Borrow Trouble (9 page)

I
was due to deliver my baby any day now, and I was anxious to get it over with. In the meantime, I needed emotional support now more than ever. When Inez's shoulder was not available for me to cry on, I held other people hostage at my pity parties. I lured a couple of the other teachers to my house, who didn't mind listening to me bitch and moan as long as I listened to them. My mother was always interested in hearing my complaints. It gave her another opportunity to dole out more of her motherly advice. The only people I didn't confide in that much were Leon's family. His mother was a nice woman, but she was distant and conservative. Leon's daddy, well, that man didn't even want to listen to his own wife's complaints, let alone his son's wife's. I enjoyed sharing my thoughts with Leon's uncle in the nursing home, but sometimes that poor old brother didn't even know where he was. I kept my thoughts pretty much to myself around the rest of Leon's family. Despite all of the options I had, they were poor substitutes for Inez. This woman was
my
girl.

But my girl was having her problems, too.

“Renee, you think you've got problems. I dare you to walk in my shoes for a week,” she challenged me one day.

“No, thanks. Your shoes are way too big for my feet,” I teased.

“Maybe I need to get out of town again for a few days,” she continued, with a groan.

Inez and I had just come out of Jeannie Frock's dress store at the mall one Saturday afternoon and found one of those damned police boots on the front wheel of her BMW. We had been in such a rush to get into the mall that Inez had parked in a spot that was reserved for police cars only. But because a huge bush obscured the
NO PARKING
sign, Inez got out of that mess without having to pay a big fine. That little incident was minor compared to some of the others that she had to deal with. A lot of people depended on Inez. She tried to be there for everybody, and she never complained about it.

No matter how much people demonized Inez with their thick, evil tongues, one thing that the gossipmongers couldn't ignore was the fact that this sister gave back to her community by giving free manicures to bedridden women and donating money to various local charities. And she had a long reach. She even helped support a disabled teenager in Somalia. Inez was the one who got me involved in donating money and old clothes to some local charities. A lot of people could learn about compassion from Inez, but few chose to.

Being self-employed was not as idyllic as I had always thought it was. However, it was a position that Inez had dreamed of all of her life, she insisted. She had used her divorce settlement from her first husband to attend a cosmetology school and to start her own business. But owning the only Black nail shop in our neighborhood was a double-edged sword. Not only did the wives of businessmen and other upscale women patronize Soulful Nails, but customers from hell dropped in, too. And those undesirable individuals were not always from the low-income, high-crime areas. As a matter of fact, the poor, uneducated women who came into Inez's shop, clutching the last few dollars from their welfare checks, were usually her most pleasant clients. One Hispanic sister from the Willow Street Projects provided free janitorial service for Inez three times a week in exchange for free manicures a couple of times a month.

To a lot of her customers, Inez was just another nigger, and they made sure she knew what they thought of her. She had a few serious problems with some of these women. Some even considered themselves middle class because they lived in nice homes and had decent jobs. However, they behaved like savages.

Most of the time those loud-mouthed, gum-chewing hussies behaved themselves. But at least two or three times a week, a few crude women came in and got their raggedy nails and ashy feet done, and then refused to pay. They would usually complain about the quality of the work and then start an argument. Other times they would wait until after they'd gotten all of the services they needed done, then claim they left their money at home.

Last month the daughter of one of the most prominent Black lawyers in Cleveland stormed the shop, with a major chip on her shoulder. She got the most elaborate nail job Inez had to offer: miniature pictures of her five kids and the five different daddies painted on each nail. When it came time to pay, she tried to write a check. There was a huge sign on the wall that said:
WE DO NOT ACCEPT CHECKS
, and it was in English and Spanish. When Inez pointed out the sign to the woman, the woman tried to leave. Inez had had enough, so she attempted to restrain the woman as she hollered for Shonda to call the police. Well, by the time the cops arrived, Inez and that grifting heifer were rolling all over the floor in that nail shop. The cops were going to take only the customer to jail until Inez started mouthing off at them for taking so long to get to the shop. She ended up going to jail, too.

Inez had dumped her Iranian a few days before, claiming that their cultural clashes had become too extreme. But that didn't stop him from running from behind the counter of the convenience store he owned to bail her out of jail. Less than a week later, Inez had another run-in with the law. While she was having dinner with her current boyfriend in a restaurant in the same block as her nail shop, the man's disgruntled ex-girlfriend stormed in and slapped Inez.

Well, everybody who knew Inez knew that she was not the kind of woman you got violent with, unless it was self-defense. Inez dragged her attacker by her hair out of the restaurant to the sidewalk, in front of several stunned witnesses. By the time the police arrived, each witness told a different version of what had happened. Unfortunately, the cops believed the witnesses who claimed that Inez had thrown the first punch. The boyfriend had disappeared as soon as the ex-girlfriend had entered the restaurant. A sharp lawyer got the charges against Inez dropped.

“You need to talk to your girl about taking some anger management classes,” Leon commented over dinner the next day. He folded his newspaper and dropped it on the table in front of me. There was a brief account on page three about Inez's performance in the restaurant and her arrest.

