Booty Call *69 (19 page)

I’m tempted to tell her about Danny, but I decide to keep my mouth shut about that one. That’s too much information to be exposing right now.

Naja stays over at my house for the remainder of the evening. We change our minds about going out. Instead we rent movies, call Latish and help my mother prepare for Thanksgiving dinner.

That little meeting with the detectives will be kept a secret between Naja and me. She made a vow not to tell anyone about what I’ve told her. I trust her.

It’s Thanksgiving Day, and more than twenty relatives and friends are coming over. My day is all planned out. First I’m going to have dinner with my family, and then my girlfriends and I will head out to Newark, New Jersey, where there’s a huge party jumping off tonight. We are definitely going to that.

My moms cooked mashed potatoes, string beans, rice and peas, macaroni, collard greens, yams, roast beef, stuffing, ham, fish and turkey. She also baked five sweet potato pies and one large chocolate cake. Even though my moms acts ghetto sometimes, she can definitely cook. My grandmother was one of the greatest cooks in the South, and she passed that gift on to my mother.

By two, my uncles, Jimbo and Jimmy, arrive. They’re the two who got into that fistfight. My mother said she would throw them both out if they don’t behave themselves this year.

My cousin, Pamela, shows up with her third husband in four years, and my cousin, Sharice, shows up with her three bad-ass little boys. My Uncle Leon is with his gold-digging girlfriend. That bitch has on more jewelry than Mr. T from the A-Team. Then there’s my Aunt Samantha, who’s more promiscuous than me, my mother
and
my Aunt Tina combined. She’s wearing some old fashioned, eighties fishnet stockings, bamboo earrings, a mini skirt and a sultry attitude. My perverted Uncle Penny and my always-staying-drunk Uncle Lake are on the scene. And last but not least, my cousin Jade is here. She’s from Forty Projects, and she is my girl. She’s a few years younger than me, but she can hold it down. I could go on and on
about my dysfunctional family.

My Uncle Penny keeps trying to hit on Naja, talkin’ ‘bout she got pretty legs. He’s an embarrassment. Then my other two uncles, Jimbo and Jimmy, try to get into Latish’s pants. She plays along, flirting with them. They’re my family and all, but those two are disgusting. They’re both unemployed and would fuck anything with a pulse and a pussy between its legs. I admit, though, they’re attractive men, but they have no kind of ambition at all.

“Damn, g-i-r-r-l, why you lookin’ so fine, wit’ yo beautiful self?” my cousin Ellis says to me. He just walked in a few minutes ago. I chuckle and give him a little smile. I think he’s funny. He just came up from Delaware with his butt-ugly girlfriend, Shannon. That bitch is so ugly, she makes dogs scream and howl. But my uncle loves and sports her around like she’s a prize-winning trophy.

“Shana, get your perverted Uncle Penny away from me,” Naja pleads.

“What da matter, girl? You don’t like to have a good time?” my crazy, nasty and drunk, Uncle Penny says to Naja. There’s a cup of whiskey in his hand.

“Uncle Penny, will you please leave my friend alone?” I beg him.

“What da matter, Shana, she a lesbian or somethin’?” he asks looking at her strangely.

“Oh, no he didn’t. Shana, do something with him before I have to smack him,” Naja says.

“I will, just go in my bedroom,” I say. She walks away looking over her shoulder, to make sure Uncle Penny doesn’t follow her. I start pushing him in the opposite direction, assuring her that he won’t come anywhere
near her. But you can’t blame my uncle entirely; Naja is wearing a tight-ass mini skirt that stops at mid-thigh, hooker heels and her cleavage is showing in a low-cut top.

Minutes later, Naja comes to get me with this bugged out expression on her face. “Shana, come here and look at this shit,” she says, leading me to my bedroom.

I follow her. I can’t believe my eyes when I reach my bedroom and open the door. I see Latish making out with my uncles, Jimbo and Jimmy, on my fuckin’ bed. Is
she crazy?
“Bitch, you crazy?” I shout, startling them.

