Double Dippin' (18 page)

“Well, he’s mine,” Janelle said testily. She’d already received enough sidelong
glances from people at the pediatrician’s office and other places. People looked suspiciously from her to her baby as if she’d stolen someone’s child. Being insulted in her own home was an unexpected blow.

“So, how does it feel being a father, man?” Shane’s friend Brick asked. Brick was tall and thick. He was a mountain of a man with a nasty scar running down his forehead. He and Misty looked like Beauty and the Beast. Misty was too pretty to be with him. They looked ill-matched just like she and Tariq, Janelle thought to herself. She would have felt more secure if Misty had been introduced as Shane’s girl. Shane was good-looking and confident enough to keep Misty from wandering. She wasn’t sure if that ugly Brick character could control the little ho and keep her away from Tariq.

Despite her ill feelings toward Shane, there was no denying that he was handsome. Disturbingly handsome. And sexy as hell. And he knew it, which made Janelle livid. It also infuriated her that he treated her like something he’d scrape off the bottom of his shoe.

“Being a father feels good. Real good,” Tariq admitted, beaming at Shane. The look he gave his brother was one of near worship. Janelle felt disgusted.

“We should celebrate. I missed the wedding…”

“Oh we didn’t really have a wedding, we just went to city hall,” Tariq explained.

“That’s still important. It was your big day; I’m sorry I missed it. But now that I’m out, I won’t be missing any more important events. And that’s real rap,” Shane said with a head nod.

“Is it time to give him his present?” Misty asked excitedly.

Brick gave her a look. “Why you spoil the surprise?”

She covered her mouth and widened her eyes in an affected way that made her look childlike and adorable—as if her good looks pardoned her social blunders. “My bad. Forgive me. Now, give him his present,” the doll-like young woman said bossily.

Janelle could have slapped the look of pride off Tariq’s face. He hadn’t had so much attention bestowed upon him since the baby was born. The nurses at the hospital had doted on him; some even flirted right in Janelle’s face.

Shane nodded to Misty who looked like she was ready to jump up and down with joy. She flipped open her Prada bag and took out a card and gave it to Tariq.

Tariq respectfully presented the card to Janelle. It was a congratulatory card, addressed to Tariq only. The word
Fatherhood
was embossed in bold letters on the front of the card. Inside, there were five one-hundred-dollar bills. The card was signed by Shane, Brick, and Misty.

Janelle sucked her teeth as Tariq was pulled away from her and gripped in a group hug. Ignored and apparently undeserving of any congratulatory wishes, Janelle glared at Shane. She held him responsible for the blatant disrespect. She caught a fleeting glimpse of triumph on Shane’s face. Her hatred for Tariq’s brother was palpable. Someday, she vowed silently, Shane Batista was going to pay for treating her like a social outcast in her own home.

“So where you staying, man?” Tariq asked Shane.

“I’m in between places right now. Brick and Misty stay over in West with Misty’s mom. I crash on the couch and, you know…” His voice trailed off as he assumed a cocky stance and expression. “I have a couple of female friends that I crash with from time to time,” Shane said with much bravado.

Worry lines formed on Tariq’s forehead. “Man, if you need a place to stay, you can always stay here.” He peered anxiously over at Janelle. He nodded at her, as if to prompt her to pipe in with an endorsement.

Ignoring Tariq, Janelle kept her focus on her son and fiddled with the pacifier that had slipped from the sleeping child’s lips.

“Don’t worry about me, big poppa, I’m straight,” Shane said, affectionately ruffling his brother’s curly hair. “We want you to come out with us and celebrate, but since you’re the one with all the money, you have to buy the drinks.”

Shane and his partners in crime waited in the lobby while Tariq tried to placate Janelle.

“Tariq, how you gonna let your brother and his friends disrespect me like that? And now you want to leave me here all by myself? That’s not right, Tariq, and you know it.” She got up and started pacing with the baby in her arms.

“I just want to spend some time with my brother. I won’t be out long.” Tariq peeled off one of the bills. “Here, hold the rest of the money, so I don’t go buck wild.”