I slid the paper back across the table.

“Inez McPherson does not have an anger problem. Just a lot of bad luck,” I defended. “She is still better off than a lot of women I know. She looks great, and she has money to burn.” As much as I didn't want to admit it, I envied Inez in an “I wish I could be more like her” kind of way.

“That high-maintenance hoochie ought to look good with all the money she spends on herself. And the reason she's got that kind of money to throw away with both hands is because she is a straight-up mercenary when it comes to her relationships. I bet that White boy she married curses the day she was born. She took him to the cleaners and then some.” Leon laughed.

“Leon, are you ever going to accept Inez?”

“Accept her for what?”

“Accept her for who she is. And you might as well. She is my best friend, and she's not going anywhere,” I insisted, clenching my teeth.

“What if I don't accept her?” Leon asked, giving me a threatening look.

“Then that's your problem,” I hissed.

“Renee, what do you want me to do? Move her in here with us? Would that make you happy? You want to bring her to bed with us? Tell me what you want me to do, and then we'll go from there. I am getting sick and tired of your attitude when it comes to that woman.”

“That woman is the only person I can count on!” I covered my mouth as soon as I spat out the words. The hurt look on Leon's face made my stomach burn. “I didn't mean that the way it sounded.”

“Sure, you didn't,” he muttered. “Look, Inez is welcome in this house. And I will always try, uh…I
will
treat her with nothing but respect as long as she treats me with respect.”

About two hours later, around one that same Sunday afternoon, Inez called me up. She was so upset, she could barely talk.

“I've been waiting for over an hour on my mechanic,” she complained. “And I need to get the kids over to Cleveland Heights so they can see their grandmother before she leaves for her cruise this afternoon.”

“What is wrong with that pricey set of wheels you just got two years ago?” I smirked. “I didn't think BMWs ever broke down.”

“I don't know what's wrong with it. Last night, on the way home from the shop, I heard this knocking noise coming from the back. The faster I drove, the louder it got. I am afraid to drive it until I find out what's making that noise. You know how long it takes to get a cab to come out here,” Inez whined. “I've called everybody else that I know with a car.” Inez paused and let out a loud moan before she continued. “I need a ride,” she said in a whiny voice that I rarely heard.

I had sold my shabby Ford Escort to one of my cousins right after Leon and I got married. I only drove Leon's Range Rover when I had to because my pregnancy generated too many surprises for me to get behind a wheel.

“Well, I don't think I can help you, girlfriend,” I said, truly sorry. One thing I could say about Inez was that she was almost always available for me when I needed her. It saddened me to admit that I was not always in a position to come to her aid. And she rarely asked me for help of any kind.

“Is…is Leon there? I'll fill up his gas tank and give him a few extra dollars if he'll give us a ride,” Inez said, her words bouncing off of my ears because they were words I never expected to hear from her.

I laid the telephone on the kitchen counter and went into the living room, where Leon was sprawled across the sofa, watching some sports program. He looked up and smiled, which was a good sign.

“Baby, I need your help,” I began, my hand rubbing my stomach.

“What's wrong, sugar?” he asked, leaping up. He shot across the floor and wrapped his arms around me.

“I'm fine,” I said, holding up my hand.

“What kind of help do you need? What are you craving? You want some ice cream? Some pickles?”

“I don't need any of that. I haven't had many cravings lately,” I said dryly. “Uh, I'm not the one who needs help.”

“Renee, get to the point,” Leon ordered, the look of patience and concern gone from his face. He gave me a puzzled look and lifted both of his eyebrows, dipping his head as he waited for me to speak again.

“Leon, something is wrong with Inez's car, and she's afraid to drive it. She needs a ride to Cleveland Heights.”

“Oh,” he said, hands on his hips. Then he started scratching the side and back of his head. “You want
me
to give
her
a ride?”

“
She
wants
you
to give her a ride, too. She's the one who asked. If you don't want to do it for her and her kids, do it for me,” I said.

“No problem,” he replied, with a hearty shrug, his eyes shifting from side to side.

I couldn't understand why just talking about Inez made Leon nervous. I couldn't recall a time when he didn't damn near scratch the skin off his head when she was the subject.

I
was too preoccupied to pay much attention to how long Leon was gone. I had the granddaddy of backaches, and all I could think about was lying down somewhere. It was a struggle, but I managed to make it back upstairs on my own, where I literally fell into bed and slipped into a deep sleep.

I didn't realize I'd been asleep for hours until I opened my eyes and saw that it was dark outside. Something was happening downstairs. I sat up, turning my head to the side so I could hear better. I heard Leon laugh, and a few seconds later, I heard Inez laugh. There was music in the background: Anita Baker, Inez's favorite. It sounded like there was a party going on in my own house, and I hadn't been invited.

With the belt on my terry cloth robe trailing behind me like the train on a bride's gown, I made it downstairs to the living room in less than a minute. I was huffing and puffing so hard, I had to lean against the wall to keep from falling.