“Oh, shit, I thought y’all locked the door,” Latish says rising up from between them, looking surprised.

I’m about ready to kill that bitch along with both of my uncles. Naja stands at my side, just shaking her head in disbelief. Latish’s skirt is hiked up, her shirt is unbuttoned and her hair looks a wreck. Both my uncles have their pants off. I step into the room and slam the door behind me. All three of them just look at me, probably too shocked to say anything.

“Shana, let me explain,” Latish says awkwardly.

“Explain what—that you’re a nasty bitch?!”

Both of my uncles retrieve their pants from off the floor. I feel like I’m about to vomit. It’s a horrendous sight, and it caught me totally off guard.

“Shana, I’ll wait for you out in the hallway,” Naja says leaving the room.

“First of all, y’all need to get the fuck up out of my room!” I shout. “And second, y’all need to get the fuck outta this house!”

“C’mon, Shana, we were just having some fun,” my Uncle Jimbo says buttoning his jeans.

“Not in
my
fuckin’ house and especially not in
this
fuckin’ room. All three of y’all must’ve been smoking crack!”

My mother walks into my room, with Naja following not too far behind. She looks around and immediately knows what’s going down.

“I know both of my brothers must be crazy to have thought that they were going to fuck in my daughter’s room.”

“C’mon, sis, it ain’t even like that,” Uncle Jimmy says.

“And Latish, I’m surprised at you; I thought you had much better taste than these two.”

“But Ms. Banks, they paid me.”

“What?!” my mother and I shout simultaneously.

“Y’all think I’m running some fuckin’ brothel in my house?” my moms continues to shout.

By now the whole family hears all the ruckus going on in my room. They gather around the door and peer inside to see what’s going on. My mother’s going crazy, throwing things at her brothers and trying to smack them across their heads. Naja’s holding her hand over her mouth, trying to hold back her laughter. Latish, embarrassed, just rushes out of the room. I follow her. She reaches the front doorway, and I grab her by the shoulder and spin her around.

“Where you going, bitch? This shit ain’t over!”

“Shana, I’m sorry, but they forced me to.”

“My uncles ain’t force you to do shit!” I yell with my fists tightly clenched, feeling about ready to knock this bitch out for disrespecting me in my own home.

She looks petrified. I decide not to hit her. It wouldn’t even be worth it. But she now has two strikes against her—one for fucking my man,
even though they both deny it, and now this. Just one more and I’m definitely going to fuck this bitch up.

“You know what…everyone get the fuck out!” my moms shouts walking into the living room. I turn to look at her. She’s about to blow a gasket.

“C’mon, sis, don’t spoil it for everyone,” Uncle Jimmy says walking up behind her.

“You shut the fuck up. I’m ‘bout to kill both of y’all,” my mother threatens.

Before I can even turn back around, Latish is already out the door and gone. Then Naja comes up to me and says, “G-i-r-r-l, your family’s crazy. I’m gone. You still down for tonight?”

I just look at her. Minutes later, everyone starts collecting their things and leaving the house, one by one. My moms, mad as hell, retreats to her bedroom. Thanksgiving is officially over, and once again, her brothers, Jimmy and Jimbo, have ruined it for everyone.

Everyone is finally gone, leaving my mother and me to clean up everything. There are tons of dishes that need to be washed, the living room is in shambles and there are crumbs everywhere. Plates and cups are on top of the TV, coffee table and stereo—not to mention my room—that shit needs to be disinfected, sterilized, washed and sprayed down.

Jakim comes by later. He sees how upset I am and tries to comfort me the best he can, but it’s just not working. He even volunteers to help me and my mother clean the house. When I tell him about Latish, he has nothing good to say about her. He calls her a nasty slut.

