Never Again, No More 6, page 12
“You’ll see when you get there. I have better things to do with my time than keep track of your visitor’s list.”
Man, I really couldn’t deal with a hundred and one years of this bullshit right here. Really. I exhaled loudly as we walked.
“You know you drug dealers are all alike. You swear you own the world and are the toughest people on the planet. If you’d put that knowledge and power to some good, then you wouldn’t have to go around trying to prove shit to the world. You’d be somebody who was genuinely respected,” the CO preached.
“Miss me with that ‘We are the World’ speech. You can’t group me with nobody else ’cause you don’t know me. And it’s some people who use their knowledge and power for good and still can’t get respect.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, inmate,” he said, pulling on my cuffs. “Respect is earned, not given.”
“Well, you have to give it first to get it.”
He pointed a finger in my face. “That attitude is why you’re gonna fail. Not because you have a different way of thinking, but because you don’t respect anybody else’s way of thinking,” he said as we stopped at a private visiting room.
Ignoring him, I focused on who was visiting me and deduced that it had to be Stein. He opened the door, let me in, and closed it. I was shocked as hell to see who I was seeing.
Plopping down in the chair in front of me, I was almost at a loss for words. “Terrence?”
“Yeah, not who you expected, huh?” he asked coolly.
Furrowing my brow, I asked, “How did you get in here to see me? You’re not on my visitor’s list. And how the hell did you get a private room?”
He put his hand up to silence me. “Don’t worry about any of that. The mere fact that I can do it is all you need to be concerned with.”
Who the fuck? “What the fuck does that mean?”
He eyed me for a moment, and I knew his thoughts were running through his mind like calculations. The one-up he had on me was that he had always been a thinker. Sometimes I allowed my anger to consume me and rushed into things, but not him. Even in his highest level of anger, he remained calm, only exerting force when direly necessary. If I was a bitch-ass nigga, I might admire that quality, but because I wasn’t, it only pissed me off.
He licked his lips and breathed out. “It means that as much as you can touch me, I can touch you, too, nigga. Feel me on that first and foremost. Now, I don’t know what you said to my shorty to make her agree to that shit in the first place, but it ain’t going down. Since I know your attorney has already hipped you to that information, let me hip you to some more.”
He paused and leaned forward, never breaking eye contact with me.
See! Do you see? This right here was exactly why I couldn’t turn over this Christian leaf. This nigga did not just come to prison to let me know he could get at me. I know he didn’t do that. Kind of made me wish I’d saved a couple of bullets for his ass the same way his cousin did. No sense of muthafuckin’ loyalty. If I had shot off on him, he’d surely be dead. The fucked-up part was this nigga actually shot me, and he was still breathing. Not just because he pulled through his surgery, but because I vowed not to fuck with him. I didn’t need to die because being locked up in here and not being able to “touch” this nigga, as he could put it, was a slow enough death.
My jaw locked tight, and I pursed my lips. “What other information are you gonna so-called hip me to?”
“If you come near me or my family, whether you’re in or out of prison, you’re gonna wish you would’ve died up in that hospital. In your words, I need you to uh, how does it go? Remember that shit,” he sneered with an air of cockiness about him.
Flicking the tip of my nose, I asked, “Oh yeah, my nigga?”
His eyebrow raised, and I took the opportunity to let my feelings be known.
“Well, listen to this and be clear,” I said. “I don’t give a fuck about you the same way you don’t give a fuck about me. It is what it is. If you gon’ do something, do it. Don’t talk about it. Be about it. But this is the shit I want you to remember. I gave you and my baby’s mama a free pass back at that storage. I gave you life, even though you tried to take mine. Playtime and passes are up, muthafucka. Do what you gotta do, and I’ll do what I gotta do. But mark my fuckin’ words. I will get out of here whether your bitch helps me or not, and when I do, we’ll finish this conversation then.”
Terrence rubbed his goatee, smiling sinisterly. “Indeed, we will.” He stood up and called for the guard. “You can take your inmate back. I’m done.”
As the CO was coming to cuff me, Terrence limped out of the door.
