The Coldest Winter Ever (27 page)

“Souljah here?” The Guess jeans and fresh-out-the-Nike-box kicks looked good, but meant very little once I peeped the gold Rolex with the diamond bezel face.

Now, honey just stepped over me like I was a roach. Or maybe he confused me with the maid. I watched his six-foot frame as it disappeared up the stairs. With my mouth wide open and my hands on my waist, you might have seen steam coming out of my ears had you been there.

I checked how I just got played out in an expensive, but two-day dirty outfit and slippers. They knew who was at the door and they didn’t even warn me. Hell, everybody know how much first impressions mean. I didn’t even take a minute to brush my hair.

It was right then that I realized how vexed I was that the bitches in the House of Success had raided my trunk. I was so happy that I had escaped with my loot and jewels that I wasn’t focused on the clothes. But now I stood there calculating the costs. Leaning against the second door, I outlined the shopping I would have to do in my head.

It was obvious that there’s money in this house, I thought to myself. I wasn’t sure how I would get a piece of Souljah’s hustle. I was
sure
that I would. I knew she had to be some kind of con artist. Where did she get the money for this house, the Benz, and all that? Bigger question: Why would GS go out with someone like her, a girl who rocks skips and just wasn’t … just wasn’t fly? The answer must be because he hasn’t weighed his options. Someone like Souljah had access. She must have used those charity concerts to get in good with the stars. Well now
I
have access. Staying here wouldn’t be as bad as I thought. But like Souljah said, I wouldn’t be here long.

I passed the happy couple on their way downstairs. She said “Peace.” I mumbled something back. Then I had to double right back and lock the door as they left.

“So are you ready to hear the house rules?” Lauren asked, laying on the bed smoking a cigarette.

“Yeah, give it to me,” I said unenthusiastically.

“First rule is no smoking.” She started to laugh. “Souljah’s allergic to cigarettes. Plus she hates them. So I do it when she leaves, with the window open as you can see. She won’t be back for a few hours. I’ll spray this stuff,” she said, squirting cherry-aroma household spray. “Now when she gets back she’ll still ask me if I was smoking a cigarette even though our bedroom door is closed, the window open, and I sprayed this shit. Second rule is you can never stay in this house when no one else is home. You’ll either have to go out and do your own
thing, come with me, or leave out with Souljah. Oh, and you can’t have a key. Those are Doc’s rules.”

“Who’s Doc?”

“She’s the doctor who owns this house. She runs her medical practice on the first floor. You probably didn’t notice it because her office has a separate lobby and a separate entrance. She has a lot of expensive stuff, equipment and all that. So she’s real strict about the key situation. I have one,” she said, shaking her small set of keys. “Next rule. You can’t bring nobody to this house. The only strangers who are allowed in are the patients who come in the side door and Souljah’s students on Thursday and Sunday nights. Now the men’s group meets on Thursday nights. It’s for men only. We can’t even stay back here in our room.”

“What about Souljah, where does she go?”

“She’s the teacher. She stays with the men. The women’s group is Sunday night. Souljah will want you to attend the womanhood meetings.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Lauren was calm. She just said, “Yeah, I know, right. Well she won’t force you into a meeting. But she expects anyone she’s dealing with to at least give it a try. They ain’t that bad. I go just for the laughs. As far as food goes, this is the deal. I don’t cook. Blimpie’s is right on the corner, pizza, McDonald’s, and there’s this good Jamaican spot on the avenue. Souljah cooks good, but she’s always on a diet. When there’s food here you can eat it. Souljah will share almost everything. Other than that, just expect her to try to get your life together whether you like it or want to or not. Don’t try to stop her. It’s in her blood.

“Now the benefits is the reason I bother at all. Souljah’s VIP, she gets invited to everything, concerts, parties, dinners—she knows everybody. The thing is, unless she has a special reason she really doesn’t go. So we get to use the invites and meet everybody who’s anybody.”

“Like GS?” I had to throw it in.

“Yeah, he’s a fine ass, ain’t he.”

“That was him at the door,” I said, hoping she would throw in some more information since she had already been so helpful.

