Black Widow (6 page)

Chapter 4

Sick as a Dog

Isis was eating breakfast at her favorite diner when her phone vibrated. Normally she turned the phone off when she was in a restaurant so that she could enjoy her food in peace and not distract other patrons from their dining with a one-sided phone conversation. She thought about just letting it go to voicemail, but when she looked down at the caller ID, she was glad that she hadn’t; it was Phoebe calling.

Phoebe was in Texas trying out for the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders, which had been a dream of hers since she was a little girl. The Cowboys had been her father’s favorite football team, and once he passed away, she had become even more determined to make the squad.

“Hey, sister,” Isis answered. “How is everything?”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you at the funeral,” Phoebe told her sister, sadness dripping from her voice. “I feel like I let you down. I really wanted to stay and help with everything going on with you right now.”

“I know, sis, but I really want you to do great at your tryouts. You know this has been your dream since we were young.”

“I know. But there are so many girls here to try out. I don’t know if I’ll make it anyway,” Phoebe said.

“Sure, you are going to make it. You were the head cheerleader in high school and led your squad to three straight championships. You’re a natural.” Isis tried to increase her sister’s confidence. “How many black chicks are there?”

“Probably.” She hesitated, “about ten.”

“Okay—they gotta have at least two black girls on the team, so you should be a lock. Plus, you got the looks and the talent. Besides, they gotta add some flavor, in my opinion.”

“I know, but—”

“But nothing. You’re incredibly beautiful, you have a cute figure, you’re model thin, and in shape, plus you can dance your ass off.”

“That’s sweet of you to say, but you’re my sister,” Phoebe said. “Will they see that?”

“Sister, please. You are cuter than any cheerleader I ever seen, and you know that I’ve seen some cheerleaders in my day with all those football games that Daddy took me to. Gurl, I need to be down there in Texas judging y’all.”

“You right,” Phoebe said with a slight chuckle. “I guess you would know.” But Isis could hear a little hurt in her voice. “Sister, I’ve always been jealous of the relationship that you and Dad shared. He was your full-time dad and only a when-I-see-you dad for me, which was only when he had to stop by to drop off money or get a quickie with Brenda. That’s all Brenda cared about. She didn’t give a damn about Dad having a father–daughter relationship with me. Sure, sometimes he would stay a little while, but I never got to go out to eat with him or to the movies or go to the park or football games.”

Isis had never known that her sister felt that way. Though they’d formed a bond as strong as any blood sisters could, Phoebe had never talked much about her feelings toward their father.

Phoebe continued, “Then when Sandy killed him, my chances of us ever having a deeper relationship were killed right along with him.”

“Sister, I’m sorry that you didn’t have a closer relationship with our father, but we both suffered great losses when he died,” Isis said. “I lost both of my parents on that day.”

Sandy had received a thirty-year prison sentence for the killing. Isis had never understood how her mother could have done something so horrific, and so she had never forgiven Sandy or ever visited her in prison. As far as Isis was concerned, her mother had died on that day as well.

“I’m sorry for peeling the scab off old wounds,” Phoebe said. “Let’s change the subject.”

“Sister, you have nothing to apologize for. You should always feel free to share how you feel with me. If you can’t be honest with me, then who can you be honest with? Your mother?”

“Yeah, right.” Phoebe chuckled. She was closer to Isis than she was her mother, a fact that wasn’t lost on Brenda. “Did you call in to work today?”

“Yes, but I have to bring a doctor’s note. I know they are sick of me. Last week it was the funeral, and now this shit.”

“You’ll be okay. You just gotta take care of yourself, and pneumonia ain’t nothing to be taken lightly,” Phoebe cautioned.

“I know; it’s just hard to lie around all day,” Isis said, knowing that she should have her butt at home in bed. But she was finally regaining her full appetite, and she couldn’t stand any more of the soup Aunt Samantha had been bringing her. Cooking had never been Aunt Samantha’s strong suit, but Lord knows she tried.

Just then a loud voice in the background warned Phoebe and the other participants: “Warm-up in five minutes, ladies.”

“Sister, I gotta go. I need to make one more call before warm-up,” Phoebe said.

Isis started coughing. “Okay. Good luck, sister,” she said between sniffs and coughs before hanging up the phone. She knew that she should have kept her tail at home.

Isis left the restaurant and went home. For the next hour or so, she lay in bed, blowing her nose and flipping through TV channels, until her phone rang.

“Hey, Boo, I heard you were sick.” It was Bam.

“Yes, I’m sick as a dog,” Isis said, coughing.

“Well, if you need a nurse, then you are in luck, because I know a good one.”

“I do too, but you do know that I am not only a member of the Broke-Ass Friends Club but also the president?”

Bam chuckled on Isis’s play on the words of one of Biggie’s old joints. “Shit, the emergency room don’t refuse no one.”

“I’ve already been there.”

“What did they do?”

She hit the mute button to blow her nose and then returned to the phone. “Nothing much. I got pneumonia. Hold on.” She sneezed and wiped her nose. “But I’ll be okay.”

“I know you will, because I am on my way over there with tea, juice, crackers, soup, and some other goodies.”

“No, I’m good.” Although she tried to control the next round of coughing, it blasted out anyway. “You’ve done enough already.”

“No you’re not. That cough right there is why I am on the way. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

She tried to stop him. “No. I look a mess.”

“I know you’re beautiful, but you can’t be glamorous and sick at the same time. Not even Naomi Campbell can do that. And for real, Shorty, I done seen you dolled up; I know how you do yours,” he told her. “I’ll be there in eight minutes. Gotta go.”

