In My Sister's House (7 page)

These were fighting words for Treasure, who swiftly pulled a straight razor from her bra, just as Nettie pulled one from her wig. Holding it in a striking motion, she peered up at Treasure and said, “What’s up?” A surprised Treasure backed down and warned Nettie that she better not ever see her on the streets of A.C.

“I’ll be there next Tuesday night as a matter of fact, at Bally’s doing a little gambling. So you bring your man ass to the nonsmoking section and you’ll see me on the blackjack table. We can settle this shit right then and there out on the boardwalk!” Nettie bellowed. “I don’t fight on my job. But I’ll beat yo ass till times gets better on the street. Now git out of here.”

With one last glaring look, Treasure pointed her finger at Nettie, turned, and assured her that they would meet again. At least four more girls were waiting to be seen, so, burying her razor securely back in her wig like a bird’s egg in a nest, Nettie turned to Princess and Lovely and instructed them to proceed with the auditions. Without saying a word, they motioned for the next girl to come in while Nettie wiped down her bar, calm as ever.

“That could have been so much worse. Where was Head?” a nervous Princess whispered. Looking over at Nettie, Lovely remarked, “Who needs Head? Next!”

A few more girls came through and they still had not found what they were looking for. A stunning white five-foot-seven brunette with what appeared to be fake boobs, and sporting an ass like a sista, marched in, extended her hand, and in a Southern twang declared, “Hi, I’m Gidget! Is this where the auditions are poppin’ off?” Princess tried not to laugh, but Lovely didn’t seem to care and let out a howl. “Yes, Gidget—is that what you call yourself? This is indeed the right place, and we’re ready to see your routine if you are.” Princess figured that this would most likely be a quick audition, assuming that the cheerleader wannabe would probably be more suited for an Eagles tryout.

As Gidget handed her CD over to Quince, Princess leaned into
Lovely, saying, “Okay, bets on she’ll do some Hannah Montana number.”

Staring Gidget down, Lovely disagreed. “Naw, I’m thinking Hilary Duff or a Spice Girl routine.” They both laughed. But the joke appeared to be on them. Girlfriend took center stage against the beats of a Mary J. Blige jam and rocked one of the hypist solo routines either of them had ever seen. Smiles left their faces and looks of disbelief took over. Princess and Lovely tilted their heads at an angle as if they were watching dance magic happen before their very eyes. Even Quince was shaken. “Oh,
shit!”
he shouted as he covered his mouth with a closed fist. He spun around sharply in a quick circle before returning his fixated stare to Gidget. Nettie looked up and mouthed “Work, bitch!” just loud enough for her own ears. After about a minute and a half, Princess gestured with her hand in a horizontal motion under her throat for Quince to cut the music. Cheers and exuberant clapping erupted in the room. Even Lovely stood up to give the white girl props. “Girl, that was off the chain! Where the hell you from? And why ain’t you already dancing?”

“Why, thanks, I appreciate that. I’m from Pennsauken, New Jersey, by way of Nashville, Tennessee.” Gidget displayed a wide toothy grin like she was doing a Colgate commercial. All that was missing was the tube of paste, a camera, and someone shouting “Action!” Princess acted less enthused than she was, calmly telling Gidget they would like to see her at callbacks on Monday. She also told her it might be a good idea for her to come by the club that night to see the type of show they put on.

“I can assure you I’ll be there,” Gidget said, and thanked them both again for the opportunity.

After Gidget disappeared into the outside world, Lovely turned to Princess. “Can you believe that shit?”

“Believe what?” Princess said.

“C’mon, Princess, you got to give it to her. That girl was bad!” an excited Lovely stated.

“She did all right. But let’s see how she handles our routines. What she did in here was a routine she’s probably been doing for
years and had a whole lot of time to rehearse before coming. She’ll be expected to do much more here and learn it in a shorter time. I’ll just wait a while before I get too excited over
Miss Girl from Pennsauken!”
And with that, Princess gathered up her things, told Lovely she’d see her later, and thanked Quince and Nettie for their assistance. Not uttering anything else she exited the club, leaving behind a quiet atmosphere. Her behavior didn’t affect Lovely or anyone else; they were well aware of how Darlene Withers, aka Princess, could be sometimes.