Janelle snatched the money from Tariq and rolled her eyes at him.

“Baby, stop acting like this. I have to get up early for work, so you know I won’t be out too late. Chill, all right?”

“Chill!” Janelle reared back, offended. “Now you starting to talk like your brother. Please don’t start bringing your brother’s ways into our home.”

The veins in Tariq’s neck stood out. “Stop talking about my brother like he’s some kind of monster.” Tariq’s words came out in a violent rush that made Janelle pause. She folded the four hundred dollars and turned her back to Tariq.

Reeking of alcohol, Tariq stumbled into the apartment at three o’clock in the morning. Tariq had never had a drink in his life. Too drunk to take off his clothes, he laid across the bed. He passed out the moment his head hit the pillow.

Janelle pulled off his shoes and then his pants. She scowled at his boxers. They were twisted in an odd way and there was something else about them that looked strange. She worked the boxers over his hips, down his legs, and snatched them off his feet.

Hardened stains were on the inside at the slit; yellowish-colored stains were also smeared on the inside of both legs.

“Tariq!” She shook him roughly. “Tariq! What the hell is this?” She held up the incriminating drawers, pinched between her fingers.

Tariq opened one eye and mumbled, “I must have cum on myself.”

“What? You were out there fucking some skank?”

“No,” he said sleepily. “We went out to a strip club to celebrate. I wasn’t doing nothing but getting lap dances. That’s all,” he said, and fell asleep.

Janelle sat on the side of the bed and held her head in her hands. That fuck-ing Shane had her husband out in a titty bar with nasty whores rubbing their funky asses on his dick.

This is it; I have to get back my control. I don’t know how I let the tables turn. I gave this ungrateful bastard a baby and now he thinks he can treat me like shit.

She didn’t know how she was going to do it, but somehow she’d find a way to get Tariq back under her thumb-back like he used to be. And then she’d figure out a way to hurt him-to hurt both him and his shady brother for treating her so unkind.

She trembled with excitement at the thought of revenge.

A
long with an exotic dancer named Star, Brick, Misty, Shane, and Tariq had all piled into Brick’s borrowed car. After dropping Tariq off, Brick weaved wildly through traffic, swerving like a drunk. He struggled to steer the car toward Star’s apartment on Pulaski Avenue.

“Do you mind if my friends crash at your place? My man’s too messed up to drive.” Shane asked the dancer, with a worried gaze fixed on Brick.

“Sure, if they don’t mind sleeping in the living room. I only have one bed-room.”

“That’s cool,” he responded and then scowled at his friend. “Yo, Brick. You want me to drive, man?” Shane shouted.

“Naw, I’m straight, man. I got this.” Brick’s words came out slurred.

“He ain’t got shit,” Misty interjected. “Pull over, Brick; let Shane drive.”

Jumping the curb when he pulled over, Brick hit the brakes. “Damn, that was fucked up,” he said, cussing as if the car was at fault.

Shane took the driver’s seat. Misty got in the back with Star while Brick slid drunkenly into the passenger seat.

“You dance real good.” Misty sidled next to Star. “I wish I could dance like that.”

“It ain’t even about dancing; it’s working your body like you getting some good dick. Anybody can do it.”

“Yeah, but I’d be so scared to take off my clothes like that.” Misty made her voice sound small, like the voice of a little girl.

“Girl, as pretty and young as you are…” Star paused and shook her head as
if Misty had no idea of the untapped goldmine she possessed. “Girl, you wouldn’t even have to work up a sweat. The only thing you’d have to do is come up on stage, swivel your little hips, and rub your crotch. If you showed those perverts just a little bit of tits, they’d break their necks to stuff your thong with cash.”

“For real!”

Star nodded with a smile.

“But is it worth it? You know…do you make enough to really get up there and take off your clothes?”

“If you get some lap dances in to supplement what you get on stage, you can make out pretty good. Like tonight. Here it is a Monday night. Most people don’t think of Monday as a money night. But I made out pretty good.”