“Girl, you'd better take it easy,” Inez warned, shaking a finger as she moved toward me. She wore a tight black leather skirt and a low-cut white blouse. Her fake blond hair was in a ponytail. She had made herself so comfortable that she had removed her four-inch heels and had left them in the middle of my living room floor.

“Honey, are you all right?” Leon asked me. There were two empty shot glasses on the coffee table. One had a ring of Inez's raspberry-colored lipstick on its lip.

“I'm fine,” I insisted, waving Inez back to her seat. “What time is it?” I asked, looking around the room.

“Half past eight,” Leon told me, glancing at his watch and scratching the side of his head. “We didn't want to wake you,” he added. He didn't volunteer any more information. I was dying to hear where he had been all of this time. And whether or not he'd spent all of that time with Inez.

She must have read my mind.

“Mama's plane to Miami got delayed. Leon was nice enough to offer to wait with the kids and me and Mama at the airport until she boarded her flight,” Inez said, shaking her head.

“All this time?” I asked in a raspy voice, trying not to show my discomfort.

Leon and Inez glanced at each other, then at me. They were looking at me like I had just asked them to explain the mysteries of the world.

“We had to swing by that traveling carnival on Willis Road,” Inez explained, giving me an apologetic look and then shrugging her shoulders. “You know the one over by Lake Erie.”

“Going to that carnival was my fault, baby. I took a different route home, thinking it would be quicker. As soon as the girls saw that carnival, well, there was no getting out of that!” Leon laughed.

“Where are the kids now?” I asked, looking from him to Inez.

“With their fathers,” she answered, rolling her eyes.

Inez loved her two girls more than she loved life itself. She even arranged her active love life around them. Other than the three men that she had been married to, no other man had ever lived in her house, because of her two young daughters. Inez's mother, a former Playboy Bunny and a very socially active divorcée, enjoyed having her granddaughters with her. She had been asking Inez for as long as I could remember to let the girls move in with her.

“Did you fix the car?” I asked Leon. My voice came out sounding harsh, so I cleaned that up with a grin as I joined him on the sofa. Inez sat down on the love seat facing us. Like the vixen she was, she crossed her legs and hiked up her skirt, which was already too short, briefly showing her shaved pussy. If any other woman had pulled such a brazen stunt in front of my husband,
in my living room,
I probably would have slapped the shit out of her and then kicked her ass all the way from my house to Michigan. But since it was Inez, I didn't. This was just the way she was, and I was used to it by now.

“He sure did,” Inez answered, giving me an embarrassed look, smoothing down her skirt too late. She and Leon burst out laughing at the same time. “Girl, I forgot I had left a cantaloupe in my trunk yesterday evening. It got loose from the bag that the guy at the farmer's market had put it in and was rolling around all over the place. That's what was making all that noise!” Inez slapped her knee and laughed some more. “Five minutes later, my cousin Earl showed up, and he needed a ride to go visit his son in Sandusky. Since Leon had already come to my rescue, I let Earl borrow my car.”

“Oh,” was all I could say, but there was a lot more on my mind. Like, how come they'd left me on my own for so long with all the problems I was having with my pregnancy? Inez still must have been reading my mind.

“I told Leon we should at least check on you! I could have let him take the kids to that carnival, and I could have come and stayed with you. Or we could have come back to get you and taken you with us. I know you don't leave the house much these days, and you shouldn't. But a couple of hours in the fresh air might do you some good.”

“Except for a few back pains, I feel fine,” I lied. My whole body felt like it was on fire. But there was something bigger and better going on in my life: my best friend and my husband finally seemed to have put their differences behind them. I didn't even bat an eye when Leon insisted on driving Inez to her cousin Earl's house to pick up her car, even though Earl had called offering to bring the car to her.

As if on cue, as soon as Leon drove off with Inez, Mama called me up. She started her verbal assault as soon as I told her that Leon had spent most of the day with Inez and had offered to drive her home.

“Girl, have you lost what's left of your mind? A woman would be a fool to let her man spend so much time alone with a…a…meat grinder like Inez!” Mama yelled so loud, it sounded like she was coming through the telephone, feet first.

“Mama, if Leon was going to fool around, it wouldn't be with my best friend,” I insisted.

“You know, for a woman who has been through college, and for you to be a schoolteacher, you are the stupidest Black woman I ever met! You ought to be ashamed of yourself! Don't you know that a woman's best female friend is more dangerous to turn aloose around her man than a naked prostitute?” Mama paused just long enough to grind her teeth and catch her breath. “Lord, I sure hope your baby sister don't grow up to be such a fool! You take after them women on your daddy's side!”

“Mama, will you calm down? Inez can pick and choose any man she wants in this town. I've seen her do it. If she had wanted Leon, he'd be with her, not me. Besides, if I can trust her with my life, I can certainly trust her with my man.” I rubbed my stomach. “It took all of this time for me to get Leon and Inez to be friends, and I want them to stay friends. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to get some rest,” I told her.

Mama didn't say anything else, but she let out an exasperated sigh. When I got her off the phone, I let out an even more exasperated sigh.