Concrete Rose, page 10
Ms. Montgomery is the theater teacher at Midtown School of the Arts. That explain why that woman dramatic as hell. “Oh, that’s cool.”
“Yeah. I’m glad it keeps her off my back.”
“You know damn well that won’t last long. At least you don’t gotta deal with Carlos, right?”
“Thank God, he’s back at college. Won’t see him until Thanksgiving. I’m trying to convince him to bring his girlfriend so he’ll be too distracted to get in my business.”
“Whaaat? Carlton Banks got a girlfriend?”
Lisa push my head. “Stop calling him that!”
“Ay, he is like Carlton. Surprised he got enough game to get a girlfriend.”
“Apparently he does. Her name is Pam, and she’s premed. She’s supersweet, although I don’t know what she sees in my brother.”
“Damn,” I say. “Your corny brother actually got a girlfriend.”
“Whatever, Maverick.” She hop up from the couch. “I’m gonna get changed. Feel free to get something from the kitchen if you want.”
She actually letting me stay. “Thank you.”
Lisa give me the tiniest smile. “You’re welcome.”
She go off to her room, and I help myself to the kitchen. I’m thirsty as hell. Ms. Montgomery keep her cabinets and refrigerator stacked. I find all kinds of drinks and liquor. Lisa’s momma know how to throw them back.
I pop open a Pepsi and wander down the hall. Lisa take her bun down at her bedroom mirror. I say she fine all the time (that ass looking right in that dress, goddamn), but this girl straight-up beautiful.
She catch me staring. “What?”
I lean against the doorway and sip my drink. “Nothing. Watching you.”
“So you can learn how to do your hair? Because clearly you haven’t combed that mess on your head.”
“Why you hating?”
“Why do you hate yourself?” She put her comb in my hair, and it get stuck. I wince as she snatch it out. “Damn, Maverick. When was the last time you brushed your hair?”
“I got a ’fro now!”
“So? You need to brush it, comb it, take care of it. Bet you haven’t washed it since I did those cornrows, have you?”
“I take showers!”
Lisa’s mouth make a line. “That’s not enough. You need shampoo, conditioner.”
“That’s girl shit.”
“Tell that to your dirty hair. Go to the bathroom.”
“Lisa—”
She point across the hall. “Go!”
Damn, she tripping. I go to the bathroom, take off my shirt and tie, and kneel beside the bathtub.
Lisa sit on the side of it and grab the handheld showerhead. She turn the water on. “This doesn’t make any sense, Maverick. Seriously.”
“It ain’t that ba— Aaagh!” She spray water in my face, strangling me. “Ay!”
“Oops, sorry,” Lisa claims. “I’ll warn you next time.”
A lie. “You worse than my momma. She not tripping ’bout my hair.”
“Mrs. Carter is grieving. She’s probably not paying attention to your hair.” Lisa massage the shampoo into my scalp. I can’t front, that feel good. “I’m surprised Mr. Wyatt lets you come to work looking like this.”
“You know I work for him?”
“My momma told me,” Lisa says. “Said you bagged her groceries one day.”
Oh yeah, I did. She gave me the dirtiest look. That’s saying something, ’cause Ms. Montgomery done gave me plenty of dirty looks. “What she telling you for? You tryna keep up with your boy?”
“Nope!” Lisa spray my face again.
“Ay!” I scream as she laugh. “Stop playing, girl!”
“Sorry,” she lie again. She massage more shampoo in. “Since you’re working for Mr. Wyatt, does this mean you gave up drug dealing?”
“Yeah. I got a son to think ’bout now. Wanna be around for him. Can’t lie though, between that job and taking care of him, I’m tired as hell.”
“Doesn’t Iesha help take care of him?”
“Nah, she needed a break. I’ve had him since the day I found out he mine.”
Lisa quietly rinse the shampoo outta my hair. “What’s his name?”
“Who, my son? I named him Seven.”
“Seven? You did not name that baby after a number, Maverick. Oh my God.”
“It’s the number of perfection!” I always gotta explain that. “He perfect. It make sense.”