“Later.” I chucked up the deuces at him.
He chuckled. “Later.”
“Ready, inmate?” the CO asked.
I simply glared at the CO, who shrugged and prepared to take me back.
“Are you going to bible study tonight?” he asked as we prepared to leave.
I shook my head. “Nah. I’m too much of a sinner to be a fucking saint.”
Chapter 11
Aldris
Ever felt like you were just going through the motions? Like you were living your life, the life you’ve always wanted, but it still just didn’t feel like enough? Or you didn’t feel like you were doing all that you wanted or needed to be doing? That’s how I felt these days. My life was good. I’d venture to say great even, but at times I just—I don’t know—felt like it wasn’t enough. I prayed to God every night for that feeling to go away and to renew a vibrant spirit within me.
The night before, Jennifer had spent the night with me. My mother watched Jessica, so we could enjoy some alone time together. Dinner and a movie at the house were the perfect ways to end the evening.
Deep down, I knew the real reason Jennifer wanted to stay with me. She wanted me to help her with some wedding plans, which was exactly why I was procrastinating with getting dressed the next day. I didn’t feel like going out. I wanted to lounge in my bed and chill out. However, I finally dressed so I wouldn’t have to hear Jennifer’s fussing.
Every time I turned around, Jennifer had me looking at this or choosing that. The wedding was the woman’s deal, and I didn’t mind picking some things, like my tuxes or my groom’s cake, but she was treating me like I was her mother or matron of honor. Where the hell were those two at? Shouldn’t they be the ones cackling and helping her with this wedding-day bliss? Hell, I’d even appreciate it if she’d ask my mother. And, as I thought about it, it rubbed me the wrong way that she didn’t include my mother in any of the plans. Lucinda had included my mom and her mom along with her girls. She had made the planning special for both of us.
Wow. Did I really just think that? Fuck. I’ve got to stop doing that.
Jennifer was not Lucinda, and Lucinda was not Jennifer. I wasn’t trying to compare the two. I’m just saying that I believe the manner in which Lucinda handled the planning was better than Jennifer. She really was wrong not to include my mother, though. I didn’t give a damn how she sliced it.
“Are you ready yet?” Jennifer asked as she walked into my bedroom. “I’ve paced a hole in the carpet waiting on you. We have an appointment to keep.”
“Would you stop stressing? I just finished getting dressed. A couple of sprays of cologne and I’m all good. I don’t see what the big deal is. We’re just tasting some wedding cake. Hell, I thought all wedding cake tasted the same anyway.”
Jennifer rolled her eyes. “No, it doesn’t. Does all pound cake taste the same?”
“It does if it’s made right,” I mumbled.
“I heard that.”
“I’m just saying.”
She huffed. “I mean, it’s our cake for our day. We should taste it to see if we want different flavors like strawberry or lemon, and the type of icing we should get. That’s what this is all about. It’s supposed to be fun and special.”
By the time she finished her rant, I’d finished up, and we were heading out the door.
“I just don’t see how special it’s gonna be when we are probably only gonna get to taste a forkful when we feed each other. By the time we get back from our honeymoon, that cake is gonna be as good as gone.”
Ignoring me, she continued to walk ahead toward the car. “Well, I want to make sure my forkful is exactly what I want.”
“You didn’t water the plant?”
“Huh?” She stopped in her tracks and turned to look at me.
I pointed to the plant that Lucinda and I had begun growing. “It’s dry. You didn’t water it yesterday like I asked you to.”
She hit her forehead. “No, I forgot, but we don’t have time for that. Besides, you know I don’t have a green thumb. I leave that shit for you and your mother.”
“Hold up. It’ll only take a second. Go ahead and get in the car.”
She stomped. “Really, Al? For a damn plant? We really don’t have the time.”
“Hey, you want me to make time for cake tasting. I’m going to make time to water a plant.” I turned on the hose and began watering.
After I finished watering the plant, I headed to the car, where she stood leaning against my vehicle.
“Can we go now, or do you need to feed the birds and the bees, too?” she asked, sliding into the driver’s seat.