Although she was weak, Isis managed to wash her face and brush her teeth and hair so she could be a little more presentable. She didn’t want to be seen in a vulnerable state by Bam, but once he arrived, she liked the idea of having him there to take care of her. She dozed off a few times, and each time she woke up, he was right there. He would make quick runs to handle his business, but he was so fast about it that she would never even have known that he’d been gone if he hadn’t told her.

“I know your being here is cutting into the other things you need to be doing. You’ve been great. You can go take care of the streets now,” Isis suggested to him as he sat on the side of the bed feeding her chicken noodle soup. She felt bad that Dave’s boy was taking care of her the way he would have.

“It’s not an inconvenience at all. Actually, it’s kind of convenient in its own way.”

“Really? You aren’t just saying that, are you?”

“Nope, it’s real talk. See, I’ve been staying out in the country with my aunt, but I’m about to get my own place.”

“For real?” she asked. “Out here? In the city?”

“Naw, in the country. See, I don’t be trying to fuck with these niggas for real. You know, they see a nigga getting money and they want to run up in they spot. They feel like they should reap the benefits of another man’s labor.”

“I feel ya,” she said after a big sneeze.

Bam handed her a tissue. “So to protect myself from that shit, I can keep that place good and booby-trapped just in case a nigga wanna try his hand. Usually when I get calls, I have to drive up here and meet dudes, but now that I am here with you, it’s been more convenient. I like the company. Plus, you got a nice little place—no kids, nothing.”

She smiled but thought about how much longer she would have her place. Her rent was already one month behind before the funeral, and then she got sick, and now with her missing over two weeks of work, she had no idea how she was going to play catch-up. “So you don’t like kids, huh?”

“Naw, I am not going to say that I don’t like the li’l monsters, but I don’t want any right now.”

Isis seconded his opinion. “Me either. I need to get my shit in order first.” She opened up a new box of tissues.

“That makes two of us.”

“You seem like you got your shit together: nice car, you making money. What more could you want?”

“There’s always more to be had. I want more out of life than drug money and trick bitches.”

“That sounds like a plan.” She blew her nose.

“Yeah, so bringing kids into this world isn’t a good look for the lifestyle I’m living right now.”

“I agree, but are you protecting yourself?” Isis had no idea why she was asking such personal questions, but she kept firing. “If it happens, then what?”

He smacked his lips at her as if she was asking him a crazy question. “That cold must really got you delirious. Damn right I’m wearing armor. I’ve got to look out for me.”

“That’s good. I was just checking.”

Over the next few days, Bam slowly nursed Isis back to health. But as she grew stronger, Bam got weaker—she’d passed the virus on to him. So the next thing she knew, their roles had reversed, and now she was being his nurse.

Finally, after about a week, Isis felt well enough to return to the jewelry store where she worked. She worked the entire day with her boss, Bob. She was still busy even after she had finished her official eight-hour shift.

“Isis, what time had you planned on leaving today?” Bob asked.

“Well, I have so much to do to try to get things back on track.”

“Like what?”

“I really need to follow through on all of the special orders to see when they will be in and call my clients to let them know the status so they won’t be left in the dark.”

He nodded, and Isis continued. “Then I have to find a company that we can order an eight-carat trillion tanzanite ring from for another customer, but because it may be hard to get, I am going to get the price of the same ring in sapphire because it may be another option as far as the look. Plus, I’m sure it would be a lot cheaper.”

He nodded again and smiled. “That’s awful nice of you.”

“I do what I have to do to make sure that we keep them coming back. With all the competition out there, they can go anywhere they want to purchase their gems, but it’s important that we treat them as valued customers so that they’ll choose us.”

A huge smile covered Bob’s face. Isis had learned well. “That’s right. So how long you think before you’ll be finished up?” Bob asked.

“Well, I’m going to do as much as I can here, then I will do some research from home.”

Bob looked at his watch. It was after six. He left and went to dinner. When he returned, Isis was putting the clearance items out.

“After I get all of these clearance items tagged and ready to be put out tomorrow, I’m going to go ahead and head out, Bob.” Isis felt good about her day. It had been very productive. She had caught up to the point where it was almost as if she had never been gone.

“Make sure you come and see me after you have everything done,” Bob instructed her.

Isis finished up a couple more things and then went to see him.

“Hey, Bob, you wanted to see me before I left for the day?” Isis said as she entered his office.

“Listen, you are one of the best workers that I’ve ever had. I’ve never seen any one of my employees work the customers as you do. Even if they come in with no money, you treat them so well that they come back when they do have money.”

She smiled. She knew what all of this was about, why Bob wanted to see her.
One day back on the job, and already they giving me a raise
, Isis thought.
They must have really missed me. Sales must have been at an all-time low, which they always are when I am out or on vacation.
Isis was pumping herself up big time. If she’d had a dick, she could have sucked it herself.

“Working with jewelry is a gift that you possess, and I am sure your next employer will appreciate it as well. I’m sorry, Isis, but I’m going to have to let you go.”

Isis snapped out of her thoughts. “What? Excuse me? Did I hear you correctly? You’re letting me go? But you just said—”

“And I meant it,” Bob assured her. “The problem is that I need someone that I can rely on to come to work consistently. Sorry, but I’m going to have to let you go.”

“You
can
rely on me, Bob, I swear. It’s just that things have been crazy lately.” Isis pleaded her case. “But you can trust me, Bob.”

“Not anymore. I have no idea what has happened to you in the past few weeks.”

“I had a death in my family and then I was sick.” None of this seemed to matter to Bob. “What about the four years that I’ve been working where I hardly ever missed a day? Sometimes I even came in on my days off.”