“Yeah, I figured it was him,” Lauren said casually. “Them two is weird.” I started laughing. Somehow or another, I was excited. Even though I appeared to be cool on the outside, the energy was just shooting every which way in my body. My mind was like a tape recorder,
catching every word. I had always went to all the big shows, read the magazines, grown up on hip-hop. But I had never been on the inside. As I really thought about it, on the inside is where I needed to be. And if these people didn’t know how to take advantage of an opportunity, it would be their loss because I didn’t intend to miss a beat.

“What’s so weird about them?” I tried to seem half interested.

“Now figure, that dude can get any girl he wants. He comes here a few times a week, talks to Souljah for hours. Two, three o’clock in the morning, you get up to go to the bathroom, them two is laughing, talking, and whatnot. He picks her up and takes her out. On her birthday he was in here cooking for her.”

“You lying!” I blurted out.

“No, seriously. He’ll do anything for her.
But
…” She stopped talking.

“But what?” I pushed, revealing my desire to know.

“She ain’t fucked him. He’s not even her man or nothing.”

“You’re killing me,” I said.

“Killing you? It’s killing me!”

“Well, what’s the deal?” I asked.

Lauren said, “He’s not gay. I know girls he fucked before. But check how his man liked Souljah. He caught beef with his man for liking her. But she ain’t his girl, ain’t giving him no pussy, nothing.”

“Maybe she’s lying to you about it,” I told her.

“Nah, if there’s one thing I know, it’s my sister. She had a few bad relationships in the past. Now her legs is Krazy Glued shut. Funny thing is, she got more niggas coming and calling since she stopped fucking. Now you go figure.”

One thing she said made my mind wander. It was the statement about past bad relationships. I wondered if Midnight was one of them. I wanted to ask, but I knew it was too soon to seem so interested. I figured I wouldn’t have to be that nosy to put this puzzle together. The way her sister just volunteered information, it would only be a short time until I could see the whole picture. Me and Lauren just clicked. The way she was just cool like that I knew we would kick it together.

Back in a Benz. Things couldn’t have been better. Doc drove us to go shopping. She was the first black female doctor I had ever seen up close. Everything she had was high quality. She looked young,
acted young, and didn’t even get snobby about being a brain surgeon.

When we’d go into a store, she whipped out her gold card. When her wallet flipped open, I peeped she had platinum cards, Diners Club, the works. She was picking clothes and accessories for herself out of the top-line designer sections of the store. There were items only a professional shopper like myself would have the eye to select. When I seen how she’d just run everything on the card, I thought to myself,
It’s like she’s not even paying money for it.
I needed one of those plastic cards so I could walk out of the store with bundles of stuff in my hands. I grabbed every credit application in sight.

While me and Doc shopped, Souljah would lean on anything and read her book. Her sister Lauren was playing me so close it was annoying. I could tell she was a sponge just trying to soak up my flavor. She watched what clothes I selected. Even stuff I just picked up, looked at, and placed back on the rack. When I put something down, she would pick it up. Her eyes would be bulging as she looked at the price tag. I never liked shopping with a couple thousand dollars to spend while your partner only had a hundred and fifty. The person just keeps giving you the “buy me something” look. And y’all know I ain’t buying nobody shit. What was the icing on the cake was I bought a red leather Coach bag. It was a perfect match for the red Range Rover I seen last night. After following me around the whole afternoon without buying nothing, Lauren went and bought the
same exact
bag I purchased. Shit like that is unforgivable. But, I told myself, she’s not a shopper. She’s definitely no competition. So I checked what she did and let it go.

Before I knew it, my hands were heavy with packages, but the yellow envelope taped to the bottom of the pocketbook was light. I only had five hundred dollars left to my name. Doc had challenged me to floss. I couldn’t let her go on a shopping spree for herself with me sitting back looking like the pauper. Plus if you have a Benz, you ought to be able to fill it with packages from Bloomingdale’s, Saks Fifth Avenue, Nordstrom, and whatnot.

It all fit into my plan anyway. I would reverse last night’s scene of embarrassment with the messy clothes and slippers. GS would never catch me off guard again. The next time he ran into me, he wouldn’t even know I was the same girl who answered the door.

Dinner was crazy. Picture us all seated around the large table at
Doc’s on the third floor. Boxes of Chinese food everywhere. Every-one’s gettin’ their grub on. Then the questions begin. First it was Doc. “So Sasha, where are you from?” Now they may think I’m dumb, but I remembered answering these same questions with Souljah yesterday so I was prepared.

