Bitch Reloaded (15 page)

"Who was that?" Maya asked after I hung up the phone.

"I coulda swore I told you to stay out my business."

"That call seemed to get under your skin. I was concerned, that's all."

"Save your concern for somebody who needs it. I'm good."

"Damn, why you gotta be so hostile? I don't understand why we can't be friends."

My neck actually snapped back due to that question. "Friends? I'm almost twenty-one. How old are you?"

"Fifteen," Maya stated proudly.

"Girl, first of all, I don't have friends, and if I did it wouldn't be wit' yo' young ass. What the hell do we have in common?"

"We both used to the ghetto fabulous life. You a baller chick, and my brother got extra long paper, so I'm a baller chick too. That's a start."

"Sweetheart, let me explain something to you. Your brother has given you everything you have, ain't nobody ever gave me shit. Do you know what I was doing when I was fifteen? Busting my ass working at a detailing shop, tryna find a nigga to trick on me `cause my moms wanted to pimp me out in the street. I lived the good life for this long," I said, snapping my finger. "Then it was all taken away from me when Supreme died. I learned to ball because I had no choice, and after getting a little taste of the streets it made me greedy. You, my dear, are trying to ball off your brother's loot. That's a big difference."

"What you mean? I got an older nigga that trick on me. He pushing keys and everything, so I ball off of more than just my brother's paper."

"Let me school you on something, youngin'. When you start fuckin' wit' them older hustlers in the streets, they not taking your young ass seriously. You just a pretty piece of pussy they want to have on they roster. They putting that real time in wit' them older bitches that got official jobs and good credit. Why? `Cause they lacking that shit themselves. They know a lil' fifteen year old can't get no houses or apartments and cars in they name, so they hustling the older bitches that can.

"See, I always knew shit like that `cause my man, Boogie, may he rest in peace, hipped me to that shit. Unlike you, I didn't have no rich-ass family member hittin' me off wit' paper and whatever else I wanted. You fuckin' blessed and you wanna brag `bout some hustler in the street breaking you off wit' chump change while you give up your most precious gift. `Cause at the end of the day, if all else fails, your beauty and body is all you have. Don't sell yourself short, especially when you don't have to."

After I said my peace I turned the music back up. I glanced over at Maya I noticed tears streaming down her cheeks. At first I wasn't going to say anything, but then she started sniffling and I could tell she was all choked-up. I reached in the glove department and handed her some tissues.

"Thank you," she said between sobs.

"It wasn't my intention to make you cry, but I had to keep it real wit' you, Maya. Life is too short to waste it on bullshit. I turned to the streets out of survival, and it made me cold. That doesn't have to be your life. With the type of money your brother has, you have the opportunity to be anything you want to be in this world. You can be so much more than a hustler's wife. That's a hood dream, baby. You so beyond that, and that's coming from a real bitch that knows this game."

For the duration of our ride there was complete silence between us. When we arrived at the store on Fifty Second and Lexington Avenue where I was getting fitted for my bridesmaid's dress, Maya seemed to pull it together. Her eyes filled with amazement when we opened the glass double doors and entered the opulent store. The regal boutique was full of gowns, from wispy sheer dresses to mermaid-styles, and most of them adorned with delicate beading and embellished embroidery.

"Damn, I can't wait to get married," Maya beamed as we walked on the ivory marble floor following what seemed to be the yellow brick road.

"Can I help you ladies?" a well preserved tall white lady asked.

"Yes, I'm here to get fitted."

"For a wedding dress?"

"No, for a bridesmaid's dress. The actual bride is Nina."

"Oh yes, Nina. She's here now. Follow me to the back."

We could tell when we were getting close, because it sounded as if we had arrived at a block party in Brooklyn instead of an upscale bridal store. I could hear Nina's voice but couldn't see her because my view was obstructed by three women who had the type of asses and tits that would jiggle across your television screen.

"Nina, your other bride's maid is here," the sales lady said."

By the expression on their faces when they turned around, we had obviously caught them off guard. "Precious, hi! I almost forgot you were coming," Nina said, scooting by her friends.

"Sorry, I was running late, but I'm here now," I said as Nina gave me a hug.

"Nina, I'll go get Precious' dress so the tailor can get her fitted."

"Thanks," Nina said to the saleslady, then turned her attention back to her friends and me. "Everybody, this is Precious and..." Nina paused, glancing at Maya.

"This is Maya, Mike's sister."

"Nice to meet you, Maya."

"Hey, ladies," the three women said in unison.

"Wow, Nina, I had no idea we'd be having a party up in here." I glanced at the table next to the cream velvet couches, and there were two open bottles of champagne, glasses and strawberries dipped in chocolate.

"Girl, you know how I do. Why don't you let me pour you a glass?"

"No, thank you."

"I'll take some," Maya said, moving forward towards the table.

"I think not." I put my hand up, indicating to Maya not to go any further.

"Well, come sit down until they bring out your dress."

I sized up the three women as we sat down. They had hoochie written all over their faces. Each had twenty pounds of weave in an array of colors to match their various complexions, which went from butterscotch to deep chocolate. All of them had cute faces, tiny waists, and the words "thirsty for money" dripping from the sides of their mouths.

"I'm Talesha," the girl in the middle of the color spectrum said, extending her hand. Her claws were so long I thought they would sink into my skin. "This is Brittany and CoCo," she said, pointing to the other women.

"My fault. I was so caught up I forgot to introduce you to my other bridesmaids," Nina said, sipping on her champagne. "Precious, you haven't said what you think of my dress."

"What dress, the one you got on?"

"Yeah, girl, this my wedding dress. What else would I be talking about?"

"My bad. I guess I was expecting something stark white, ivory or cream, but never a pale gold."