I got in the car. “Woman, drive to this place.”
Our drive was a silent one. It would be an accurate guess to say that I’d never told Jennifer that Lucinda purchased that plant. I don’t know why I kept it. It was the last reminder of Lu at my house. I liked plants, just like my mom did, so I figured I’d keep watch over it until Lucinda decided to come and get it. I could not tell Jennifer whose plant it was, or it’d be chopped up and trashed. Why do that to the plant? It wasn’t its fault. Besides, it was really blossoming, and if push came to shove, I’d take it over my mom’s house so she could continue giving it the love and care that it needed. I hated to admit it, but it just reminded me so much of my mom and dad, so I held onto it as if it were a rare piece of fine jewelry.
“You didn’t say anything about my outfit,” Jennifer said, breaking into my silent thoughts as we got out of the car.
My focus turned to her. “Huh?”
She huffed. “You always said that you like to see women in skinny jeans. You know I’ve never been a fan of them, but since you said you liked how they look, I went and bought these jeans with this nice wrap sweater shirt, and you didn’t even notice.”
Taking in her words, I looked her up and down. Damn. She did look hot to death in that outfit. Here was where a man had to learn to fudge the truth. I really didn’t pay her any attention because I was used to Lucinda wearing them. Actually, Lucinda was the reason I liked to see women wear them. Of course, I couldn’t tell Jennifer that I wasn’t paying attention because I was used to another woman wearing that style and not her, so I fudged.
“I’m sorry, baby. I did notice it, but you were rushing me so hard about making this appointment that I didn’t say anything. You really do look hot, and they become you. Maybe later on I can see what it feels like to slide you out of those jeans.”
We linked arms, and she giggled. “Maybe you can talk me into that later on, Mr. Sharper,” she said with a sexy smile.
I breathed a sigh of relief that I’d dodged a bullet. A little fudging never hurt, especially when trying to prevent an argument. If I’d admitted that I really didn’t notice it, then I’d have been accused of not paying her any attention, and the snowball effect would’ve begun. The lesson of today was fudge.
“Hello, we have an appointment with LeAnn,” Jennifer said to the receptionist as I picked up a brochure.
The cakes in there were extraordinary, exquisite, and fucking expensive. Who in the hell spends two grand on some damn cake? And that was a base price for one of the low-budget ones. My cousin Debra worked in the bakery at Wal-Mart and could’ve gotten us a nice three-or four-tier cake for two-hundred and fifty, no more than five hundred dollars tops, and it would’ve been all to the good and sent everybody into a diabetic coma.
I leaned over to Jennifer and whispered, “Do you see these fucking prices?”
She nudged me with her elbow just as a lady walked up to us.
“Hi! Welcome to Uniquely Tastes Cake. You must be the future Mr. and Mrs. Sharper. I’m LeAnn, and I’m going to be showcasing our work here for you today. I’m positive by the end of your experience, you’ll taste a cake that is uniquely right for you,” she said, all bubbly.
Jennifer smiled. “We look forward to it. I’m excited.”
LeAnn turned to me. “And don’t worry. We have some delicious groom’s cakes that are to die for. You’ll be excited, too.”
“Do the groom’s cakes start at two grand, too?” I asked before I knew it.
Jennifer gasped, and LeAnn chuckled. She touched Jennifer’s arm. “Don’t be upset. The men are always the skeptics. Money is always their first motivating factor, but once they taste our cakes, it goes out the window,” she jokingly reassured her.
“Really? What do you put in it to make me lose my mind? Crack?”
By this time, Jennifer looked mortified, and I was beyond ready to go. Two thousand dollars. Shittin’ me.
LeAnn was a good sport and only grinned at my comment. “No, but we have been known to dabble in cocaine.”
Jennifer and I both looked at each other.
LeAnn burst out laughing. “I’m just kidding! You should’ve seen the looks on your faces. Oh my goodness. I just had to throw that out there because that crack comment was hilarious.”
