Single Ladies (10 page)

A knock at the door caught Dre's attention while he stood in the living room of his apartment ironing his clothes. He walked over to the door and looked out the peephole to see Lisa standing there. When he opened the door he knew that something was wrong, because she was crying. Her husband must have found out about them. He reached out and grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the apartment.

“Come on, sit down,” he told her, pulling out a chair from under the kitchen table. “You hungry? You want something to drink?” he asked, opening the refrigerator.

Lisa shook her head, not really feeling like ingesting anything right now. She was sick right now and the only thing that kept going through her head was Ralphy telling her that he wanted a divorce.

Dre put a glass of water on the table in front of her then pulled out another chair for him to sit in. “So he found out?” he asked, scooting his chair up closer.

She just nodded her head. Dre was sympathetic, but only to a certain extent. He couldn't care less about how Ralphy felt. In his mind, she wasn't his to begin with.

“Ay, do you remember that time we broke up for like a week when we were in middle school back in the day?” he asked, grabbing her hand. “Do you remember what I told you the day that we got back together?” he asked.

Lisa managed to crack a smile. She remembered it like it was yesterday. Dre was always good with words. “You told me that we were going to spend the rest of our lives together,” Lisa said, wiping the tears from her face.

“I swear to you, Lisa, my heart feels the same way it did back then. My love for you—”

“He's divorcing me,” Lisa said, cutting him off. “My husband is divorcing me,” she repeated.

Dre watched as a few tears fell from her eyes after she said that. Their relationship was deeper then what he thought it was. She really did love her husband and now Dre was starting to feel guilty because he was the one who broke up a happy home. It wasn't Ralphy he was concerned about; it was Lisa.

All he ever wanted to do was make her happy and he thought that if they were together he was going to be able to do that. Instead, he was doing the exact opposite of what he intended in the first place. Seeing how heartbroken she was behind being divorced, Dre saw that her intention to be with him was there, but her heart was in another place.

* * *

Annet stood behind Falisha in the middle of Ms. D's living room doing her hair. Falisha was only getting a touch-up to make her braids look brand new for Ernie's party tonight. The word in the neighborhood was that the party was supposed to be jumping. Ernie had about a hundred people coming, most of whom were gay.

“Daaaamn!” Falisha said, seeing Kim walk through the front door looking nice.

Kim had on a gray belted wrap dress that was well above her knees, and a pair of Valentino Garavani pointed-toe pumps. In her hand was a white Alexander McQueen clutch and on her face was a big-ass smile.

“You musta got some dick,” Falisha joked, looking at the new glow Kim had.

“Girl, shut up. Ain't nobody got no time for humping,” Kim lied, trying to hide it. “I'm just tryin' to make it rain tonight.” She laughed, bouncing her shoulder up and down.

“Where da hell is everybody else?” Kim asked, looking around the house.

As soon as she said that, Tammy came walking in the door. She too looked different and she had a brand new attitude along with a nice outfit. It was rare that Tammy got dressed up but when she did, it was big. She had on an all-white Karen Millen mesh bandage dress that hugged her petite shape and a pair of black Salvatore Ferragamos. In her hand was a black-and-white tote, and on her face was a pair of Victoria Beckham shades. She definitely dug in the closet for this look.

“‘Throw it up, throw it up. Watch it all fall out,'” Tammy sang, sounding just like Rihanna.

“Yo, I'm jealous,” Falisha said, looking at Tammy and Kim. “What in da hell got into y'all bitches?” She laughed. They both were sitting there like two high school girls getting ready to go to a party.

“I don't know about Kim but I'm single and if I get drunk enough somebody's getting some pussy,” Tammy joked but was kind of serious.

“Girl, Chris gon' kill you.” Falisha smiled.

“Chris better worry about his other baby mother I just met the other day,” Tammy responded.

Falisha's and Kim's jaws dropped and their eyes shot wide open.

“Yeah, and she's white. I saw the little girl and she look just like dat nigga,” Tammy told them.

“Oh, my God, girl. Are you okay?” Kim asked, knowing that it must have hurt to find that out.

