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Authors: Angie Daniels

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BOOK: In The Company of My Sistahs
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As soon as Lisa turned twenty, she had our mother committed to a mental health and drug treatment facility, then she moved to Missouri so that she could be close to me while she attended college.
Tilting my head, I allowed the spray of warm water to beat across my face as I asked myself, was that why I stayed with John for so long? Because he represented something in my life that I had never had before? Stability? Is that why it was so hard to let go? I didn't know. I just didn't know. Sometimes I feel like I am losing my mind. My psychiatrist had changed my prescriptions so many times I don't know if I am coming or going. One day I'm ADHD. Next visit I'm diagnosed with depression, and most recently, she says I am possibly bipolar, like my mother. Oh, wow, lucky me.
I shook my thoughts as I stepped out of the shower. My head was spinning from too much tequila. I hoped that when I woke up, it would have all been a dream.
Chapter 18
RENEE
“
R
enee, get your lazy ass up!”
“No,” I muttered, then rolled over on my side, ignoring Nadine's chipper voice.
“Come on, sis, you're missing one helluva party.”
Party? My sister knew exactly how to get my attention. I was instantly wide awake. Lisa and Nadine were sitting on my bed, in their pajamas.
I yawned away the last remnants of sleep and did a full body stretch before propping myself up on one elbow and glancing at the pair again. “Damn, where y'all heifers going dressed like that?”
Nadine tossed a pillow at my head. “It's a pajama party, fool.”
“Dammit, Nadine, quit playing!” Annoyed, I tossed the pillow right back at her ass. She ducked and started laughing. Silly wench. “Where's Kayla?”
Lisa's face sobered. “In the bathroom. She's not going. She doesn't feel comfortable being seen in her pajamas.”
I shook my head. I wished there was something I could do to boost her self-esteem.
I propped myself up on the bed. “Stand up so I can see what y'all got on.”
Nadine was wearing shorts and a top with pink polka dots and pink flip-flops on her feet, while Lisa wore a short blue nightshirt.
I sprung from the bed, in panties and a sports bra, and moved over to the drawer, where I emptied the contents of my suitcase and pulled out a short skimpy green number I bought at Victoria's Secret.
As usual, my sister disapproved. “I know you're not planning to wear that.”
I tossed her a look. “I don't know why not.”
“You're not covering anything.”
“Only the important parts. I'll even wear panties. I promise.” I love to rattle my sister's chain.
Nadine crossed her legs and gave me a look of envy. “Shit, I ain't mad at her.”
“I'm glad someone agrees.” I stepped over and we high-fived, then I reached under my bed for a pair of white three-inch pumps to complement the look.
Kayla stepped out of the bathroom. Her head was down, but I could tell she was still upset about finding out her man was still screwing his wife.
Lisa moved to stand next to me, then mumbled close to my ear, “Renee, don't say shit about the reverend.”
Yeah, yeah. “Kayla, girl, how come you're not going?”
She shook her head as she lowered onto her bed. “I really don't feel up to partying tonight.”
“Girl, fuck that no-neck mothafucka!” I spat.
Lisa kicked me in the shin.
“Ow!”
“I told you to keep your damn mouth shut,” she mumbled under her breath.
Lisa knows me well enough to know I don't know how to keep my mouth shut. I wouldn't have gotten as far as I have if I had. I especially couldn't stay quiet when a man's the cause of my girl's unhappiness.
Kayla shook her head again. “No, I'm going to hang out at the room. Leroy's supposed to call and I don't want to miss it.”
Lisa tried to grab me, but I stepped as far away from Lisa as I could before saying, “Girl, what's it gonna take for you to realize that man is playing you?”
Kayla looked at me and I swear she gave me the meanest look I ever did see. “Renee, I'd rather you stay out of my business. What I have with Leroy is real.”
“What you have is a bunch of bullshit.” I was tempted to say more but Lisa looked like she was about to scratch my eyes out.
“I don't expect you to understand but I do expect you to respect my decision.”
“Whatever,” I mumbled as I snatched up my gown and disappeared into the bathroom. I slipped the sports bra over my head and then slipped into the sexy green gown. Tonight I was going to have fun. If Kayla wanted to spend the evening waiting by the phone like a lost puppy then that was her stupidity. I never could understand a weak woman. What was even worse was a stupid woman.