Shaking her head, Lovely went over to Nettie, who witnessed the whole exchange. “Dag, I don’t know why she acts that way. She knew that girl came in here and rocked it!” Lovely said to Nettie. “I mean, I have to admit that I am shocked, too, but it is what it is. You take can’t that away from her.”

“Chile, that’s just the way that girl is. People act like that when they don’t like themselves,” Nettie offered. “All that beauty, talent, youth don’t mean shit, if you can’t wake up in the morning, look at yourself in the mirror, and
like
what you see. And I’m talking from experience.” With no intention of elaborating, Nettie quickly changed the subject. “Look, baby, I got to finish up here and prepare for tonight. You go on home for a few hours, because before you know it, you’ll need to be right back here reporting for work. And bring my little man by to see Auntie Nettie sometime. It’s been way too long.”

“I will, Nettie, I will. He always asks about you. Especially when he gets mad at me after I’ve scolded him for something. He’ll warn me he is going to tell Auntie Nettie on me,” Lovely laughed.

“That’s right. He knows his auntie will take care of everything. You better leave my baby alone,” Nettie playfully said.

“You ever think about having any children, Nettie? The way you love kids, I know you’d make a great mom,” Lovely said.

“Girl, I’m forty-seven years old! My day care center has been closed for many years,” Nettie laughed as she pointed to her private area. “Naw, baby, mother
loves
kids, as long as they are not hers,” she added.

“What about June? Has she ever talked about it with you?”

“Yeah, she did, and I talked her ass right out of it, too!” Nettie barked. “We already fight every other day over some type of shit. Imagine if there was a child involved. Hell, at times I feel like I already got a child—her!” Nettie said sarcastically.

“I don’t know, Nettie, a lot of same-sex couples are having children and raising them in a family environment. Statistics show they’re usually well adjusted.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know all about that,” Nettie said, waving her hand to dismiss the idea. “But that will never happen over here, baby. For one, I’m too old to get up on anybody’s table and start pushing. Second, June is too butch and thinks she is too much of a man to allow her body to carry a baby. That would make her have to deal with the reality that although she’s a lesbian, biologically she is still a woman. Chile, that would just put her under!” Nettie laughed. “Naw, we got some friends who have gone that route and they seem real happy about it. So I say hooray for them. But like I said, it ain’t happening over here. And I thought I told you to get outta here anyway! How did we get to jaw jerking ’bout me, huh?”

With that they bid each other good-bye. Nettie stayed behind tending to what she needed to as Lovely stepped out into the bright sunny morning.

P
hilly is known for experiencing some brutal days in the summer, but not today. Today couldn’t be more perfect. The humidity was surprisingly low for the month of July, and by one in the afternoon, the temperature was a comfortable eighty-four degrees. After checking out of her hotel, Storm stepped out into the sunlight. Immediately a city cab approached her and asked if she needed a ride. At first she said yes, but then changed her mind, opting to walk the twelve blocks to South Street. The cabbie frowned, rolled the window back up, and sped off, but not before spitting the word “Cunt!” out of his mouth. Normally this would have pissed off Storm; she thought that was the lowest name to call a woman. Even she refrained from using that word and she held a dictionary of cuss words in her head. She would have screamed obscenities right back at him, but she let it roll off her back. A foul-mouthed disgruntled cab driver was not going to spoil her mood. Not today.

Today she was
free
and the taste, smell, sights, and sounds of freedom wrapped around her like a comforting soft sweater as she turned off Chestnut Street onto Walnut. She couldn’t believe all of the trendy new shops and restaurants that had opened since she went away. She barely recognized anything. Where was the Philly she used to know? She had known all the businesses on Walnut when she was
on the street. Everything had changed. A twinge of sadness crept over her as she tried to remember which store used to be where, what restaurant had closed and what new one replaced it.

Storm was headed for her old apartment building, walking up to the corner of Eighteenth and Walnut, where The Rittenhouse Claridge stood. Not ready to be recognized by any of her old neighbors or Ernie, the doorman, Storm walked on the opposite side of the street until she was directly across from the eighteen-story place she had called home before Muncy. Watching the comings and goings of all the people brought back memories of Storm’s society days. Days when she’d step out of The Claridge in a Donna Karan mini jersey print dress, with a Dior handbag, Prada boots, a Movado watch, and Fendi earrings. And that was just for a Saturday afternoon brunch with friends. How she longed for the return of those days.