Smells like she pour something else into my hair. Conditioning or whatever that stuff is. “Okay, when you put it like that it’s kinda sweet.”
“Thank you. Plus, it’s unique. Now, if I gave him a plain-ass name like Connor— Agh!”
Lisa sprayed my face again.
“That was on purpose,” she says. “Not sorry.”
“It is a plain-ass name! Can’t believe you went from me to him.”
“Um, you are not all that, sir. Calm down,” she says. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m not with Connor.”
“Oh.” My lips turn up a little. Yeah, she dissed me, but she not with Richie Rich. “He ain’t got no game, huh?”
“That’s none of your business as well.”
I snort. “Your answer say it all. I knew he was whack— Ow!”
She popped me with the showerhead. “That was on purpose, too.”
I rub the back of my head. “You mad ’cause I’m right.”
Lisa dry my hair off and take me to her room. I sit on her bed, and she kneel behind me to see over my head. She run the comb through hard.
I wince. “Damn, girl! Why you so rough?”
“Had you done this yourself, it wouldn’t be this bad. Be still.”
“I am still. You rough as hell,” I say. She hold the comb at the edge of my scalp, near the middle of my forehead, then comb through my hair from there. She call that making a part. “You gon’ cornrow it?”
“No, that’ll take too long. I’m gonna put it in a ponytail.”
“A’ight… Thank you for doing this.”
She put my hair in a ponytail. “You’re welcome. That’ll be two hundred dollars.”
“Two hundred dollars?” I say. “You strangled me and abused me!”
“Nobody abused you!”
“You hit me with the showerhead, and you snatched my hair!”
“I did not snatch your hair!” Lisa says. “You’re tender-headed.”
“I ain’t tender-headed.”
“Right, like you swear you’re not ticklish,” Lisa says.
“I ain’t!”
She try to tickle my underarm. I hop off the bed.
“Ay, girl! Stop!”
Lisa smirk. “I thought you weren’t ticklish.”
“I ain’t. But you are.”
I pounce her on the bed and tickle the hell outta her. She laugh her ass off, and she got me laughing. Them pretty brown eyes meet mine, and we stop.
Nobody else exist.
I look at her lips, and I ain’t never wanted to do anything more than I wanna kiss them right now. So shit, I go for it.
Lisa kiss me right back.
It’s been a long time since we did this. We can’t kiss fast enough, can’t keep our hands off each other. It’s like she hit me with jumper cables. My whole body on fire.
“Damn,” I mumble, and look down. It’s real obvious I’m into this.
Lisa look at it, too. Then she look me in the eye and unzip my pants.
It’s on.
I help her get out that dress, and she help me get my pants off. We both down to nothing when we slide under her covers. I’m ready to put it down.
“Shit!” I hiss, and raise up. “I don’t got a rubber.”
Lisa sit up a little. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. I ain’t have no reason to keep them on me. You on the pill, right?”
“No. Had no reason to be.”
For a few seconds, our heavy breathing the only sound in the room.
The way she feel against me … it’s driving me outta my mind. “I could be careful—”
“If you pull out before you—”
We spoke at the same time. Our eyes lock, and, goddamn, I want her bad.
“Do you wanna do this?” I ask.
Lisa bite her lip. “Yeah. Do you?”
I never wanted anything more in my life. “Yeah.”
Lisa pull me back down and kiss my neck. “Then be careful.”
That’s all I need to hear.
PART 2
GROWTH
CHAPTER 12
Damn. That was wild.
Me and Lisa lying in her bed, all sweaty and panting. We went at it for hours. A’ight, an hour. A’ight, a’ight, more like fifteen, twenty, ten minutes. Either way, I did the damn thing.
This was the first time we ever had sex without protection. I see what the homies mean, it do feel different. I was careful though, just like I said I’d be.
I brush Lisa’s hair back and kiss her forehead. Your boy made her sweat them baby hairs out. Hell yeah. “Damn, I missed you.”
She cuddle up against me. “I can’t lie, I missed you, too.”
“I could tell, the way you were screaming.”
Lisa smack my chest. “You play too much!”
I smirk. She can’t deny the truth.
