Welfare Wifeys (19 page)

“You might wanna keep your eyes on the road, sis.”

“You know I’m an expert driver, T, which is more than I can say for your ass. Yo, do you remember when that trick-ass nigga Happy let you hold his Jeep and you got drunk and crashed it?” Gucci slapped the steering wheel laughing.

“I don’t know what you think is so funny about it seeing how it was you who gassed me to drink that cheap ass vodka. That shit is right up there with White Star Moet on my
DO NOT DRINK
list.”

“I thought Happy was gonna beat your ass for crashing his whip, but he was more concerned about the cut on your forehead than
the forty grand he lost on the car. And to top it off, when he came to pick us up from the hospital you threw up in his Lincoln. I heard that the suede interior stunk so bad that he had to rip everything out. Speaking of Happy, what’s up with that fool? I haven’t seen him since that ass whipping he took at Mochas.”

“He’s still around doing shit to people and getting away with it. His ass has started hanging around with that dude Levi,” Tionna informed her.

“Levi Brown?” Gucci shook her head. “As my grandma used to say, that is one of God’s surliest creatures.”

“You ain’t never lied, Gucci. You ever notice how he looks at you when you’re walking past him? It’s like he can see through your clothes.”

Gucci rubbed her arm. “Stop, you’re giving me the creeps, T. So is Happy still trying to see how far he can shove his head up your ass?”

“You know that. I had to change my number three times messing with his clingy ass.” Tionna huffed.

“Three times, why so many?”

“Because somehow he was able to get my number every time I changed it and it started getting on my fucking nerves. The first time he got it was off the Internet and the second time that dizzy bitch Boots gave it to him on her funny shit. When I checked her about it she tried to act like she didn’t know me and Happy wasn’t rocking no more. That ho just wanted to cause a situation.”

“Boots’s ass is so trifling,” Gucci said.

“Like we don’t all know that. Did you know that she still won’t come clean about letting Happy pop her head off.”

Gucci nearly sideswiped a parked car when she heard that. “She fucked Happy?”

“You didn’t know? I always suspected she was playing foul because of she used to try and be up under him all the time, but my lil home girl from 112th confirmed it. She peeped Boots coming outta Happy’s building on some five in the morning shit. I started to run
up in her trap over the shit, but I decided to be the bigger woman and just asked her if she was fucking him.”

“Of course she denied it,” Gucci said.

“You know she did. Boots looked into my face and went into the whole script of how we’re all like sisters and she’d never do that to me, but I know Boots’s style. I didn’t press her about it, I just let it be but best believe that I feed her with a long-handled spoon, ol’ washed-up ass!”

Gucci raised an eyebrow. “Let me find out you had more feelings for Happy than you let on.”

“Fuck Happy. He wasn’t nothing but an ATM that I let smell my pussy from time to time when I needed a few dollars. I could care less that she fucked Happy, but the fact that I’m supposed to be her girl and she lied when I asked her is what got me tight.”

“That’s ya home girl,” Gucci said sarcastically.

“Like you don’t fuck wit her too.”

“Only because
you
do, Tionna. I been told you that broke bitch wasn’t to be trusted, but you stayed fucking with her. When Tracy wanted to pound her out for stealing that half a bottle of perfume out of her crib, you were the first one to get in between them.”

“Gucci, you and I both know that Tracy would’ve slaughtered Boots if I had let it go down. Shit, it would’ve been a closed casket funeral.”

“Tracy is a beast when it comes to combat,” Gucci agreed. “What’s up with her anyway? It seems like every time I try to call her she’s either rushing to get off the phone or sending me to the voice mail.”

Tionna’s face suddenly became very serious. “I see her from time to time, but we don’t really hang no more. The streets are saying some real crazy shit about Tracy and her boo, Remo.”

“Like what?”

“Like that habit got them on some Bonnie and Clyde shit for a blast. I didn’t really pay the talk no mind at first, but when I saw her for myself I had to take a step back and ask what was good. I was
coming outta Pathmark late one night and I spotted her on Lex by the train station looking twenty pounds lighter and dressed real suspect. She had on some bullshit plastic cats suit that was split down to the crotch under a dusty black trench coat. Yo, I almost didn’t recognize our bitch out there.”

“Did you call her on it?” Gucci asked.