“Shit, girl, I'm fine. I'm not gonna let that ruin my night. We goin' out to drink, have fun, and make it rain on dem niggas at da club,” Tammy said.

“Did anybody see Lisa? I haven't talked to her all day,” Falisha said, getting up from the chair and walking over to the window to see if her car was out front.

“Girl, you know her and Ralphy goin' through something right now,” Kim answered. “I doubt if she comes.”

Falisha whipped out her phone anyway and tried to call her but she didn't get an answer. She then texted Lisa to see if she would answer, but she didn't. Falisha looked down at the clock on her phone and shook her head, seeing that it was already nine-thirty. Ernie's party started at ten o'clock and it was going to take at least forty-five minutes to get to the Mandingo's Den.

“Look, we running a little late as it is, so I'ma text Lisa with the address to the club and we'll meet up with her later. She got her own car so she should be all right,” Falisha suggested.

Everybody agreed. Falisha, Kim, Tammy, and Annet all checked themselves one last time in the mirror before heading out the door.

* * *

Ralphy pulled up to his old block on Washington Avenue where at one point in his life he sold drugs. It'd been so long since he'd actually been in the streets but, still, the hood knew who he was. Before he started dating Lisa, he was the man in his hood. A lot of people feared him but most loved him. Aside from the countless shootings, the many fist fights, and the unlimited amount of cocaine he sold, Ralphy showed the hood love.

“Seeing you is like seeing a ghost,” Scoop, an old friend, said, walking up to Ralphy. He gave Ralphy a thug hug, mainly because he missed him. They were like best friends when Ralphy was on the block and ever since Ralphy got married and had his daughter, Scoop only saw Ralphy every once in a while.

“Aw, playboy. Don't do me like dat. You know ya boy still love ya.” Ralphy laughed, throwing a jab at Scoop's arm.

Ralphy and Scoop walked down the street, catching up as much as they could with the current events going on in the neighborhood. Scoop even managed to grab a forty-ounce bottle of Olde English for old times' sake.

“So what's really going on, brah? I know you ain't stop by just to catch up on old times,” Scoop said, knowing there was a reason behind this visit.

“Damn, a nigga can't just chill with his partna?” Ralphy laughed, seeing Scoop was still sharp as a knife.

“Come on, nigga. I knew you for how long? Ten years, my nigga.” He smiled. “What, you tryin' to get back in da game?” Scoop asked with a little excitement.

“Nah, playboy. I'm done with da game. But what I do need is some heat,” Ralphy said with a straight face.

Scoop looked at him and saw that he was dead serious. He knew something or somebody must have ticked Ralphy off for him to be wanting to deal with his problem by way of pistol. Scoop wasn't going to ask any questions, though. The less he knew the better. Scoop reached under his T-shirt and grabbed a black ten-shot .40-caliber off his waist. He cocked it back slightly to make sure a bullet was in the chamber.

“Yo, dis my bitch. You take good care of her, and I wouldn't care who you shoot with it. Bring my baby back to me. I'll give you a more permanent gun tomorrow,” Scoop said, but not before kissing his gun, then passing it off to Ralphy. “Do you need a codefendant?” Scoop asked, willing and ready to ride with his boy.

Scoop was a wild boy. He reminded Ralphy of O-Dog from
Menace II Society.
He was young, black, and just didn't give a fuck. He would shoot anybody, and wouldn't care if it was broad daylight with a hundred people looking on. If it were any other type of drama, Ralphy would have taken him along for the ride. But this trip was a solo trip. Ralphy only had one person in mind he wanted to kill, so it was best that he did it on his own. Shit had gotten real now and the only thing that could save the person he wanted to kill was God.

* * *

“Happy Birthdaaaay!” the crowd yelled out all together. Bottles starting popping, the music started thumping through the speakers and everybody started dancing. Ernie had the club jumping with all of his gay friends. Surprisingly there were a lot of females there, most of whom were lesbians, but there was also a nice amount of straight women as well to support.

One thing about the gay community is they do it big. Gay men always seem to have the most beautiful female friends, so for the few straight men who were in the building, it was like heaven.