Deciding on a park bench across from her old residence, she sat down and took in all the scenery. As long as she had lived on Rittenhouse Square, she never fully realized how beautiful and scenic it was. A stone’s throw from the South Philly neighborhood in which she grew up, Rittenhouse Square sat in the center of the downtown area, surrounded by numerous high-rise office buildings, shops, and condominiums. The square was adorned by ten-foot trees, some with white and pink blossoms, and manicured patches of rich green grass, and in its center sat an ornate Roman-style fountain. During the summer, birds and squirrels would perch themselves on the edge of the fountain or dip their faces in the water, oblivious to the assortment of urban professionals, businessmen, moms with strollers, and folks sitting around having lunch or chatting endlessly on cellphones all around them. Storm was enjoying all of this for the first time.
This must be what they call taking time to smell the roses
.

Before prison, her life was so full that sitting down in a park watching other people wasn’t even a consideration. If anything, they would be watching her. There was another reason Storm chose to sit idly in the park, taking a moment or two to get herself together. She was preparing to see her sister, Skylar.

N
ettie entered the club, stylishly dressed in a pair of hip-hugging black slacks, red three-inch pumps, and a solid red silk tank top. She carried several bags in her hand and was in mid conversation on her cellphone. Her mood was jovial. It was obvious that she and June had patched things up because they were flirting the night away.

“Okay, so you gonna make me tell Skylar that I have an emergency back at home, yeah, that my
space heater
has overheated and I may have to go home a little early to have it taken care of.” Putting the bags down on the table, she let out a hearty laugh. “Oh, really, you’re going to do all that, huh? I see. Well, I tell you what, you just make sure you’re awake when I get there and you can show me how badly you’ve missed me, okay?” Nettie said while clicking on the lights and heading over to the bar.

“I love you, too, baby.” She softened her tone, “And I’m sorry, too. It was both of our faults, baby. I’m not the innocent one here,” she cooed. “Okay, well, let me go. You know we are going to have another packed house tonight. I can already see the flashing light on the phone. We’ve got reservations up the ying yang! Okay, sweetie, see ya later. Bye-bye.”

Even with all the fussing and fighting they went through, Nettie had always known that June loved her. Even with all the jealous behavior
and insecurities, there was no mistaking that June Alvarado adored her some Nettie Flowers. The thought of this brought a smile and chuckle to Nettie’s lips.

Although Nettie had known for years that she was attracted to women, June was normally not her type. For one, June was overweight and short. Second, she was entirely too young for Nettie. But June pursued her and wouldn’t take no for nothing in the world. In short, she wore Nettie down until she gave in. And Nettie had to admit: She was glad she did. Nettie knew she could be a handful in relationships. Her abrasive, controlling, foul-mouthed ways would normally send women screaming for the exit. She certainly wouldn’t tolerate the mess she dished out to June if the tables were turned. Thinking about this brought a touch of guilt, and Nettie mumbled to herself, “I promise … I’ll try to be better from now on.” She would try to not fly off the handle as quickly as she usually did and understand that there was a generational gap. Perhaps she would be more patient with June when she went on her jealous binges—and she had to admit that it was a bit flattering.

Putting her cellphone away in her oversize purse, she noticed a small gift-wrapped box with a card attached. She assumed that it was something from June.
What has this girl gotten me now?
The card read, “Nettie, I know that sometimes we argue and get mad at each other, but I just want you to know that I love you more than you’ll ever know. This is a little something for you. I hope you enjoy it. I had no idea who these women were or ever heard of their music except for the lead singer, and you play a lot of their old-school tunes in the house. But I know what they mean to you. Enjoy, June.”

Ripping the paper off the small package in anticipation, Nettie opened the box to find that it was indeed what she was hoping for. The rock and soul group Labelle’s reunion DVD. She had gotten the CD in 2008 when it was released, but was waiting for the tour DVD. Patti Labelle, Nettie’s favorite singer, had reunited with group members Nona Hendryx and Sarah Dash after thirty years for not only a CD but a series of concerts, and this was the DVD of the group’s one-night-only appearance at The Apollo Theater in New York.