That loosened us up, and even I couldn’t help but burst into hysterics with the ladies. LeAnn showed us different groom’s cakes first. I had to admit those were some of the best cakes I’d ever tasted. All types of flavors and shapes of one- and two-tier cakes. However, I am basic. A simple chocolate groom’s cake would’ve served me just fine. At five hundred to one thousand dollars a pop, I would’ve baked my own damn cake. A three-dollar box of Duncan Hines and a two-dollar jar of chocolate frosting weren’t looking too bad to me. The thought made me chuckle inwardly. Lucinda had rubbed off on me. I had become frugal.
Next, we went on to the actual wedding cakes. It was like being in a cake extravaganza. There were so many different styles, colors, assortments, tiers, designs, and flavors that it was making me want to set a dentist appointment on the spot. As we sat there tasting cake after cake, I began to forget which ones I liked and which ones I didn’t.
“Wait! Wait!” Jennifer chuckled as we sipped on wine. “I’m starting to lose count here, girl.”
LeAnn waved her hand. “That’s why I’m here, to keep count. However, we can take a break if you like.”
I was the first to agree. “Yes, I need to digest some of this and look over what we’ve already tasted. These Uniquely Taste cakes are just that, unique and tasty.”
LeAnn winked at Jennifer. “Converted another non-believer. I told you just to wait,” she said as they shared a laugh.
Scooting back my chair, I stood, stretched, and then asked, “LeAnn, where is your restroom?”
“Just around the corner to the right. You can’t miss it.”
Bending, I kissed Jennifer on the forehead. “I’ll be right back.”
Taking the path that LeAnn had explained, I turned the corner to the right and the sign that said RESTROOMS wasn’t the only thing that stuck out to me. I knew that bodacious booty in skinny jeans anywhere. All I could see was her booty down to her boots, but I knew it was her—Lucinda.
I moved to the left and peeped down the aisle, and lo and behold, she and Mike were standing there sipping wine and talking to a consultant.
They’re doing a cake tasting, too?
That made it official. That bastard really was planning on marrying Lu. Damn, she looked good. Real damn good. I had to lick my lips to keep from salivating, looking at her in those jeans. Jennifer looked hot in her outfit, she really did, but it was as if skinny jeans were built, cut, and tailored to fit Lucinda. She wore those things as if she created the design herself. Seeing her ass in them made my heart skip a couple of beats. I may not have been with Lu anymore, but there were some things a man never forgot, and the bodacious body of Spanish Fly was one of them.
“What’s taking you so long?” Jennifer asked from behind me.
Jumping out of my skin, I nervously replied, “I . . . uh . . . was just about to go to the restroom.”
She pointed to the sign to the right of us. “Baby, the restroom is right here. You haven’t been in yet?”
“Uh, no. I was just uh—”
She peered down the aisle. “You were just spying on Mike and Lucinda, right?” she said with a slight attitude.
“I was just shocked to see them. That’s all.”
She rolled her eyes and folded her arms, anger oozing out of her pores. “I don’t know why. They are getting married, too. Why are you so concerned with them? We have to finish our own appointment.”
“I just saw them, and I was shocked, that’s it. I mean, Lu is just a little more practical with her spending. I never would’ve expected to see her here.”
“Oh, so now I’m high maintenance because I want the best for my wedding? Is that what you’re saying?”
Shit. Here we go. Why didn’t I just carry my ass up in that restroom?
Now, I still had to piss while I stood there and fussed with Jennifer.
“No, baby, I’m not saying that at all.”
“You may as well. You’ve been fussing about the prices since we got here.”
“Let’s not do this here. Let me take a leak so we can finish.”
“If you would’ve taken a leak instead of worrying about your ex, then we could’ve been on the road to completion,” Jennifer shot back.
“Is everything okay?” Lucinda’s voice wafted through the air, cutting into our argument.
Damn. We’d been so engrossed in our little rift that we didn’t even notice that Lucinda had walked up on us.
We turned to face her. “Yes,” we said with fake smiles.
Lucinda gave us questioning stares before she turned her attention to Jennifer. “The cakes taste amazing, don’t they?”
