I Wish I Had a Red Dress (8 page)

I WAS IN THE
process of giving myself permission to leave everything on my desk exactly where it was until tomorrow when the phone rang.

“Sewing Circus. This is Joyce.”

“Joyce? Nate Anderson.” He even rumbled on the phone. “How’s the anti-Super Bowl party going?”

He had been really curious when I was talking about it at Sister’s. I think he was a little surprised when I said no men were allowed. He didn’t pursue it but I got the feeling that was less because he understood the reason for some activities to be all female just to keep the focus steady than a real inability to imagine any man choosing not to watch the Super Bowl.

“We’ve got a full house,” I said. I could hear the television station
vaguely in the background. He was probably holed up at the Motel 6, sitting in a little bitty Motel 6 chair, watching the game.

“Great,” he said. “I won’t keep you. I just wanted to let you know I went by the house and it’s perfect. Where do I sign?”

I laughed, but I was definitely sympathetic. “You’re not a big fan of motel living, are you?”

“Not really. Especially today. It’s like watching the game in a dollhouse.”

I felt sorry for him. “Well, the owners won’t be back for a week, but I can vouch for you until then.”

“Vouch for me?”

“Sure,” I said. “It’s partially furnished, as you saw, and the heat’s still on. You can move in today if you want.”

“Today?”

He sounded so hopeful, I laughed. “Right now if you want.”

He wanted out of there so badly, he was afraid to believe me. “If you’re kidding, tell me now.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’d never kid about the Motel 6.”

He let his relief out in a long, relieved
whoosh.
“All right!”

Deena appeared in the doorway and, seeing me on the phone, whispered urgently. “She gettin’ ready to pick the video!”

Her courage had failed her at the moment when the vote would have to be taken. Tee was never less than a passionate advocate for whatever point of view she held and Deena hadn’t even figured out what question she was calling for yet. She definitely needed backup.

“You still want to vote?” I said.

She looked nervous but determined. “Yeah, but she gonna make it come out her way if it’s just me askin’!”

“Is this a bad time?” Nate’s voice in my ear rumbled apologetically.

“Hang on,” I said, giving Deena the answer she wanted so she’d give me a minute to myself. “Go tell her you’d like to take a vote and I’ll be right here for the discussion.”

Deena looked relieved. “Can I tell her
you
want a vote?”

I gave her a
don’t push it
look.

“Never mind. I’ll tell her.”

“Sorry,” I said into Nate’s patient silence.

“No problem,” he said. “I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed spending some time with you the other night.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I enjoyed it too.”

“Our conversation really helped me bring some things into focus about what I’m doing here,” he said.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, pleased to have it.

“I meant it as one.”

Deena was hovering in the hallway looking anxious.

“Listen, I’ve got to go,” I said. “Call me if you have any problems at the house.”

“Can I call you even if I don’t have any problems?” His voice was as rich as a hot fudge sundae with a smile on top.

“Sure,” I said. “That would be a nice change!”

“Good,” he said. “Then count on it.”

“ALL RIGHT, Y’ALL,” TEE WAS
saying to the group as I took a seat on the couch next to Patrice. “What’s it gonna be?”

“Whacha got?” Tiffany said. Her oldest son, Marquis, three, was asleep in the back with the other kids. She was rocking the baby, Diamante, against her shoulder.

“You know what she got.” Sherika, teasing, provided the opening Deena needed.

“You might not know
what
, but we all know
who
.”

Tee raised her eyebrows, feigning surprise.

Patrice groaned. “Oh, Lord! Not again!”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Patrice said quickly. “I just, you know, Denzel is cool and everything, but he kinda, you know, boring sometimes.”

“Boring?”

“What she tryin’ to say is Denzel fine, but he won’t let you see him really
get down,
” Tiffany said, shifting her now dozing boy from one shoulder to the other. “The only movie I can remember where he was even hittin’ it a little bit was when he was cheatin’ on Spike’s sister in
Mo’ Better Blues,
and even then, he wasn’t that into it.”