“You know I did, but she tried to play it like it was nothing. She said her and Remo had just come from the club and she was trying to be sexy for him, meanwhile this nigga is leaning against the chicken spot halfway in a nod. Remo looked like a decent gust of wind would’ve blown his ass over.”

“Now that I can believe. Animal told me that Don B. fired him, but wouldn’t say why. Now you know when your own nephew fires you, your ass ain’t ’bout shit!” Gucci said.

“As if that slimy muthafucka Don B. is any better,” Tionna said harshly.

“Damn, I can’t believe Tracy is out here caught up in that shit and we’re riding around having a good time,” Gucci said in a guilty tone. “Maybe we should try to get her into some type of treatment program?”

“Been there done that.” Tionna waved her off. “I tried to hint around about it a time or two and she just tried to downplay it talking about she’s just having fun with it.”

“And you believed it, seeing that she was twisted?” Gucci asked.

“What was I supposed to do? Drag her to Phoenix House kicking and screaming? Gucci, you know just as well as I do that an addict has to wanna get clean before they actually do. Look how long we’ve been trying to get my mother straight and all she keeps doing is fucking up.”

“Tionna, you know you’re wrong for that,” Gucci told her.

“The truth is the light, baby girl. Yvette has been chasing that dragon since we were kids.”

“But she’s clean now, and has been for a while, Tionna.”

“A temporary arrangement. You mark my words, as soon as we let our guards down that trick will be back at it,” Tionna said with a roll of her eyes.

Gucci abruptly pulled over and threw her hazards on. She removed her shades and gave Tionna a serious look. “Tionna, we’ve been friends for longer than I can remember so I ain’t gonna pull no punches, I’m just gonna come out and say it. I love you, but sometimes you can be a miserable bitch.”

“Me?” Tionna asked in disbelief.

“Yes,
you
. Look, T, I know Yvette has done some fucked-up shit over the years, but she’s never stopped trying to be a mother to you. Even when she was smoking she never let you see her high or getting high.”

“So because she tried to keep it a secret that makes it okay?”

“Of course I’m not saying that, but what I am saying is that Yvette was a better mother to you on drugs than a lot of mothers are to their kids sober. I can’t ever remember her not making sure you had stuff on Christmases and birthdays. Shit, still to this day she bakes you a cake every year even though your fat ass doesn’t need it,” Gucci joked and Tionna flipped her off. “But in all seriousness, Tionna, Yvette is doing good. The road to sobriety is a long and hard one, but I think with some well-placed support she can make it.” Gucci patted Tionna’s leg tenderly.

When Tionna looked up at Gucci her eyes were misty. “We’ll see.”

“Stubborn ass.” Gucci laughed and pulled back into traffic. As they sped down through Harlem Tionna did a double take at a luxury car that had stopped at what looked like a dice game. Her eyes zeroed in at a familiar profile but before she could make a positive ID of the dude in the red, Gucci bent the corner and took them out of sight.

“Five hundred in the bank, all money down is a bet and everything is good.”

Bruiser shook the dice in his meaty palm. He was a hard-faced man who everyone on the block knew as a career criminal and general troublemaker. He was surrounded by a few of his henchmen who were watching the dice game as well as the players. When dealing with them it wasn’t unheard of for an innocent dice game to turn into a stickup.

“Shoot fifty,” one onlooker called.

“A hundred over here.”

“Twenty he four or better!” someone offered a side bet.

Bruiser tossed the dice against the broken steps of the stoop and watched them spin. Two of the dice skipped and came up showing fives while the third bounced off the foot of a kid who was watching the game and landed on a one. The men who had their money down reached to collect their winnings but Bruiser stopped them.

“Hold on, I gotta roll that again,” Bruiser said, picking the dice back up.

“What you talking about, son? You aced,” a kid wearing a black Champion hoodie voiced.

“Ace my ass. That shit hit son’s foot and he ain’t got no money in it so the roll was no good.” Bruiser began shaking the dice again.

The kid in the hoodie frowned. “Nah, son, we ain’t even gonna have all that.” He reached for the money and Bruiser stopped him midreach.

“My dude, if you touch that bread then me and you are gonna have an issue out here.” Bruiser’s eyes had a playful glint to them, like a kid anticipating a schoolyard fight.