“Happy Birthday, baby girl,” Falisha walked up and said to Ernie, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. Tammy, Kim, and Annet all did the same thing as they passed him their gifts they brought for him.

“Thank y'all,” Ernie spoke, sitting up in his birthday chair. “I hope y'all brought a lot of dollars.” He laughed, swaying back and forth to the music.

On cue, the music shut off and the lights went dim. In Mandingo's Den, the strippers had three stages to dance on so once the music cranked back up, everybody who knew better rushed the stages.

Mongoose the Stripper crawled out onto the center stage, seductively freaking his body to Lil Wayne's “Lollipop” song. He had on a pair of 7 For All Mankind jeans and some construction Timberlands boots. His tank top was ripped off immediately, revealing his cut-up body. The gay men who knew better had taken up the front of the center stage. They were throwing dollars like it wasn't nothing.

Tyson, another stripper, came out on the other stage, but he danced his way to the floor level. He had on nothing but a pair of Speedos and a lifeguard T-shirt. He seductively ripped his shirt off as well, crunching his stomach to flash his six pack. A crowd of men, and a couple of women, gathered around him and made it rain all on top of him.

Elephant Trunk, Louisville Slugger, Bananas, and Foot Long all danced their way out from backstage onto the floor. The whole club went crazy.

“Oh, shit!” Falisha yelled out as Elephant Trunk danced over to their section.

A crowd gathered around him almost instantly, including Tammy, Kim, Falisha, and Annet. They were all yelling and screaming and throwing dollars on top of him as he humped the floor to the rhythm of the music.

“Make it rain, bitchessss!” Tammy shouted, flicking ones from her stack onto him.

Tammy was having a ball. Hell, everybody was having a ball. Ernie was really showing his ass, though. He jumped up on the table and started shaking his ass. His gay friends were throwing dollars at him like he was one of the dancers.

“Ernie ballin' out, yo,” Annet yelled out, pointing across the room to where he was at.

After about thirty minutes of the dancers being out on the floor, all of them as if on cue danced their way back behind stage. Everybody clapped at their performance thinking that it was all over. Then, the lights went dim and the music shut off again. You could still hear clapping and whistling in the crowd.

When the lights came back on, Harold, Ernie's best friend, was standing on the center stage with a microphone in his hand. He motioned with his hands for the people to settle down and, when they did, he spoke.

“Thanks for coming out, everybody. I wanna call my good friend Ernie up to the stage,” he said, waving for Ernie to join him.

Ernie and his chair were escorted to the stage where he sat like he was a diva.

“You know we had to save the best for last,” Harold said, smiling and clapping. “Happy Birthday, Ernie,” he said, and then backed down off the stage.

The lights got dim again, then they began flashing wildly all throughout the club. Ernie looked around trying to figure out what was going on, smiling from the excitement. Then a voice spoke through the speakers: “Now coming to the stage, the moment you've all been waiting for: Mandingo!”

Kelly Rowland's song “Motivation” came through the airwaves, then from behind the curtain and onto the stage came Mandingo, the best male dancer in the club. He was such a good dancer they named the club after him.

He glided out onto the stage with a cowboy hat down over his face, a pair of leather pants with fringe on them, and some cowboy boots. He danced around Ernie's chair seductively, making Ernie have to fan himself with the stack of dollar bills he had in his hand. First, the dancer danced out of his leather pants, and then he took off his hat to reveal his face. Ernie threw the whole stack of money in the air, and then fell back in the chair like he had passed out.

When the dancer turned around to dance for the crowd, he beat on his buff chest and snarled. Falisha and the girls were sitting at their tables pouring shots of Patrón. Annet just so happened to look up on the stage, and damn near choked on her own spit when she saw the dancer gyrating his body all over the place. She tapped Falisha, who looked up at the stage. Falisha tapped Kim, who looked up and actually did choke on her shot of Patrón.

They all sat there with their mouths wide open and in total shock that, before their eyes, standing on the stage wearing nothing but a G-string and a pair of cowboy boots, was none other than their very own Lamar.