I close my eyes. Lying here with Lisa, there ain’t no gunshots. There ain’t no dead cousins. There’s only us.
Till a car hum into the driveway.
Lisa sit straight up. “Oh, shit! My momma!”
Shit!
We jump outta bed. Lisa throw on a T-shirt and shorts, and I throw on my pants. Damn, wait, my boxers. Gotta put on my boxers.
The front door open. “I’m home,” Ms. Montgomery call out. “Come help me get these groceries out the car.”
Shit, shit, shit.
Lisa shove me toward her window and push me halfway outta it. “Go!” she hiss, then holler, “Be there in a minute, Momma!”
“Wait,” I say, straddling the ledge. “I love you. See you later this week?” I lean over to get a kiss.
Lisa step back, biting her bottom lip. “I … I’m sorry about Dre.”
Hold up. Did she – is she swerving me? “Lisa—”
She give me a slight nudge, and I hit the grass in her backyard. Lisa close the window behind me and let her momma know she coming.
I glance around. I can’t go out the front gate or Ms. Montgomery gon’ see me. Can’t go down the driveway, she’ll see me. I climb over their fence and into the yard behind theirs. A Rottweiler charge at me, and I almost piss myself. Thank God a chain hold it back. I go out the gate, hauling ass down the street.
It’s the next day, and I don’t understand what went down with Lisa.
I thought we was cool again. I mean damn, she let me hit. Told me she missed me. I tell her I love her and try to make plans, and she push me out the window? I tried to call her once I got home, but she still got my number blocked.
Girls confusing as hell, man. I almost called Dre to get his advice. He always know how to help me with Lisa.
Then I remembered.
Life without him won’t ever be normal.
I’m working in Mr. Wyatt’s store today. Usually I’m off on Sundays, but Mr. Wyatt’s nephew, Jamal, couldn’t come in today, and I told Mr. Wyatt I could. I gotta do something to keep Dre outta my head. Plus, let’s be real, your boy need the money. I hate to think how my check gon’ look after a week off from work.
Ma agreed to watch Seven for me. Said she’d love some time with her Man-Man. I bet she need a distraction, and babies good at helping you forget death. Probably ’cause they so new.
Mr. Wyatt got a long list to keep me busy. First I gotta mop the floors, and then he want me to restock the shelves. After that I’ll put his sales posters in the windows. He running a special on pork chops and turnip greens. Once that’s done, he say he got a whole ’nother list for me.
Meanwhile, he out on the sidewalk with Mr. Lewis and Mr. Reuben. Mr. Reuben own the barbecue joint across the street. The three of them laughing and talking like they ain’t got businesses to run. I guess that’s how it go when you the boss. Other people do the hard work, and you hang with your homies. Shit, I’m tryna get like them.
I dip the mop into the bucket and slap it onto the floor. I mopped all the aisles, and now I’m in the back, near the office. Mr. Wyatt want the floors to shine so bright you can see your reflection.
The phone ring in the office. I put down the Wet Floor sign, so why I dash toward his office like I don’t know it’s slippery? Almost bust my ass.
And it’s the wrong damn number. The lady catch an attitude when I tell her this ain’t the Church’s Chicken on Magnolia. Hope she get bubble guts. I start to put the phone down, but I stop.
I bet Lisa ain’t blocked the number to the store.
I see the sidewalk real good from here. Mr. Wyatt busy running his mouth with his friends. He won’t notice me using his office phone.
I quickly dial Lisa’s number. Oh, hell yeah, the phone ring. She didn’t block my work number. It ring again and again and then—
“Hello?”
Gah-lee. It’s Ms. Montgomery.
When Lisa’s momma met me, she gave me one hard glare and been giving me that same hard glare ever since. She think I’m a no-good thug and done grounded Lisa plenty of times to keep us apart. Lisa would sneak out to see me anyway, and it only led to her momma hating me more.
I clear my throat. No matter how much Ms. Montgomery don’t like me, Ma told me to show her respect regardless. “Hi, Ms. Montgomery. How you doing?”
“Well, look who it is,” she says. “Mr. I-Get-Other-Girls-Pregnant. You got some nerve, calling my daughter after what you did.”
