Brooklyn, page 24
They stayed in the penthouse suite of the hotel. Hassan sat in a chair by the window sipping some Hennessy while he waited for Brooklyn to finish getting ready.
“You look good,” he said, stepping into the room. He admired her legs in the short black dress she wore. “I like your hair like that.” He walked over and kissed the back of her neck. “Makes me want to bend you over and hit it from the back.”
“Put your dick away,” she said, laughing. “We’re late.”
“It’s not my fault this time. I’ve been ready.”
She grabbed her earrings and her purse and slid her feet into her red Jimmy Choos.
They took her car, but Hassan drove. He had bought a new Mercedes for her the year prior. He slid the seat back and laughed.
“I forgot you drove to the pharmacy earlier. I don’t understand how women drive all close to the wheel like that. My mother does the same thing. Why do you need to be that close for?”
She laughed and buckled her seat belt. “I need to see the road. You might as well be driving from the back seat!” She gestured at the angle he had reclined to. She got comfortable as they drove to Angel’s house.
“Do me a favor, Hass. Please be nice to Angel’s friends. Especially Renee. She likes to make slick comments. I try to ignore her. Please do the same. Don’t say anything that you know is gonna set her off.”
Hassan made an innocent face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Last time you saw her, you asked if she meant to do her hair like that.” Brooklyn laughed. “I don’t like her, either. But this is Angel’s engagement party and it’s her night. I don’t want us to be the ones to spoil it.”
Hassan nodded. “I got you.”
“Be nice to Josiah, too.”
“I’m nice to him all the time.”
“You pick on him on the low. Asking him what’s the name of his sneakers or where you can find pants like that.”
Hassan laughed. “Okay. So, I won’t talk to him then. Because we don’t have nothing in common. He don’t watch sports. What you want me to ask him about? His job?”
“Yeah. What’s wrong with that?”
“He’s a fuckin’ cook.”
“He’s a chef,” she corrected. “At a very fancy restaurant now.”
Hassan rolled his eyes. “I’ll ask him about that then.”
They were fifteen minutes late when they got there, something Renee was quick to point out when they sat down at the table.
“Thank you for joining us!” she sang.
Brooklyn shot her a warning look that Renee promptly ignored.
“We got started without you. Josiah was just telling us how he’ll be paying off Angel’s ring until their kids are in college.”
Hassan groaned. Already, Renee was on his nerves. She was so pretentious, always counting other people’s money, mentally tallying up the cost of their outfits, sizing them up to decide how much respect to give them. Of all of Brooklyn’s friends, he liked Renee the least.
Renee’s husband Franklin sat by her side looking annoyed by her as usual. He quickly tried to shift the subject.
“Good to see you guys. Brooklyn and Hassan, how are things with your family back in New York? Is everybody safe and accounted for? Ground Zero looks like a war zone.”
Brooklyn nodded. “Yes, thank you for asking. Everyone is okay.”
“Do you have a big family?” Renee asked. “You don’t talk about them too much.”
Brooklyn scooped some pasta onto her plate. “I check in on them,” she said. “Like I said, everybody’s fine.”
Josiah cleared his throat. “We want to thank all of you for coming tonight. Me and Angel are so excited to have something positive to celebrate. And we’re happy you’re here with us.”
They all clinked glasses and congratulated the newly engaged couple.
“Josiah, this food is delicious. As always.” Brooklyn smiled at him.
“Thank you,” he said, proudly. “I tried something new this time. I’m getting more adventurous in the kitchen.”
“That’s good,” Kia said. “Try new things! We’ll be your guinea pigs.”
Brooklyn agreed. “I wish I could cook like this. I try sometimes.”
“Me too,” Angel said. “I fail every time.”
Josiah laughed. “It’s not that bad. But we agreed that after we’re married I’ll do the cooking and she’ll take care of the cleaning.”
Brooklyn and Angel laughed.
“I know it’s early,” Kia said. “But have you started discussing wedding dates yet?”
Josiah shook his head quickly. “Too soon.”
Hassan laughed involuntarily and Josiah and Franklin joined in.
Brooklyn, Angel, and Kia exchanged glances.
Renee defended the men.
“They act like they’re in no rush to set a date, but men love being married. Having a wife is a sign of a good man.” She rubbed Franklin’s hand, sweetly. She set her sights on Hassan. “You two have been together a while. You ever think about popping the question?”
Hassan stared at her, grateful that she couldn’t read his mind. He thought she was one of the most miserable bitches he had ever met. “Nah.”
Brooklyn tried not to laugh. She knew that Hassan didn’t mean it. They had discussed marriage several times. It was clear that he was fed up with Renee’s constant jabs.
“Marriage isn’t for everybody,” Josiah said. “Me and Angel want to have kids. And her parents expect her to be married before she starts a family. So, this is the next step for us. But that doesn’t mean it’s the right thing for everybody.”
Hassan nodded. “Exactly.”
Kia agreed. “I started going to church to try to find me a man. So far, no luck. But I got my eye on the guy who drives the church van. He’s cute.”
Brooklyn laughed. “Stay away from the church men,” she warned. “They’re the biggest womanizers.”