Chapter 19
KAYLA
S
he gets on my last nerve.
Kayla stepped out onto the balcony and lowered herself into a plastic chair, sighing with frustraton. Renee was her girl, but some days she wished she had the nerve to hit her dead in her big mouth. Her slutty ways were bad enough, but when she butted her nose where it wasn't needed, that was another story altogether.
From the balcony, she watched the three walking down the path toward the party. Renee was talking loudly and cussing up a storm, as usual. A giggle escaped Kayla's lips. Gosh, it was hard to stay mad at her. Sometimes she couldn't stand her, but other times she couldn't imagine life without her. Renee had stood by her through thick and thin. When there was no one else, there had always been Renee, standing by her side, taking the punches right along with her, and even fighting her battles for her when she had been too weak to do it herself. As she stared off into the ocean, she reminisced on the years.
What she loved most about Renee was that she was a free-spirited individual who lived her life on her own terms with no regard to what others thought or said. For years, Renee allowed her to live vicariously through her. She'd never had the guts to be freaky like her girl, but at least she got to enjoy the wild stories that Renee shared with her. Kayla actually lived for Saturday afternoons, when the two of them would go out to lunch and Renee would give her an animated play-by-play.
Kayla leaned back comfortably in the chair as she remembered the good old days. The wildest she had ever gotten was when they used to spend weekends on the highway, traveling to the NCO club to party with hundreds of lonely soldiers. That was long before she had given her life over to God. But after a broken heart that was destined to stay raw, she decided to leave the soldiers alone.
She had never been one to hang out in the club, but if Renee asked she usually tagged along. Tonight, however, Kayla wasn't in the mood for partying; instead she wanted to stay in the room, drown in self-pity, and wait for Leroy's call.
She rose and moved back into the quiet drab room and took a seat on the end of the bed. God, she missed Leroy. For two years she had spent her nights lying awake in bed, planning a life together with the man she loved. Now all she could think about was getting back home and making everything right between them. Calling him and accusing him of using her had been a mistake. And she knew that now because it was well after midnight and he still hadn't called as he had promised. Two hours ago, she tried leaving a message on his pager, and had even called his cell phone again to discover he had turned it off. With no other choice, she left him an apology, but he had yet to respond. Hopefully he could call her tonight as he had promised.
Damn, Nadine.
If she hadn't mentioned Darlene's pregnancy none of this would have happened. She curled into a ball and wondered if, before his wife had found out she was pregnant, he had ever had any intentions of telling her he was leaving her.
Kayla bit her lip and lay back staring at the ceiling and told herself not to cry. Fighting the emotions was making her sick to her stomach. A few minutes later she raced into the bathroom as fast as she could maneuver her large body. She lifted the toilet seat just in time to empty the contents of her stomach. Using the walls for support, she managed to get back in bed. She rolled onto her back, breathing hard as she tried to get her stomach to settle down. Then she lay there and considered her next move.
Five classes short of graduating, she quit attending evening classes at Columbia College so she could be readily available when Leroy called. When Darlene was “too busy” she would travel with him—in separate cars, of course—to visit surrounding churches. While he preached, she would find a seat in one of the back pews and listen proudly to her man as he ministered to the congregation. After church she would slip out and meet him at a hotel off the highway. They never went out together in public. He couldn't take that chance. Instead, she would stop and pick up something along the way, and the two would lie across the bed and feed each other before getting under the covers and having dessert.
Kayla rolled onto her side and wrapped her arms around her waist. Now what was she going to do? Go back to school? She had dropped out of school because as a preacher's wife she wouldn't need a career. Her job as the first lady of the church would have been more than sufficient. She would have been visiting the sick and shut-in, arranging programs at church, and so forth. She had every intention of giving her hundred and fifty percent, and that wouldn't have been possible with a career of her own. That was okay because she loved Leroy so much she was willing to give her life if she had to.
Now what?
She stared off into the dark star-studded sky. The girls were probably having a ball. They always had. Each one of them had something she wished she'd had.
Renee's hot tail was about to dump husband number three. However, at one time she had worked two jobs while attending college full-time. She now had a bachelor's in journalism, a master's in English, and was a best-selling author. She hadn't made any real money yet, but with her determination and conviction, Kayla knew it was only a matter of time.