"I didn't want to follow the traditional route. I wanted to put my own spin on this shindig. I mean, this is the new color for wedding dresses anyway."

The three musketeers gave her a high-five cosigning on her wedding gown choice.

The dress was actually very pretty, in an over-the-top ballroom gown type way. It had incorporated jewels and pearls along the neck and draped down the back. Indeed, it was far from traditional and very edgy even for the most modern bride.

"You've definitely done that, but it's cool. You will no doubt stand out as the star, as you should." I started wondering what type of new of the moment dress she would have us in. I prayed it wouldn't be too far to the left. To my pleasant surprise, my dress was more traditional and very lovely. It was a pretty stardust color silk A-line dress with empire waist, chiffon halter, and back cascade. "Very lovely."

"This is hot," Maya added.

"Damn sure is. I can't wait to get married so I can pick out my wedding dress. It's going to be sick," Talesha popped.

"That's right, but you better make sure your groom's paper is right. `Cause it costs paper to put on a fly-ass wedding. But Nina ain't got to worry `bout that because she got rich-ass Jamal footing the bill," Brittney boasted.

I watched as Nina sat back, carrying on with her girlfriends, sucking up their words of encouragement. While the tailor fitted my dress, all I thought about was poor Jamal. He was so out of his league fucking with a ho-fessional like Nina. There was no doubt in my mind that she would pop out one baby for insurance purposes, and the moment she got her figure back she'd be leaving the little one with a nanny as she hit the streets with her hot-ass friends. The next chapter would be divorce court. Oh fucking well, that's Jamal's life. It will definitely be one to grow on.

I then stared over at Maya. I was still feeling bad about trying to school her earlier, but I hoped she understood that I wasn't trying to bring her down, but instead lift her up. The streets took my soul when I was fifteen, and had a firm grip until I fell in love with Supreme. But when he died, the part of me that truly learned to love died too. The street life hadn't stole Maya's innocence yet, and I prayed it never would. By the way she was so enthralled in the hoochies' conversation, it might've already been too late. Only time would tell.

(PjVa k C4 J f"

I woke up on a beautiful Sunday morning with a deep sense of despair, and didn't understand why. The sun was shining bright, but instead of opening my curtains and relishing in the sunlight, I pulled the silk comforter over my head wanting to be in darkness. I tried to go back to sleep but kept tossing and turning.

Then it hit me as if getting swept away in the ocean by a strong current. It was my birthday. Today I was twentyone-finally officially legal. When Aaliyah sang in her angelic voice that "age ain't nothing but a number", she knew what was up. I had felt legal damn near all my life. Maneuvering through life's struggles and tragedies will age any person. You get to the point where no one can tell you a damn thing because you've seen too much with your own eyes and the experiences have left you bitter and cold. Here I was, supposed to be celebrating a day that many anticipate for many years and reaching an age I thought for so long was out of my reach. Being a hell-raiser in the streets would certainly almost always lead to either an early death or lockdown, but I had defeated the odds. I had achieved the material gains I had aspired for, but nothing else. I was alone. I had no one; not the child I was supposed to give birth to, nor the man I should have spent the rest of my life with. It was moments like this that for a brief second I would be ready to end it all. But then my motivation for living would kick in... Nico Carter.

Every time I was ready to check out and join Supreme, I would think about Nico. He was the one who gave me so much in life and then he took it all away. I would've much rather he ended my life than take Supreme. Here I was, surrounded by wealth but deprived of what I needed the most. .the love of my husband.

When I finally dragged myself out of bed, I went in the closet and pulled out the box I had put a lot of Supreme's belongings in. There were some of his prized possessions that I couldn't dare part with but couldn't stomach looking at every day. The reminder was too painful, but today I wanted to embrace that pain. In the box was a rare mix tape that he cut when he was still an underground artist, and a press kit released by Atomic Records promoting his first solo debut, including an 8x10 black and white photo and a five-page information packet printed on stationary from Atomic Records with a little about the CD, explaining what each song is about and why he wrote it. There was also a platinum diamond-encrusted "Supreme 4 Life" pendant he received from the label when his debut CD went platinum.

But, my favorite memorabilia was Supreme's notebook filled with handwritten lyrics and poetry. He would always tell me that he had memorized every rhyme he ever spit and he had no need to write them down, but chose to because one day he wanted to share his thoughts on paper for the rest of the world to read.

I spent the next few hours in the closet laughing, crying and most importantly reminiscing. In my time of deep thought, I couldn't help but ponder what would I do next after I had finally achieved retribution against Nico. What direction would my life lead me in? My mind had been so preoccupied with revenge that I hadn't looked towards the future. I guess I didn't see a future without Supreme in it, but maybe it was time for me to realize that I should. Supreme wouldn't want me to stop living because of the cards life had dealt me. He was a survivor and would want me to be a soldier.

I stepped in the shower and let the hot water baptize my body. I would handle my business with Nico, and then put the misery of my past behind me and see what the world had to offer. I knew I would never share a love greater than the one I had with Supreme, but I had to try to figure out a way to live instead of just existing.

After I got out the shower, I put on a cream Juicy Couture jogging suit and headed downstairs. Before I reached the bottom step the doorbell rang. "Who the fuck is at my door on a Sunday afternoon?" I said out loud. Annoyed, I opened the door.

"Surprise! Happy birthday!" Jamal and Nina said in chorus. They had balloons, cake, champagne and food.

"How did you guys know it was my birthday?"

"A couple of weeks ago when we went out, you left your wallet open on the table for a brief moment when you took a call on your cell phone, so I peeked at your license. I realized your birthday was coming up, and I thought it would be great to surprise you with an intimate party, especially since you agreed to be in my wedding."

My first instinct was to think back as to when I left my wallet open, since that was out of my character. I didn't want to spoil the kind gesture so I let it slide.