The dice got so quiet that you could hear a pin drop as everyone looked on wondering what was going to come of the situation. The kid with the hoodie knew Bruiser and how he gave it up, but he had already laid the gauntlet and couldn’t afford to lose face. With a gulp, he closed his hand around the crumpled bills and the shit hit the fan. Bruiser’s strike was so swift that even the people watching barely saw him swing. The kid wearing the hoodie rocked once on his heels before falling sideways and smacking his face against the curb. He looked like a dead roach lying there with his feet and legs curled in the air.

“Somebody drag this fool outta here so we can finish the game,” Bruiser said, shaking the dice. “Now like I was saying, five hundred in the bank.”

“I got it stopped!” a voice called from somewhere behind the crowd of onlookers. The crowd parted like the Red Sea as several men stalked toward the dice game in a wave of diamonds and braids. Dangling from the leader’s neck was a thick link chain with more diamonds than necessary in the cross hanging on the end of it. His wrist looked like it had been dipped in rock candy as he adjusted the bracelet wrapped around it. His ever-present blacked-out sunglasses sat lazily on the bridge of his nose, while red-rimmed eyes peered over them at the players of the game, soaking in Bruiser in particular.

“Oh, shit, it’s Don B.!” someone shouted. The knockout and dice game was forgotten as everyone flocked to the self-proclaimed Don of Harlem.

“Well, well, if it ain’t the hometown hero,” Bruiser said with a sneer. “What you doing back in the hood? Slumming?”

“I see you still got jokes, lil fella,” Don B. said sarcastically. “You know I gotta stay among my people, because without them I’m nothing.” He laughed sarcastically and adjusted his chain.

Bruiser looked him up and down. “I hear that hot shit. A
real
man of the people, huh?”

“You know how the Don does it.”

“That’s funny because all of your so-called people were at Born and his mother’s funeral except you. What up with that?” Bruiser put Don B. on blast.

Born had been Don B.’s right-hand man and original partner in Big Dawg Entertainment, before catching a lengthy prison sentence. When Born came home Don B. had offered him a position in the organization, but Born wanted to be a boss and tried to muscle his onetime best friend. Not long after they’d had a very public falling out, Born and his mother were gunned down on their way to church one Sunday morning. Don B. was never formally accused of playing a part in the murder, but the streets whispered that the order had come from his lips.

Don B. smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “Unfortunately I was unable to make it because I was always on business, but if you keep your ears to the streets like most niggaz at your level do, then I’m sure you heard that I not only paid for the services but I turned over a percentage of the company to his son. Lil nigga is a millionaire and he’s only ten, smell me?”

“Ya new video is so fly, Don B.” A big-breasted girl inched closer to the rapper. Her eyes told the whole story without her having to say a word.

“You know how we do it on my side, baby, it’s all about eye candy.” He did a little spin so she could check his gear.

“Candy? You rappers niggaz kill me wit ya silly shit.” Bruiser
sucked his teeth and went back to shaking the dice. “What’s good, B., ain’t nobody shooting no more? I know y’all niggaz ain’t scared of this lil five hundred?” Bruiser addressed the crowd but most of them were now focused on Don B.

“I said I had it stopped, what happened?” Don B. asked.

“No bet to you, Don,” Bruiser said.

“What, my money ain’t no good?” Don B. pulled out a large bankroll and began fanning through the bills in front of Bruiser. The look in Bruiser’s eyes was a murderous one, but Don B. knew that he wasn’t stupid enough to try him with Devil hovering so close. Bruiser was a tough guy, but Devil was a seasoned killer.

“Nah, I ain’t trying to take your money, Don. I hear niggaz who eat outta your hand come up dead?” Bruiser said slyly.

Devil had finally tired of Bruiser’s mouth and stepped forward but Don B. waved him back. “Yeah, I lost a few homeys but they lived like kings when they were here,” Don B. shot back. “Now, you gonna keep running ya yap or throw them bones? Imma take that bum-ass weed money you stunting with a trick it off at the strip club.” This drew snickers from everybody who was watching.

Bruiser’s ego finally got the best of him. “Fuck it,
superstar,
I’ll take ya bet.” He threw the dice and they showed two threes and a four. “Four is always a fighter.”

Don B. snatched the dice in his jeweled hand and began to shake them. “Blow on these for me, love.” Don B. held the dice out to the big-breasted girl.