Cheaters (43 page)

Darnell interjected, “Dawn.”

She stopped the showdown and went back to eating.

The old folks were in the middle of their own conversation, talking about their own issues, not really paying attention.

All except Pops. His eyes were in one direction, but his ears were like surround sound, picked up everything.

The doorbell rang again.

Momma called out, “Somebody get that. That’s probably Debra coming back for something.”

Kids stumbled and ran to the front of the house.

I heard her talking before I saw her.

I cringed. Felt my throat tighten.

It couldn’t be her. No way.

But it was.

Toyomi tramped into the dining room, tight jean shorts smothering the firmness of her backside. Peach blouse, serious attitude. The driver’s side of her body was tanned from the long haul from Palm Springs.

Everybody saw something brewing in Toyomi’s eyes, then looked my way. Then they did something they never did, not even in the middle of an earthquake.

They stopped eating.

Toyomi smiled.

That bothered the fuck out of me.

Momma, Pops, and everybody else braced for the confrontation they knew was about to jump off. I didn’t realize I was sitting there with a mouth full of ribs until I tried to say something and damn near choked to death.

My Bible-toting Aunt Anabella shifted her double wide ass and laughed so hard her cubby cheeks danced like jello. “You a’right, boy?”

Uncle Glen smiled like an idiot. “Leave him alone, Ana.”

Momma cleared her throat, then cut her eyes at me. “Don’t be rude to your company, Stephan.”

She went back to pretending she was more interested in her food than the situation. Everybody followed her lead and stuck their forks back in their food. Momma would let things flow so long as they didn’t get too nasty.

“Afternoon, Toyomi.” I clucked my tongue on the roof of my mouth. “Long time no see.”

My leg started to shake. In my peripheral, Chanté was checking out Toyomi, gazing up and down. Chanté eased away from me.

My heart crept up to my throat when I realized how many sharp knives were on the table. My mind told me Toyomi wasn’t that crazy. My heart told me I’d never know until I screamed.

Toyomi slid her purse off her right shoulder and caught it with her left hand as she walked around the table.

Again she and Chanté made eye contact.

“Hello, Momma Faye.” Toyomi leaned over and kissed Momma’s face. Momma kissed Toyomi back. That pissed me off.

Toyomi spoke to Dawn, Darnell. Dawn didn’t hesitate to hop up and hug Toyomi like they were long-lost sisters.

“Nice to see you again, Papa Jerry!” Toyomi sounded so excited. She kissed him. He chuckled and blushed like an elementary-school boy. She rubbed the top of his bald head.

She gave individual greetings to Aunt Edwonda, Aunt Anabelle, and Uncle Glen, then had the nerve to lean forward and put her elbows on the table, damn near stuck her buttocks in Chanté’s face, while she got all into my family’s business.

“How’s your diabetes, Aunt Edwonda? Still thinking about buying that boat, Uncle Glen? You bring one of your slamming sweet potato pies with the homemade crust, Aunt Ana?”

Chanté had chewed her ribs so much she had a mouth full of rib soup by now.

Toyomi shot Chanté a curt “Hi.”

“And ‘Hi’ to you, too.”

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Toyomi said. “Are you a relative?”

“No, I’m not.”

“A friend of the family?”

Dawn interjected, “That’s Stephan’s
date
, Soror.”

I had to jump in. “Toyomi, what, you stopped by to say hi?”

“Stephan,” Momma said. “Offer Toyomi something to eat.”

“Thank you, no,” Toyomi said with enough sweetness to

overdose a honey bee. “I’m not hungry. Not at this moment.”

Dawn said, “Pull up a chair next to Stephan.”

“I’m only going to be here a couple of minutes.”

I asked Chanté, “Could you excuse me for a moment?”

Chanté had a crooked smile. “Go right ahead.”

Toyomi gazed over at Chanté, all comfortable and welcome. Stared for a second before we headed toward the front door.

I went through the dining room first, but when I reached the living room, she jostled past me. I followed, felt everybody glaring at the back of my head.

Little Akeem and Nathan Junior rushed in just before we could get out the front door. Nathan Junior’s mouth dropped open.

“Toy,” Nathan Junior said. “What the heck are you doing here?”