Misty’s dark, round eyes grew large; her heavy silky lashes fluttered with interest. “So you’re saying this is a career I could think about getting into and I could make enough green to survive?”

“Survive! Girl, stop playin’. I made three hundred in lap dances and a buck twenty on stage. On a Monday night! That ought to tell you that you can make some nice change.”

“Do you think you could get me in there?” Misty asked, her voice filled with hope.

“Um. I can put in a good word, but you’re still gonna have to audition for the manager. I’ll give Shane my number; give me a call tomorrow and I’ll try to set something up.”

“Oh, that’s so nice. Thank you,” Misty gushed.

Star was tall and slender. She looked to be in her mid to late twenties. She wore a curly ponytail and had a nice-looking face. Her body wasn’t spectacular but she worked it so well, the men forgot that they’d been initially disappointed when she turned around and revealed an ass so flat it looked like someone had beaten it with a board.

“Right there,” Star said, pointing. “Pull up behind that white van.”

Misty and Star walked together like two best girlfriends while Shane held up Brick, who was so drunk he could hardly stand up.

Star waved to her leather sofa, indicating that Brick could lie down there.
“Oh, hell no,” Misty said. “I’m sleeping on the couch; let his drunk ass sleep on the floor.” Everyone laughed at Brick’s expense.

Shane tried to ease the big man down to the floor, but unable to hold the dead weight any longer, Shane dropped his friend. Brick’s body hit the floor with a great thump. Brick lay sprawled, but didn’t awaken, which caused more titters of laugher.

“I’m sorry I don’t have an extra blanket, but I have plenty of clean sheets,” Star said, her faced fixed in an apologetic expression.

“That’ll work. Girl, I’m so tired I’m gonna pass out in about five minutes,” Misty informed Star as she pulled off her sneakers and make herself comfortable on the leather sofa.

She threw a sneaker at Brick when he began to snore. They all erupted into more laughter when, after getting clunked in the head with Misty’s sneaker, Brick’s snoring grew even louder.

Shane and the willowy exotic dancer went into her bedroom and in a matter of minutes, Shane had Star hitting high notes, chanting, praying, and begging for more. Her cries of passion continued until the sun lit up the bedroom. Satisfied, Star fell asleep in Shane’s arms, wearing a contented smile that looked as if it were permanently in place.

Shane woke her up around nine in the morning, “Baby, I gotta go. Can I get your number? You know I want to see you again.” He was holding a cell phone.

“Why you gotta leave?” she asked, lifting her head slightly.

“I’ll be back tonight if I can borrow my man’s car.”

“Okay.” Star gave Shane her number, reciting each number slowly and deliberately. Shane pressed the numbers, each button making a different musical sound. “All right, baby. I got you on lock.”

Shane kissed her and hugged her tight. Contentedly, Star turned over and snuggled into her pillow. “Damn, I hate to leave you,” he said, patting her flat buttocks. “You better have that ass ready for me tonight.”

She smiled dreamily and went back to sleep.

In the car, Misty counted the money that Shane had lifted from Star’s purse.

“That bitch can lie,” Misty accused and sucked her teeth. “This is only three hundred and fifty dollars; she said she made four twenty.”

“It’s cool, though,” Brick said, grinning. “I gripped her jewelry box.” Brick displayed a blue wooden musical box.

“Now, that’s what I’m talkin’ about. You go, boy!” Misty squealed with glee. She sat in the backseat, but stretched her arm across the front seat to investigate the pieces inside the jewelry box.

“Yo, stop grabbing everything,” Shane said, giving Misty an evil look.

“Y’all dumb asses don’t know fake stuff from real, so hand me the muthafuckin’ jewelry box,” Misty replied, snatching the jewelry box from Brick.

“And your violent ass better not hit me with your stinkin’ sneaker no more,” Brick said, laughing. “Won’t even let a black man get his snore on.”

They all let out big guffaws. “Damn, you was convincin’ like a muthafucker when you be playin’ your drunk role,” Misty complimented him.