After all the cleaning and rearranging is done, Jakim and I settle in my room for the night, where I thank him personally. I softly kiss him on
the neck as I unbutton his shirt. Then I slide my hand down to his crotch and squeeze gently. He moans and closes his eyes. I slowly undress him until he’s butt naked. I push him down onto my bed—on new bed sheets of course—and tell him to watch me undress. He smiles up at me. I slowly come out of my skirt, panties and bra. He’s hard. I run my hands across my body and approach him as he grips his erection. I climb on top of him, straddling him, as he slides his dick into me. I gasp and start to ride him, my palms flat against his chest. I lean forward and whisper in his ear. “Baby, I never stopped loving you.”

“Same here; I still love you,” he replies.

“Fuck me,” I gently say.

He grips my hips and goes to work, thrusting his pelvis back and forth, causing me to pant and cry out. “I love you, Shana!”

“Hold me,” I cry out as I fuck him, bending forward and laying my breasts against his chest as he holds me in his arms.

“I got you, baby. I got you,” he assures me.

“Thank you.”

“Shana, I’m gonna love you forever.” I feel wanted and needed. Still on top of him, I start to cry, and he holds me all night. I feel safe with him. I believe in him. And I’ll never stop loving him.

I can’t do it anymore. I want to stop jumping from woman to woman and be with Shana. She makes me happy. It looks like we’re finally getting back together again. Thanksgiving night was the best. I didn’t want to leave her side. Since we started fuckin’ again, all I do is think about her night and day. Yo, I’m in love.

I cruise in my Maxima, singing along to a song by Method Man on the radio. I’m on my way to meet Tyrone at a lounge on Merrick Boulevard. It’s a cold Saturday night, and I’m in a good mood. I asked Shana if she wanted to come along, but she declined.

My phone rings. I look at the caller ID, and I sigh as I glance at the number. It’s Latish.
I gotta cut this bitch off
. I can’t risk my relationship with Shana by fuckin’ wit’ this bitch. I reluctantly answer the call. “Yo, what up?”

“Jakim, I wanna see you,” she says.

I think on what Shana told me about Latish being with her uncles. She’s a freak. “Yo, we need to talk,” I say.

“Talk about what? I wanna see you tonight.”

“Well, that can’t happen. I’m busy tonight.”

“So tomorrow night then…please,” she begs. “It’s really important.”

I think about it. “Aiight, tomorrow night. I’ll come through around nine.”

“Okay. So who you seeing tonight?” she asks, prying into my business.

“Yo, I’ll see you tomorrow night,” I say and hang up.

Fuckin’ bitch. I need to cut her loose. Her pussy is good and all, but it just ain’t worth it. My perverted mind contemplates fuckin’ her one last time before calling it quits.

I race to meet up with Tyrone. I’m excited and can’t wait to break the news to him about Shana and me. I want to tell him that he was wrong. I was persistent and got what I wanted. He wants me to move on and forget about Shana, and think that it’s all right to find ‘em, fuck ‘em and forget about ‘em. That’s his playa theory.

I park a block away from the Midnight Lounge. It’s crowded because there’s a two-for-one special on drinks till midnight. That always brings out all the ladies and drunks. I parade past the crowd lined up outside like I’m a celebrity. I’m definitely on cloud nine. I get to the door and see that they’re charging ten dollars for admission. But Tyrone put me on the list. He’s partial owner of the lounge, so that gives me special privileges. Security recognizes me and lets me slide right on in without a hassle.

I navigate my way through the dense crowd and head toward the back. The bar is swarming with customers, ready to take advantage of the discount for the night. The Midnight Lounge is a cozy and snug, two-level
joint, and there’s a DJ every Friday and Saturday night. Spongy red sofas and spherical dark blue glass tables are situated throughout the place. The lighting is dim and the music is contemporary.

I make my way up the spiral staircase, passing a very voluptuous woman in a black, tight mini dress. She throws me a quick smile and continues on down the stairs.

Tyrone is in a private section on the second floor in the back. It’s his VIP area. He has bottles of Cristal, Hypnotiq, Moet and Belvedere on the table. He’s sitting with his arm around a beautiful Dominican woman with thick red lips. “My niggah, Jakim, came through,” he says, standing up as I approach him. He gives me dap and a quick, manly hug. His companion glances up at me and smiles.