“You don’t strike me as the churchgoing type,” Renee quipped.
Brooklyn’s eyes darted in her direction, and she smiled at Renee, sinisterly. “Yes, lord. I’ll quote the Bible to a heathen in a heartbeat! Which church do you go to? The House of Judas?”
Josiah nearly spit out his wine. He coughed as Angel patted his back.
Hassan glanced at Brooklyn. He wasn’t sure what Brooklyn had just said to Renee. But, judging from the look on her face, she had just told her to fuck off in the name of Jesus.
“Oh, wow,” Renee said, clutching at her chest, dramatically.
“Yeah, wow.” Brooklyn glared at her.
Renee opened her mouth to say something slick, but Josiah cut her off.
“I can tell this bachelorette party is going to be one for the history books.”
Laughter erupted around the table again.
Hassan nodded. “Have y’all seen Brooklyn when she’s drunk? Y’all are about to go to jail!”
Renee looked at him, smiling. “Have you ever been to jail, Hassan?”
The question was so rude, unexpected, and unwarranted that all conversation ceased. The thickness of it hung in the silence between them. It had been this way since the moment Brooklyn stepped on the scene. While she and Angel bonded, Renee seemed to grow increasingly threatened by their friendship. Brooklyn had always been aware of it. Renee was envious of her wardrobe, her car, and seemingly Brooklyn’s entire being. She took every opportunity to make digs about the questionable way Brooklyn and Hassan made money. But Brooklyn had prayed that tonight would be different.
Franklin looked at his wife. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked.
Renee feigned innocence. “What did I say?” She frowned. “It’s just a question.” She looked at Brooklyn. “I could ask you, too. It’s an innocent question.”
Brooklyn stared back at her for a moment. Then she looked at Angel and Josiah, apologetically.
“We’re gonna go.”
Josiah shook his head. “Don’t do that.”
Brooklyn shook her head. “No. This is your night.” She pointed at Renee without looking at her. “She’s your friend. And you deserve to enjoy yourself. I’ll call you guys tomorrow.”
Hassan was already at the door.
Renee was apologizing under her breath, still pretending not to understand what she had done to ruin the mood.
“Let me walk you out,” Angel said, rising from her seat at the table. “But before you go, Brooklyn, let me say something. You’re my friend. I love you and I want to celebrate this next chapter of my life with all of my friends.” She glared at Renee, thoroughly pissed. “It’s not about how long I’ve known you or how much history we have. I love you for who you are and how you support me as my friend. Thank you for coming tonight.”
She walked over to Brooklyn and hugged her tightly. Josiah gave Hassan a handshake and they walked them out.
At the door, Angel apologized again.
“You shouldn’t be sorry,” Brooklyn said. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Renee’s a hater. She can’t help it.”
In the car, Hassan shrugged it off. “Franklin gotta have a side chick, right?”
Brooklyn nodded as they pulled out of the circular driveway.
“I like the way Angel came to your defense,” he said. “Renee likes to fuck with you because she’s territorial. She wants Angel to be her friend only. Tonight, Angel stood up for you. That was dope.”
Brooklyn smiled, comforted by that. She tried to remember the last time anyone stood up for her. The fact that she came up empty filled her eyes with tears.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Whirlwind
Brooklyn wasn’t sure what it was about that dinner conversation that shifted things for her. Not just with Angel and her friends, but with her adopted family in Harlem.
She began to pay more attention to the gulf between her and the ladies. Missy and Wally would be welcoming a baby later that summer. Unbeknownst to Brooklyn, Carla decided to throw an early baby shower of sorts while Missy was in New York visiting her mother.
Brooklyn was shocked to learn that she hadn’t been invited. None of them had even mentioned it until after it was over.
They were all gathered at a barbecue in Candy’s backyard when she heard them discussing it.
“Missy looked gorgeous!” Candy exclaimed. She fawned over Missy as they passed the newly developed pictures around. “That lavender was so pretty against your skin tone. I think you should wear that same color to your real shower.”
Brooklyn listened to the ladies chatter on about the charcuterie tray, the champagne tower, and the ice sculpture and frowned.
“Why wasn’t I invited?” Brooklyn asked.
Missy sipped her lemonade.
Candy held her hands up, defensively. “I got the invite at the last minute.”
Brooklyn looked at Carla. She smiled back at her, guiltily.
“Girl, I didn’t want to bother you. I knew you were busy with Stacey and everything. I didn’t think you had time.”
Brooklyn chewed her food and knew that Carla was full of shit. She listened as Missy launched into a story about the perils of her last prenatal appointment.
Brooklyn slowly began to withdraw then. She reluctantly started to accept that holding the keys to Hassan’s heart had ostracized her from people closest to him. Maybe it was her ambition that intimidated them. All she knew for sure was that she had fewer allies than she once believed. It hurt because they had become her family in the years since she had abandoned her own.