Sherika giggled. “That’s cause Pauletta ain’t havin’ it!”

Pauletta Washington always got big props from the group for holding on to her husband in the midst of his rise to Hollywood stardom.

“What about the beginning of
Devil in a Blue Dress
,” Tee said, defensive but determined. “When that girl with the big titties keep tellin’ him he’s hittin’ her spot?”

“That girl on TV now too.”

Regina snorted. “Doin’ what?”

“Playin’ the black roommate on a all-white show.”

I suddenly remembered a video I had watched a couple of months before this whole Denzel thing took hold. “What about
Mississippi Masala
?”

“I ain’t interested in nothin’ got
Mississippi
in the title,” Tiffany said. “Those country Negroes ain’t got nothin’ I need.”

“Oprah from Mississippi.”

“Oprah from wherever she wanna be from,” Sherika said, echoing their jointly held belief that money buys not only happiness but world citizenship.

“Denzel is the star,” I said, bringing them back to the subject at hand.

Tomika looked suspicious. “How come I never heard of it?”

I shrugged. I knew exactly why. “It was directed by a woman too.”

“A sister?”

“An Indian.” That was why.

Tiffany laughed. “What’s Denzel playin’? A cowboy?”

“Not that kind of Indian,” I said. “She’s from India.”

“What she doin’ directin’ a black movie?”

“There’s Indians in it too.”

“That must be where the
masala
comes in,” said Regina, rolling her eyes. “Whatever
that
is!”

“It’s an Indian stew,” I said. “Like gumbo.”

Regina made a face. “I don’t like gumbo. Too much weird stuff in it.”

“So what’s Denzel doin’?” Sherika said. “Cookin’?”

“He falls in love with an Indian woman whose parents disapprove,” I said.

“He has sex with her?” Tiffany demanded, suddenly indignant.

I nodded and Tee gave her braids an energetic shake.

“Well, that’s why I haven’t seen it. The
last
picture I want in my mind is Denzel rollin’ around with some chick in a sari.”

“You just mad ’cause he ain’t rollin’ around with you.” Tiffany was teasing, but Tee didn’t have a chance to affirm or deny because Nikki Solomon burst through the door and slammed it hard behind her.

“Who chasin’ you, girl?” Regina said, only half kidding.

“Nobody, I hope,” Nikki said, glancing out the window while she pulled off her coat.

“You wake up this chile, you gonna have me chasin’ you,” Tiffany said, gliding off quickly to a quieter corner.

Nikki was too busy pacing to apologize. I walked over to the back window and looked out, but I didn’t see anybody.

“Calm down,” I said. “Are you okay?”

“I’m just tired of it, that’s all!” Her voice was shaking with anger or fear, I couldn’t tell which one yet.

“What happened?”

“They mean anyway, but when they drinkin’, the shit is just ridiculous!”

We knew immediately she meant the Lattimore brothers.

“Where’s Sheila?”

Nikki had arrived alone.

“I went by the house to pick up the kids like she asked me to and that’s when Junior started trippin’ about me startin’ to work at the club on Monday. He said he didn’t want no niggas looking at his woman but him,
period
.”

Tee resisted a golden opportunity to say
I told you so
and Nik went on.

“I told him if he was payin’ his woman’s rent maybe he’d get a vote in the shit, but since he
ain’t,
he
don’t.
”

Tiffany, listening from a few feet away, shook her head. “You the one trippin’! What’d he say?”

“He didn’t say nothin’! I was the one talkin’, so then I told him he wasn’t my man no more, and if he brought his sorry ass up in my place of employment, I’d have them great big bouncers throw him out the back door with the rest of the trash!”

Patrice gasped. “You said that to
Junior?
”

“Junior can kiss my ass!”

Tomika joined me at the window. “Do you think he followed you?” She sounded as worried as I felt. Even among a group as volatile as the Lattimore brothers, Junior held a special place. He was the one
they
thought was crazy.