Toyomi tsked. “Well, ain’t that rude.”

Akeem’s eyes bucked.

“Ooooo!” Akeem blurted out, “Uncle Step got two girlfriends up in the house! Ooooooo-weeeeee! Mack daddy, daddy mack!”

Nathan Junior clamped his hands over Akeem’s mouth. He said, “Pay him no mind. He got dropped on his head when he was born. He’s crazy.”

Toyomi hissed through her teeth, “Akeem, was that necessary?”

He responded, “Don’t hate the player, hate the game!”

Toyomi didn’t see the humor. She slapped on her shades, rushed out the door. She stopped by Chanté’s car. Her arms folded, raised her breasts a good five inches.

I took my time getting to her.

“What’s up?” I asked.

She snatched her shades off so hard one of the lenses popped out. “Who is she?”

I stayed calm. “Who is who?”

“You know who.”

“A friend.”

“Is she the best you could do?”

The point was, and I knew it, no matter what the other woman looked like, fault would be found. Too short, too

tall, too black, too light, hair too long, hair too short, too fat, too skinny.

“Toyomi,” I said. “Get your finger out of my face.”

“Why did you bring her over here? Everybody stared at me like I was a damn joke, and you had that need-a-perm-looking bush bitch sitting all up under you—”

“You don’t know her, how are you going to pass judgment?”

“Hos attract each other.”

“And since you went out with me, what does that make you?”

I thought she was going to jump out of her skin and bite me. She took a few steps toward her car, then charged back with a kamikaze glower in her Asian eyes.

“Toyomi, what do you want, huh?”

While she stared evilly at me, the front door opened. Chanté came out, putting her shades on. She had her purse over her shoulder.

Toyomi muttered, “I ought to kick her ass.”

Chanté followed the cobblestone walkway to the driveway. Her slow stride brought her to me. She said, “Hello.”

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she said. “I’m leaving.”

Toyomi said, “You’re not finished eating, are you?”

“Lost my appetite. Drama upsets my tummy.”

Chanté looked at me, waited for me to say something. Then her eyes wandered back to Toyomi’s warlike glare. She smiled, extended her hand. “My name is Chanté Ellis.”

Toyomi hiked her purse back on her shoulder, mimicked Chanté’s posture, said a profound “Toyomi Wilkins.”

When they touched, Toyomi’s nostrils flared.

Chanté asked, “And you’re Stephan’s, what?”

“Girlfriend.”

I said, “Ex-girlfriend.”

“Okay,” Chanté sang, “slight difference of opinion.”

Toyomi asked Chanté, “And you are Stephan’s what?”

I interjected, “She’s my date.”

Chanté tilted her head. “Date?
Okay.
My bad.”

“Chanté, let me finish with Toyomi and I’ll be right back—”

Chanté said coolly, “Stephan, can I have a word or two with you? That is, if Toyomi doesn’t mind.”

“Go right ahead.” Toyomi headed back toward the house, some sort of indication of squatter’s rights, I supposed.

Momma was in the door and held it open for Toyomi.

“Stephan,” Chanté ran her hands over her hair, then machine-gunned, “I don’t appreciate this situation. You left me sitting at the dinner table while you ran outside behind a hooch who has her pants stuck all up the crack of her butt.”

“Look, it’s not all that.”

“If she drove from Palm Springs, it must be
all that.
She knew everybody in your family. Walked in, everybody hugging and kissing on her. Looks like she’s already part of the family.”

“Don’t trip.”

“You hear all of your relatives laughing?”

“No.”

“You need your hearing checked. They laughed so loud, people in China turned around. That humiliated me.”

“They’re country. They watch reruns of
Hee Haw
, so they’ll laugh at anything.”

“What about ‘Don’t hate the player, hate the game’?”

“Akeem is just a child. He watches too much MTV and BET.”

“Maybe you should go play with him, partner.”

Somebody was spying out the window; the curtains were moving side to side. The front door opened, and a stream of children in cutoff shorts and bathing suits dashed out and headed next door.

Akeem stopped and pointed. “Oooooo!”

Nathan Junior slapped his hand and dragged him away.

Akeem screamed, “Player, player!”

They ran away like roaches when the lights come on.

Chanté said, “I guess you train ‘em when they start walking.”