Show respect, show respect. “I’m sorry, Ms. Montgomery. Is it okay if I speak to Lisa?”
“You don’t have a damn thing to speak to her about. Lisa is done with you! Your li’l thuggish, ruggish, bonehead behind bet’ not come near her or I’ve got something for you. Do I make myself clear?”
“Ms. Montgomery—”
She hang up. Goddamn, she just had to be the one to answer the phone.
The bell on the door ding up front. I hurry outta Mr. Wyatt’s office as him and Mr. Lewis step into the store. I grab the mop and get back to work like I never stopped.
Mr. Lewis eye me suspiciously. “Boy, you ain’t finished mopping yet? You slow as hell. Jamal would’ve finished by now. I don’t know why you put up with this, Clarence.”
I can’t stand Mr. Lewis, for real. He always tripping. You come in his shop with your pants sagging, he make you leave. You rep King Lords or Garden Disciples, don’t come through the door. He wouldn’t cut Pops’s hair, and everybody love Pops. Mr. Lewis on some ol’ bullshit.
“Since when did I ask for your opinion on my employee, Cletus?” Mr. Wyatt ask.
Cletus? This fool named Cletus?
“You need somebody’s opinion,” Mr. Lewis says. “Hurry up, boy! You oughta hop in my chair and let me cut that mess off your head.”
“Somebody need to cut that mess off yours,” I mumble, ’cause his Jheri-curl ass don’t need to talk ’bout nobody’s hair.
“What was that?” he ask.
“Nothing, Mr. Lewis.”
He go, “Uh-huh,” like he not convinced. “It’s ridiculous that you done made Faye a grandma, as young as she is. Ri-damn-diculous. You know how to use a condom? I can give you some tips. I know they say them lambskin ones feel good but—”
Aww hell nah, I’m not having this conversation with him. Hell nah. “You want me to sweep the curb, Mr. Wyatt?”
Mr. Wyatt’s lips twitch like he wanna laugh. “That would be nice.”
I grab the broom out the storage room and walk outside so damn fast.
Marigold pretty calm on Sundays. Reuben’s the busiest place on the block. Folks come in and out in dresses and suits, looking straight outta church. Me and Ma only go to church for funerals. Ma say she don’t need a building to be close to God.
A couple of girls come outta Reuben’s in clothes so tight, I doubt they went to church. One of them is Lala, Iesha’s best friend. The other is Iesha.
I drop the broom and run across the street. “Yo, Iesha!”
She look dead at me, dead at me, and I swear she walk faster.
What the hell? I catch up with her and grab her arm. “Ay—”
She snatch away. “Get your hands off of me!”
“Oh hell no! Don’t be grabbing my girl!” Lala shouts.
I put my hands up. Never get two Black girls riled up. Shit, don’t get one riled up. “I ain’t mean nothing by it, I swear. Iesha, where you been?”
She look at Lala. “Go on, girl. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.”
Lala give me a stank eye. She brush past me and go on her way.
Iesha hug herself tight. “How’s my baby?”
“You gon’ answer my question? Where you been? Your momma said you moved out.”
“I did. She was getting on my nerves. I been staying with different friends. Being homeless ain’t good for a baby. That’s why I haven’t come and got him.”
Hold up. She standing up here with hair and nails freshly done, wearing new FILA sneakers and Tommy Hilfiger clothes. “I’m really supposed to believe you homeless?”
“You can believe what you wanna believe, Maverick! I’m telling the truth!”
Fine. Besides, Ma says poor don’t always look the same. “Okay then. You homeless. That don’t explain why you haven’t visited Seven.”
“Seven?” she says. “What the hell is a Seven?”
“That’s our son’s new name.”
“Hold up, how you gon’ rename my baby without asking me?”
“It’s obviously not official yet, since I need you for that, but it’s the name he answer to now. He don’t need to be named after King no way. He my son.”
“So you named him after a number?”
Once again, I gotta explain. “Seven is the number of perfection. He perfect, ain’t he?”
Iesha’s eyes get dim. They drift down to concrete. “He too perfect for a momma who couldn’t handle him.”