Nikki shook her head. “Not unless it’s halftime.” She was still pacing. “He just mad ’cause I finally quit his ass.”

Junior and Nik, who turned nineteen on Christmas day, had
been together five years. She’d been threatening to quit him for three.

“They always think ’cause they your first, they ‘spose to be your only,” Patrice said softly.

“Well, he better think again,” Nikki said, then looked at Tee and giggled.

“What?”

“He couldn’t believe I said that shit!”

Tomika grinned in spite of herself. She had been trying to get Nikki to break up with Junior forever. “I can’t believe it either!”

They all laughed at that, delighted by her defiance, but I was wondering if Junior was really going to let it slide and how we were going to deal with it if he didn’t.

I TALKED MYSELF OUT
of calling the police immediately by giving Junior a half hour in which to simmer and fume and then decide not to retaliate. I don’t remember exactly how I came up with thirty minutes as the danger zone, but the specificity of it somehow reassured me. I didn’t want to be the woman who cried wolf if this was more drama than danger.

I also decided reluctantly against calling Sheila since it might further irritate her brothers. I left the group going over the details of Nikki’s close encounter and went back to the office, where I could watch out the window without making everybody more nervous than they already were.

We have agitated boyfriends cruise up here every once in a while looking for somebody who has moved out or moved on.
Most of the time I can defuse the situation by looking stern and talking tough. None of the Lattimore brothers have ever been here except Maleek, who sometimes drops off his sister or picks up his nephews. It’s kind of ironic in a way since we have at least two, maybe three, of their children here every day. Participatory fatherhood is a concept the brothers have yet to embrace fully.

After the first fifteen minutes went by uneventfully, I started to relax a little, which was a mistake, because that’s when Junior Lattimore’s beat-up old Buick pulled into the yard, going way too fast, and rocked to a stop. Maleek was driving, Jarvis was in the backseat with Sheila’s boys and Junior was riding shotgun. I wondered how drunk he was. I didn’t have to wonder for long. When he opened the passenger door and got out, he could hardly stand up straight.

“Nikki!”
he bellowed. “Get your ass out here!”

My heart sank. So much for the thirty-minute window. “Tell Nik to stay out of sight,” I said, pulling on my coat. “I’ll handle it.”

When I stepped out on the back porch, Junior looked at me like I was the last person he expected to see. I’ve known him since he was a kid, and I was counting on that connection, however tenuous, to help me convince him to go home and cool off.

“Hey, Junior,” I said pleasantly. “You come over to drop off the kids?”

He mumbled something I couldn’t hear, but Maleek and Jarvis both laughed.

“I couldn’t hear you,” I said. “What did you say?”

He frowned drunkenly at me, anger twisting his handsome face. “I didn’t say nothin’ to you. I’m lookin’ for Nikki.”

“She doesn’t want to see you right now, Junior.”

His eyes narrowed. “She want these kids, though, right?”

“They know me,” I said. “I’ll take full responsibility.” I waved at Sheila’s boys sitting big-eyed and silent in the back- seat. “Hey, Duane. Hey, Daryl.”

“Knowin’ you ain’t the question,” Junior growled. “Sheila told me Nikki ‘spose to get ’em and she they mama, so Nikki who I need to see, otherwise I can take the little niggas back home right now.”

“You don’t have to do that—” I said, but Junior cut me off and took a staggering step in my direction.

“Didn’t I tell you we didn’t have nothin’ to talk about?”

Nikki was out the door and off the porch before I could stop her. Things were going from bad to worse at an amazingly fast clip.

“What the hell do you think you’re doin’?” Nikki stopped a foot away from Junior. Duane and Daryl scrambled to the back window and looked imploringly at her, hoping she could rescue them.

Junior’s lip curled in what probably passed for a seductive smile in the Lattimore family.

“Came to see you, baby,” he said, his voice a drunken slur.