“I apologize for this scene,” I said.

She didn’t say anything. Her look was distant, face going through subtle changes that let me know she was thinking a thousand thoughts a second.

Tasked, “What’re you thinking?”

“Locusts. Just like locusts.”

“What?”

Chanté snapped out of her thoughts and firmed her stance. “Stephan, lose my number. Forget my address. Have a nice life. And if you see me at Shelly’s, act like you don’t know me, and I’ll do the same.”

“You’re going to leave me here?”

“Yep.”

“I rode with you.”

“You can make it back to Pomona, partner. If Darnell and
his wife
won’t take you home, get somebody with shorts riding up the crack of her booty to drop you off between here and Palm Springs.”

“Are you serious?”

Ghanté’s tone was hard. “I’m just your
date
, partner. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Chanté got into her car and drove off, left me curbside. Before her car disappeared, Toyomi’s immature butt came out the house carrying two paper plates with foil wrapped around the tops. She goose-stepped right up to me.

I snapped at her, “You want your stuff?”

“I drove all the way out here, so I must want my stuff.”

“Toyomi, you came in a Saab. How do you expect to fit all of that in that car?”

She backed off a bit, shook her head.

She asked, “Your friend left?”

“What do you think?”

She set free a contrived laugh to match her devilish smirk.

I asked, “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Fucking with me. Why do you keep fucking with me?”

She answered my question with a question. “Was it that easy for you to just walk away?”

“What? You broke it off. Remember, I came back to you and you ran me out of Palm Springs. You messed up my car, tore up my suits, left that foul message on my door.”

“So what? You wasted over a year of my life, and it didn’t mean a damn thing to you, did it? It’s only been fifty-seven days. If I meant anything to you, at least you could’ve called.”

I massaged my temples, closed my eyes, wishing that she

had never been born. When I opened them, she was still there.

Toyomi let out a sad, nervous laugh. “I was looking through the pictures we took skiing, hiking—”

I threw in, “The ones you didn’t destroy.”

“I kept a few. We took more pictures than I realized. Guess we did all kinds of things I’d taken for granted. I didn’t mean to pressure you like I did. What we had was good.”

I sighed.

Toyomi asked, “Is there any chance that we can get back together, Stephan?”

Before she finished that sentence, I was already shaking my head. “Too much has happened. Let’s move forward.”

She switched gears, tensed and snapped, “Bastard.”

“What I do?”

“I just told you the most shameful part of my life, and that’s all you can say? I just poured my heart out to you.”

“You asked, I told you.”

“Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you,” she sang as she marched to her car. Toyomi slapped the plates of food on top of her Saab, bumbled for her keys, opened the car, got in, slammed the door. Engine started. She drove off. The paper plates were still on the top of her ride. They slid off like Humpty-Dumpty. Crashed. Food spread all over the streets.

Pops strolled out a second later, his hands jingling the loose change in his pockets. He whistled, checked his lawn sprinklers, lit up a King Edward’s cigar, and meandered over next to me. As I stood there with my hands deep inside my pockets, looking in the direction both women had driven, he put his wide and heavy hand up on my shoulder.

I thought, here comes the lecture. He always had to lecture.

“I done told you about trying to be a Jody, ain’t I, son? Don’t brang you nothing but hurt and trouble.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you know I love you like you was my own.”

I asked him, “Do you?”

He sighed, blew cigar smoke away from me. “When you was coming up, every single night, who helped you with your homework?”

“You did.”

“Who taught you how to fix cars?”

“You did. Pops, you don’t have to do the whole list—”

“Who ran out in the middle of the night when you was down with the flu and got you something to ease your suffering? Who did more for you than you done for yourself?”

Humbly I answered him, “You did.”

“I didn’t do it because I like you, and I didn’t do it because I love you. I did it because somebody had to.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, I took you to Disneyland because I cared about you. Me and your momma wanted all’a y’all to do thangs that were never possible for us to do down in Miss’sippi. And I’m gonna tell you the truth, the truth as I know it. Duke, your own daddy, never would’a done none of that for you. He wasn’t that kinda man.”

We stood there for a moment.

He asked, “You thank I’m lying?”

It pained me to answer. “No, sir.”