woo."

"h.e.l.l, yeah." I laughed. "Had to pop a Percodan when he was through with me."

"Somebooty is still sprung on the woo woo woo."

"Seeing Nick, acting like a fool, then seeing fugly standing there with roses . . . it was too much."

I drove around the lot, parked between Ross and Subway. That's where she'd left my old Jeep Wrangler. Well, it was her Jeep now. I'd given it to her as a present after she came back home. She hadn't washed it once since she'd had it. I didn't say anything. I wanted to, but I didn't.

"All that security at TGIF." I pulled my locks into a ponytail. "We turn anything into a club."

"Too bad they don't support the businesses in Leimert Park like this."

I motioned at TGIF. "This'll last 'til somebooty gets shot."

"You are so negative."

"Why does every black club close?" I yawned. "Somebody gets shot."

"Not always."

"Oh really?"

Tommie yawned back. "Sometimes they get stabbed."

"True."

"Speaking of getting shot and stabbed, we gonna invite the rest of the family over?"

I rolled my eyes, something I rarely did. "Half of those fools are Crips, half of 'em Bloods. We put them in the same place we'll end up with a bunch of b.l.o.o.d.y crippled people."

"Hadn't thought about that. Maybe we can rent Kevlar vests, roll up in there 50 Cent style."

"We'll do our private thing, then maybe-and I do mean maybe-we'll go visit one or two of the older relatives. Maybe hit Blood City on Christmas Eve, roll through Cripville on Christmas."

We sat there for a moment, yawning the night away.

I asked, "What are your long-term plans?"

"Get back in Cal State L.A. Finish up. My New Year's resolution, special for Daddy."

"Get off your a.s.s and don't end up thirty with no skills and no education."

Our parents didn't finish high school, so it's been up to us girls to push each other. No brothers or strong male figures were around to guide and protect us since Daddy died, so we had to guide and protect each other. We didn't grow up in a Norman Rockwell painting, didn't have any doctors or lawyers in our family, never had those kind of role models, so I took responsibility, made sure Livvy had her education and some sort of a marketable skill, and wanted all of us to be the role models for the next generation. Every generation should be better than the one before.

Tommie patted my hand. "I'm going to start paying you more rent next year."

"Just work on getting your s.h.i.+t together."

"Well, maybe I could move to a cheaper area so you can rent your place out."

"No, you're not."

"You can't keep spending and lending me money."

"I don't lend money. I never give more money than I can afford to lose."

She leaned over and kissed my cheek. A couple of brothers pa.s.sing by saw that and looked at us like we were Rosie O'Donnell and Ellen DeGeneres.

I yelled, "Ain't that kinda party."

One of them yelled back, "Not a party unless a d.i.c.k's invited."

"We're sisters, a.s.shole. Keep stepping and don't mess up our family moment."

They moved on.

Tommie yawned. "What you want for Christmas?"

"A fallout shelter."

"Get me a shovel and a pick and I'll start on that first thing in the morning."

I chuckled. "What do you want Santa to bring you?"

"Whatever you get me is fine."

She was still looking around, still searching for the mystery man.

Tommie fidgeted. "I've been having real erotic dreams."

"Welcome to the club."

"About this guy."

"Uh huh. The guy you've been looking for all evening."

She laughed and shook her head. "Was I that obvious?"

"What does he look like? What does he do? Give me the juice."

"He has a nice personality. Very caring."

"Is he nice looking? Light, dark, brown, what?"

"A creamy vanilla with a nappy head."

"Maybe we should drive around and look for his a.s.s."

She laughed. "Kinda like Common with an LL body."

"d.a.m.n. What's his name and does he have an older brother?"

She blushed.

I smiled, gave her a you-go-girl nudge. She was so innocent when it came to affairs of the heart. She believed in love the way I used to believe in Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy.

She asked, "Can you be in love with someone and they don't know you exist on that level?"