“Let ’em out.”

Junior nodded at Jarvis, who opened the car door and pushed his nephews out into the snowy yard. They were hatless, coatless and shivering. They hesitated for a minute, unsure of their role in this adult drama and not wanting to make the wrong move and piss off their uncle.

“Go on inside,” Nikki snapped, and they bounded up the stairs to me. I hustled them quickly inside where Deena was waiting by the door.

“Call the police,” I said. “And tell them to get somebody over here
now!
”

“Go home, Junior.” Nikki was still standing too close to him for my comfort, but she sounded unafraid.

“Thanks for dropping off the boys,” I said, moving to stand beside her. “I’ll make sure they get home safely.”

He ignored me, all his attention on Nikki. “Who gonna make sure you get home safely, sweet thing?”

Nikki narrowed her eyes. “That’s none of your business anymore, is it?” Her voice was hard.

“Let’s go inside, Nik,” I said, but as she turned toward me, Junior grabbed her arm and snatched her back hard.

“What the fuck you say?”

“Hey!” My voice sounded high and thin. “Stop it!”

I tried to get between them. I was holding Nikki around the waist, and every time Junior pulled her, he dragged me along too. Through the car window, I could see Jarvis and Maleek laughing. Why hadn’t I called for help immediately?
If anything happens to this girl, I will never
—

“Freeze!” a voice shouted behind me.

I turned toward it, and there was Tomika standing alone on the porch step with an angry-looking snub-nosed revolver in her hand. She was holding it out in front and steadying her wrist with her other hand like a pro. Huddled at the back door, Sherika, Patrice and Tiffany stood watching. I didn’t even know Tee owned a gun.

“Back off, Junior,” she said. “Right now!”

“Or what?” He sneered. “You gonna shoot me?”

“I’m gonna do the best I can.”

“What if you miss?”

Tomika didn’t blink. “I won’t.”

“Come on, man,” Jarvis was whining out of the car’s back window. “These bitches crazy. Let’s go before they call the cops.”

That must have been the magic word because Junior suddenly released Nikki’s arm like holding on to her was the last thing on his mind. I pulled her back up on the porch.

Junior glared but didn’t make a move in our direction. “Fuck you, Nik. You ain’t got the only pussy in town.”

I kept my arm tightly around her shoulders, hoping she wouldn’t answer him. Tomika had spoken for us. No other response was required. Maleek pulled out almost before Junior had slammed the door behind him. Tee was still pointing her pistol at the spot where he had been standing. She slowly lowered it to her side.

“You okay?” I whispered.

She nodded and looked at Nik. “You okay?”

Nikki managed a small smile. “Since when you start carryin’ a gun?”

Patrice and Tiffany looked at Sherika and they all burst out laughing.
What was so funny?

“Tell her,” Tiffany said, “so she won’t think we all gone crazy!”

Tomika grinned at me. “It’s a toy.”

“A toy?”

“I took it off Duane last week. He said his uncle Jarvis gave it to him.”

Tee handed me the gun. Up close, you could easily see it wasn’t real, but it had looked real enough a minute ago to convince Junior to get back in his car and go home. I couldn’t believe this was a
toy.

Nikki picked it up and turned it over in her hand like she couldn’t believe it either. “Well,” she said finally, “then I guess it’s a good thing Jarvis didn’t get out the car. He might have wanted it back!”

We all laughed. At that point, I guess we were a little hysterical. By the time one of Idlewild’s finest pulled up a few minutes later, we had calmed down enough to make our statements. By the time he left, it was snowing again, the kids were waking up from their naps and the telling and retelling of Tomika’s brave improvisation had become our little tribe’s first war song.

Somebody produced a pocket camera and suggested we record the moment for posterity.

“Should we hold up the gun?” Tiffany said, a now wide-awake Diamante gurgling happily against her shoulder.

“No,” I said quickly. “Let’s hold up the baby.”

So that’s what we did.