Nadine was an attorney. She'd survived a nasty divorce and successfully raised her son alone. Last year, she bought a bad-ass four-bedroom house, although she didn't know a doggone thing about keeping it clean. Nevertheless, she and Renee were proof you didn't need a man to be successful.
Lisa, on the other hand, was proof that there was such a thing as happily ever after. She met Michael in high school. They went on to attend college together, where she studied to be a pastry chef. Michael owned one of the largest car lots in the city.
All three of them had something she wanted. She had been searching her entire life, and so far she still hadn't found it. Would things ever get better for her? she wondered.
The Lord helps those who help themselves
.
She closed her eyes as the tears returned. “Lord, I don't know how. Please help me to find myself.”
She could go back to school and finish, only her heart wasn't in it. Instead, she would rather wait for her man to make good on his promise.
Kayla scowled. Man, she was pissed by the way Leroy had held back information about his wife. However, she wasn't ready to give up hope yet. Despite his betrayal and his lies, she loved him deeply, and believed he loved her also. She was willing to wait until the baby was born. Even if it took another year, she was going to be waiting for him with open arms. She didn't care if she had to meet him across town at seedy hotels that rented by the hour. All that mattered was being together. Love made you do crazy things like that.
Now she just wasn't so sure that he'd still have her. She had possibly pissed him off. Her bold attempt at calling him might have cost her her man.
Tears streamed down her face as she feared the worse: finding herself alone again.
Chapter 20
RENEE
A
fter my evening with Everton, I wasn't in the partying mood, but I have to admit that once I walked in the shit was off the hook. The DJ was in the corner, spinning the newest remix of “Lean Back.”
“He-e-ey!” I sang as I moved through the door, gyrating my hips to the music.
Lisa laughed and shook her head at me. “Oh, Lord, she ain't even had a drink yet and already her ass is ready to party.”
I whipped my body around, placing my left hand on my hip. “Shit, I've been drinking all damn day.”
Nadine agreed. “Yes, she has.”
I nudged her with my hip. “Bitch, your ass been drinking just as much as I have.”
“That's because you're a bad influence.”
I doubt that. Nadine's about the only one other than me that can hold her own.
Damn, there were so many men in here, I didn't know which side of the room to begin with. I followed my sister's lead to an empty table at the far right of the room. I barely had my ass in the chair when some brotha tapped me on the shoulder. I swung around and my mouth dropped. Damn! His head was so big I don't know how he managed to hold it up.
“Come on sexy, let's dance.” He started moving toward the dance floor as if I was stupid enough to follow.
“Sorry, homey, I got to get my drink on first.”
He started break dancing and roboted his ass across the floor.
Nadine and Lisa chuckled.
I gave them the finger. “Forget y'all. I'm going to go get me a drink.”
“Get me one, too,” Nadine called.
I wiggled my way through the crowd and stepped up to the bar and spotted Sylvester.
“St. Louis, what is up?”
“Not a damn thing except I don't have a drink in my hand.”
“What can I get you, my friend?”
“You know how I do. Tequila and pineapple for me, and a rum and Coke for Nadine.”
His face lit up at the mention of her name. “Nadine is here.”
I tilted my head to the right. “Yeah, she's over in the corner with my sister.”
“Tell her to come and holler at a brother.”
I tried not to laugh at his attempt at sounding hip. He sounded the way the Prince of Wales would after spending the afternoon with Snoop Dog.
While he made the drinks, I wiggled my hips to Destiny's Child's “I Need a Soldier.” Sing it, girls. They know exactly what a sistah needs in her life. Now if I could just find a soldier on this island, I just might be all right.
You would think after my earlier disaster, the last thing in the world I would be looking for is another man. I mean a sistah can take only so much disappointment in one day. However, nothing ventured, nothing gained. If I wanted to find my Mandingo prince before this trip was over, I couldn't quit looking after one flop. Hell, naw. I had to keep up the mission.
My eyes traveled around the room. Tall. Short. Fat. Skinny. And finally to the left of the room, I spotted fine.
The football players had a long table. The wives and girlfriends were there, of course. But Clayton and another player were sitting at the end of the table, unaccompanied. He was wearing boxer shorts with no shirt. Wide chiseled abs. Thick neck. At that exact moment, I knew before the night was over, I was going to ask Clayton O'Neal to dance.