Once again, I thought about Nick. About evenings spent at bookstores reading each other's work. About something I had initiated and got p.i.s.sed off when it wasn't fully reciprocated. Yeah, I tripped. It was all about my own expectations, not his desire. Maybe I expected him to be loyal to me, but I knew that people were loyal to their needs, to the emotions that helped them build their dreams.

The bottom line: I owed him an apology. I really did. But they'd be drinking lemonade and ice-skating in h.e.l.l before he got one.

Tommie interrupted my thoughts, told me, "I wanna be ballin' like you one day."

"Baby, ain't no fun being a queen living in a kingless castle."

"Let down the drawbridge."

"I did. n.o.body's coming over but court jesters and peasants with bad credit."

"Then you'd better put a doorbell on the other side of the moat."

"Why is it so hard to find a decent brother?"

"Because you're looking." She c.o.c.ked her head, thinking. "One time I asked Daddy how he met Momma and he told me that when you stopped looking for your keys, you would find your keys."

"Sounds like some off-the-wall philosophical s.h.i.+t out of Matrix."

"Daddy and Momma looked at too much Kung Fu."

Not long after that, Tommie kissed my lips, got out, and climbed into her dirty Jeep. I waited for her to fire up her ride and back out before I did the same. Her Pink CD was playing loud and strong as she sped east toward one of the duplexes I owned in old Ladera. I cranked up In.o.be and she sang me around the corner to the Mail Connexion. I looked at the sign and laughed, wondered if there was a place called Male Connexion. Anyway, I needed to check my post office box. Then In.o.be sang me west toward LAX and my crib in Westchester.

I made it home in ten minutes.

I kicked off my shoes then turned off the house alarm. The universal remote was by the door. I picked it up and pushed a few b.u.t.tons, selected which lights I wanted turned on, then dimmed them. Another b.u.t.ton and soft music came though the ceiling speakers throughout the crib; another turned on the fireplace and adjusted the temperature in the house to seventy-five degrees.

All the white walls and ethnic art made me feel like I was living in a cultural museum. Sometimes I thought about renting the big crib out to a family and downsizing into one of the smaller properties. h.e.l.l, maybe that was why I loved for someone to be here with me at night, until the sun started coming up. Made me feel feeble to admit my weakness. Sometimes I heard s.h.i.+t going b.u.mp in the night. Could be my imagination, could be real, but either way, it would make me feel better if I had a defense system made of about two hundred pounds of testosterone and a .357 Magnum by his side.

Five minutes after that I had stripped down to boy shorts and a tank top.

Out of habit, I turned on my speakerphone and checked my messages while I signed onto AOL. Always had to check my e-mail. My buddy list popped up and I saw that Livvy was still logged on. It was almost midnight here. I sent her an instant message, told her that we had been hanging out and we missed her. She sent a smiley face. I asked if she had insomnia, or needed me to call so we could talk. Actually, I was the one who needed conversation. It took her two minutes to answer and tell me that she was chatting with somebody. I sent her a smiley face and asked who.

No response.

I asked her to call me and let me know about her flight so somebody could pick her up.

No response.

I checked my cyber mail: forty-two spams and twelve e-mails from other dating hopefuls.

A few other people on my buddy list were floating around in that cyber mesosphere. Pretty soon I was juggling somewhere between six and eight screens, at least five of them guys, two of them former booty calls, trying to decide if I was going to lower myself to my C-list and let one of them come over and tie me to a bedpost. Could use a good tongue bath and toe sucking right about now.

I'd kicked off my shoes and been online an hour when another IM popped in my screen.

"Glad to see you're home safe." It was my fugly date. "I was waiting for your call."

I didn't respond.

Livvy was still online, not responding to my IMs. Her away message still wasn't on. After four in the morning on the East Coast and she was still online chatting with somebody.

Another message from Fugly popped in my screen: "I would like to see you again."

I signed off.