“I’m from the United States,” I responded. They all laughed.

“No,” Doc said, smiling, “what city, state, borough.”

“Oh, I’m from Long Island.”

“Whereabouts?”

“Way out, almost the Hamptons.”

“Oh, that’s a nice area. I bought a house for my mother out there in Dix Hills. Souljah tells me your mom has cancer. I hope you don’t mind me talking about it,” she said, smiling innocently.

“Actually, I’d rather not talk about it. I was having a good day and I just don’t like to think about it because it makes me sad.” Then Souljah jumped in it.

“Oh no, it’s just that Doc is excellent in medicine. There may be some way that she can help. A lot of times when people are sick, they keep going to the same doctor, getting the same diagnosis and remedies. Sometimes a second opinion could help.” I just nodded my head, not wanting to encourage them to keep asking questions.

“If it’s the money you’re worried about, Doc can—” Now Doc cut Souljah off.

“If she’s from the Hamptons I’m sure her family has a private physician and good care,” she said.

“But Sasha’s been living at the House of Success where Rashida stays so—” Then I cut Souljah off.

“So I don’t live in Long Island anymore because my mom’s medical bills got so expensive that the family went through a lot of changes. And, like I said, I really don’t want to talk about it. You all don’t have to worry about my mother. She has a doctor and a specialist.”

Me and Lauren decorated our room after dinner. She was inspired by the jokes I made about how plain and boring the room was compared to Doc’s place. Now, I let her lead on the designs ’cause I wasn’t planning to stay. What we ended up with was three walls plastered with LL Cool J posters, him in every kind of hat ever made. Lauren had some kind of thing for LL, to say the least. She talked about him like she knew him personally. She admitted that she had never been
introduced to him face to face, but was in the greenroom with him at one of her sister’s concerts.

“Why didn’t you go up to him?” I asked.

She said, “Are you kidding me, I couldn’t even move. I was in a state of shock. I knew he would be there. But there’s a difference between knowing it in your head and then actually seeing the person. You know what I mean?” she asked. I just shrugged my shoulders. “Come on!” she continued. “When you answered the door last night and seen GS, tell me you didn’t freak out for a minute and just lose your cool?”

“Nope,” I fronted.

“You’re a liar, Sasha.” She pushed me down and tickled me like I was five. We both started laughing as she kept rephrasing the questions. “Come on Sasha, you know you felt a little electricity in your pussy.” I kept denying it. “I don’t care if you don’t admit it. ’Cause I know you felt the same thing I felt.”

“Seriously, though,” I asked her, “do you want to get with him like that?”

“Word up,” Lauren said. “I’d do anything to jump that nigga’s bones.” We cracked up.

Lauren was crazy. We stayed up all night long talking. “Do you have a man?” I asked her.

“A
man! I got a
bunch
of guys. Why, you wanna meet somebody?” she asked.

“Maybe,” I told her.

“Well,” she said, “it depends on what you like. Let me take out my catalog.” She whipped out a red leather phone book with some of the pages falling out. “I’ll start with the beginning,” she said, opening her book to the first page. “What do you like most of all, like the most important thing?”

“Money,” I answered quickly. We laughed again.

Lauren wrapped a towel around her head like she was a swami or gypsy or something. She turned a glass upside down like it was her crystal ball. I hollered, “You’re nuts, you’re nuts.” She pushed a sheet of paper over toward me.

“Write down what you want in a man in the order of importance.”

So I did. Money, car, clothes, jewelry, apartment, masculinity, big dick, clean, white teeth, nice body. I slid the paper back to her.

“Sshh,” she said, holding her finger up to her lips, signaling for quiet. After a thirty-second pause, she said, “It seems as if we have a problem.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“We have fifty guys with big dicks and nice bodies.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” I joked.

“Yeah, but they’re all broke, on foot, living with their mommas.” We cracked up.

Midafternoon, we woke up to Souljah’s complaints. “Lauren, get up. You’re not taking care of business, as usual. Just because we are sisters doesn’t mean you should take advantage. The man at the church is waiting for the contract and the money. You were supposed to be there at eleven.”