Once again, Brooklyn felt like an outsider. It reminded her of the feeling she had standing in her family home while it seemed like her whole family gathered around her in condemnation. She began questioning whether she ever truly fit in with Missy and Carla. She knew that they had never really seen her as one of them. Brooklyn was getting money with the fellas instead of posturing and posing with the girls. She felt the same thing happening again with Angel’s friends. Despite the years she had spent in their midst, Renee took every opportunity to remind Brooklyn that she wasn’t one of them. She didn’t have a prestigious career or a dream home. She was a gate-crasher to them, an impostor.
She began to question all of her relationships then, asking herself if she was disposable to everyone. Brooklyn went into survival mode.
She had been hustling since she was seventeen. Now she had more money to her name than most of her peers. Drugs were a lucrative business. But there was no denying that it was a volatile one, too. Some years had been better than others and lately the competition was tough. Chance and the other Baltimore hustlers weren’t buying as much as they used to, and Stacey had been forced to accept less than she once demanded for her product. The profit margins were much slimmer than before. Brooklyn began to quietly reevaluate everything.
Through the years, she had built an especially close bond with Stacey. As Roscoe’s older sister and the leader of their crew, she offered a wise and informed perspective to all of them about the things they were witnessing and the situations they found themselves navigating. While Missy and Carla were in relationships with hustlers, Stacey didn’t date the boys in the hood. In fact, Brooklyn had never known her to be romantically involved with anyone. Stacey was someone they all relied on to keep them on track.
She often broke it down for Brooklyn.
“Don’t think this life will last forever. Ask yourself how many retired hustlers you know. I hear you and Hass talking about starting that beauty salon barbershop thing. And I think that’s dope. I wish y’all the best. But I want you to be realistic. Hass is probably never gonna stop hustling. I doubt that you will either. Even if you make the most successful business imaginable. The life he’s living is an addiction. There’s a thrill we get when we go out there in those streets. When we pick up and drop off drugs and count money until the wee hours of the morning. This shit is a thrill. How do you work a regular job after this? I watched niggas try to leave the game countless times! No matter how many times we get arrested, robbed, or come close to getting killed, we keep going back to it. We’re all addicted.”
Brooklyn heard the truth in Stacey’s words but prayed that she was the exception to the rule. She needed to believe that this life wasn’t a trap.
When she asked Hassan about it, he assured her that Stacey didn’t know what she was talking about.
“Everybody’s not the same,” he insisted. “I’m not planning on doing this shit forever. As soon as we find the right spot, we’re setting up shop and never looking back.”
Brooklyn tried to believe him. But there was a voice inside of her reminding her that she was her own hero. She didn’t need to wait for Hassan to decide that the time was right. She was ready for a change of scenery now.
On her next trip to Baltimore, she met with Chance as usual. He was alone this time.
Their interactions were far more relaxed now than they once were. Chance always complimented Brooklyn, flirting with her the same way Hassan had done in the beginning of their courtship. Unlike Hassan, Chance had no loyalty to anybody for long. Through the years, Brooklyn saw so many of his crew members come and go that she had lost count. Often, she encountered those same workers in Baltimore’s streets, and they all had the same complaints about Chance. He cut corners, paid little, and only looked out for himself.
To Brooklyn, those weren’t necessarily negative traits. In their line of business, survival was the common goal. Chance was a survivor. So was she.
He took her for breakfast at a restaurant his aunt owned. He had no crew with him when he arrived to pick her up at the hotel just after 9 A.M.
His black Pathfinder was clean and smelled like vanilla. Brooklyn greeted him as she climbed inside.
“Good morning. I see you’re an early bird like me!”
“Good morning. The early bird gets the worm.” He drove off to the restaurant.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“My aunt owns a spot out in my hood. She cooks better than anybody I know, including my mama. So I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“Okay! Don’t let your mama hear you say that.”
“She would whoop my ass!”
They both laughed.
They discussed music and celebrity gossip during the short drive. When they arrived at the restaurant, he held the door for her as she stepped inside. The place was bright and airy, and the scent of the delicious food made Brooklyn’s mouth water instantly.
“What’s up, Chance?” A woman yelled out from the kitchen.
“Hey, Auntie!” He walked over and gave her a kiss. Then he returned to Brooklyn’s side. “Come on. Let’s sit down.” He led her to a table in the back, explaining that it was his favorite. “When I sit here, I can see who’s coming.”
She sat down and perused the menu. “Everything smells so good. I want all of it.”
“You can’t go wrong. No matter what you order.”
When the waitress came, he ordered chicken and waffles while Brooklyn got the shrimp and grits. They brought out biscuits for them to nibble on while they waited, and Brooklyn gobbled hers, hungrily.
“Damn.” Chance laughed. “Your man ain’t feeding you good enough.”
She wiped the crumbs from her shirt and giggled.
“Speaking of eating, we both know the money is slowing up out here in these streets.”
Brooklyn nodded. “I used to make these trips to see you at least twice a month. Lately, I hardly see you.”
“That’s because Stacey is being hardheaded. Much as I look forward to seeing your fine ass strutting through Baltimore, lately I’m working with niggas from other places with better prices.”
“Not better product though,” Brooklyn assured him. “Stacey’s shit is better than whatever you’re getting elsewhere. I’ll bet you that.”