Now I know what they say about ballplayers. Most of them have dicks the size of toothpicks. But there is no way in hell that could possibly be true about all of them. Why else would women be falling all over themselves to marry them? Okay, maybe the money does have a lot to do with it but, nevertheless, it's going to take a lot more than money to keep a sistah happy. Believe me. I know.
“St. Louis, here's your drinks.”
“Thanks, Sylvester.” When he leaned his elbow against the bar, I knew he wanted to chitchat. I was on a mission, but decided I could spare a few minutes. As a matter of fact, I could finish my drink and get a refill before I left. I tipped my cup and took a drink.
Another guy behind the bar moved over and stood beside him. Medium height. Dreadlocks. Mustache. Dimpled smile. I must say, he wasn't half bad.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hello,” I returned between sips.
“My name is Carlos. What's yours?”
Before I could even speak, Sylvester's cock-blocking ass intervened.
“Carlos, man, this here is Renee and she is already spoken for.”
Hold up a minute. “Whadda mean I'm spoken for?”
Sylvester looked at Carlos, not me. “She and Everton are an item.”
I practically choked on my drink. “The hell we are.”
He was cheesing like he had a secret to tell. “He told us you are his new American babe.”
I rolled my eyes and slid off the stool. “You tell Everton to kiss my black ass!”
I grabbed my drinks and stormed back to the table. I can't believe Everton's been running his damn mouth. I was tempted to leave the party and go back to his room and cuss his ass out, but decided I'd be better off staying the fuck away from his little-dick ass.
I flopped down into my seat and lowered the drinks onto the table. Nadine was on the floor, dancing and Lisa was sitting in her chair bobbing her head.
“What's wrong with you?” she asked the minute she saw my face.
I rested my elbow on the table before I spoke. “Girl, can you believe Everton has everyone thinking I'm his American babe.”
She laughed. “That's what you get for sleeping with him.”
I let out an exaggerated sigh. “I didn't sleep with him.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“It ain't no whatever. I went to his room. We talked. I let him kiss me and cop a few feels, then I left.”
“I'm your sister, and I know you better than anyone.”
“If you did, then you would know I didn't sleep with him.” I rose and moved out across the dance floor. My sister makes me so sick sometimes. She really thinks she knows me. Well, she doesn't. Okay, so maybe I did sleep with Everton, but how does she know that for sure? And I damn sure ain't telling her.
I moved across the room where Clayton was sitting with some Kermit-the-Frog-looking dude. Boldly, I stepped up to them.
“Damn, baby, you fine as hell!”
I glanced at his amphibian friend, smiled, then looked back at Clayton again. “Want to dance?”
“Sure.” He put his drink on the table and followed me out onto the dance floor.
They were playing Usher's, “Yeah.” I found us a spot in the middle of the floor. As I moved my hips to the beat, Clayton—bless his heart—swayed from side to side.
“You're not much of a dancer, are you?”
He gave me a boyish smirk. “Nah, but at least I got rhythm.”
I laughed. “That you do.”
“You probably already know this, but I'm Clayton O'Neal.”
“I'm Renee Moore. Now why would I already know your name?”
“You don't know who I am?”
I played dumb. I learned a long time ago that athletes are challenged by women who aren't falling all over their asses. “Should I?”
He looked pleased by my answer. “No. It's a pleasure to meet you, Renee.”
We danced several songs. If I could judge the way a brother moves in the bed by the way he dances, Clayton would lose. He continued to do that same tired dance. You would think with all the parties they attend that Clayton would have a little more soul. Oh, well, maybe he just needed someone to teach him. Now, dancing I don't mind giving a little assistance. Sex is a different story altogether.
My girls are always talking about you got to show a man what you like. No, I don't. Either he knows or he doesn't. I don't have time to teach a man how to fuck. Now, my brother says the problem with women is that they expect brothas to read their minds. And yes, for me, that is true. The first time, I'll try to steer you away from what I don't like, and closer to what I do. I'll moan to try to give you a hint, but if you can't catch on, your ass is history.
The music slowed down and Clayton pulled me gently into the circle of his arms, and, hallelujah, he moved like a brotha who knew what he was doing. See, that's what I'm talking about. He swayed from side to side, one-one-two, one-one-two, and I wrapped my arms around him and held on for the ride. Now that's what I call nice. I just might have to give Clayton a little something, something.
BOOK: In The Company of My Sistahs
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