This Can't be Life (12 page)

“Yeah, he’s back there.”

“All right, girl, I’ll talk to you later.”

Simone had Sanctuary set up so you couldn’t see past the lobby when you walked in. Clients had to walk around the large, concealing wall behind the front desk in order to enter the salon. I walked around to the right, which was closer to Stacey’s chair.

“Hey, sistah,” Stacey said, embracing me.

“Hey, baby. You ready for me?” I asked, taking my seat at his station.

“You know I’m always ready for you, honey. Let me go to the back and make some tea. Do you want anything? Some water?”

“Yeah, a bottle of water is good. Where is Simone?”

“She in her office on the phone with her car dealer, girl. I’ll tell her you here,” he replied, strutting to the pantry which made me chuckle.

Stacey and I were about the same height. If you asked me, it was five foot seven. If you asked him, it was five foot eight. His peanut butter complexion and beautiful droopy eyes made him eye candy for men and women. Stacey’s hair stretched to the middle of his back when straightened, which he rarely did. The majority of the time, his thick curly hair was pulled into a ponytail and wrapped up in a bun.

“Hey, sweetie.” Simone walked over to me and gave me a peck on the cheek.

“Hey. You feelin’ all right?” Her eyes looked sad. I know my girl. I can tell when something is wrong.

“I’ll tell you later. I feel fine, though. Just always some damned drama.”

“What’s going on now, Simone?”

“What happened?” Stacey asked, walking up from behind Simone.

“I’ll tell y’all later. I don’t want everybody in my business. We’ll talk, don’t worry.”

“All right, Monie. I don’t know how much more I can deal with!” I said.

“Shit, me, too.”

“Hell, me three!” Stacey chimed in, handing me a bottle of Pellegrino with a slice of lime pushed through the small opening.

“So, what we doin’ today, Pookie?” Stacey asked, taking the clip out of my hair and gently running his fingers across my scalp.

“I don’t know. It’s definitely time for a touch up. I think I want some soft layers. What do you think? I’m tired of my hair being the same length all over. It’s so boring,” I huffed.

“Oh, now you tired of it? Girl, we
been
tired of it! We
been
tryin’ to get you to do somethin’ different to your head for too long, but you didn’t want to listen to
us
,” Stacey said, sounding appalled as he handed me a hair magazine. “Look through that and I’ll start your retouch. Let me know if you see anything,” Stacey said, in his soft voice that held just the right amount of bass. He placed a Zanex strip around my neck, then proceeded to drape a smock over my lap, pulled it up over my chest, and snapped it behind my neck. In his dark brown Fendi sandals, tan cargo pants, and chocolate colored v-neck tee, he looked stylish but comfortable and ready to tackle my head. While he applied base cream around my hairline and on my scalp, I looked through the hair magazine.

From my seat at Stacey’s station, I had a clear view of Simone who was applying spray oil to a woman’s tracks to remove the bond weave from her head.

“Damn, that didn’t even look like a weave,” I whispered to Stacey.

“That’s ‘cause she be in here every damned week gettin’ it done. Her husband is paid and she don’t do shit but go shoppin’ and come get her hair done. Simone be chargin’ her ass up, too. Let me tell you, girl. One time, her husband dropped her off to get her hair done and when he came back to pick her up, I was walkin’ down the street comin’ back from eatin’ at California Chicken. That man was lookin’ me up and down. I’m talkin’ ‘bout starin’ and lickin’ his lips and droolin’ and shit like that. You won’t believe he actually stopped parkin’ that big ass Bentley to follow my every move. You know I was so disgusted. So, when I walked in the salon, next thing I know, here he come walkin’ up in here. I didn’t know that was her damned husband at that time, so I’m thinkin’,
this old rich bitch is followin’ me!
I was about to go off, ‘cause you know I don’t play that follow me shit; hell, I wasn’t givin’ him no play
outside,
so ain’t no need to follow me
inside
. You know I don’t like me no old ass shribbled up dick, and I don’t need no suga daddy. I got enough suga in me for everybody in this joint.” He was barely in the middle of his story and had me crying laughing, as usual. “Talise, before I could say anything, he told Monique to let his wife know that he was here, all the while this queen is still lookin’ me up and down. I almost fell on my ass.”

“No, he didn’t!” I said, as tears of laughter spilled down my face.

“You know I don’t lie, Talise. That man’s as gay as Sisqo’s ass. Shit, she probably know he is, too, and don’t give a damn ‘cause he paid.” I could not stop laughing and, of course, he kept on.

“What y’all laughin’ at?” Gina, one of the other stylists that had a booth in the salon, asked from her station where she was doing a straw set on a girl that looked about 18 and 50 pounds underweight.

“My wannabe suga daddy,” Stacey replied, winking and tilting his head in the direction of Simone’s client.

“Oh,” she replied, laughing satisfied that she already knew what we were gossiping about.

“Anyway, he’s a big ass queen and you can easily tell, too. Hell, it probably ain’t no secret. Oh, my goodness, let me tell you the capper! The next day, why’d somebody send me three dozen red, long stemmed roses with a card sayin’ ‘you’re beautiful’? Girl, wasn’t a name or nothin’ on it, but I know it’s him. Shit, last Tuesday the motha fucka sent me a diamond Piaget watch. Humph, I wasn’t gettin’ shit ‘til after the day I saw his ass literally droolin’ over me a couple of weeks ago. It has to be him.”

“Shut the hell up, Stacey!
Did you keep the watch? Wait, why am I just hearing about this punk?” I asked excitedly, elbowing him in the gut. I was pissed that I had been left out of the loop. He hadn’t missed a beat, applying the relaxer to my hair.

“I ain’t no fool. Hell yeah, I kept it! I ain’t givin’ shit back! That damned delivery boy had a security guard with him. Simone didn’t tell you?” he asked, dramatically. “You know I be havin’ a lot of shit on my mind, girl.” He continued, not waiting for an answer to his rhetorical question. “Anyway, I took that shit straight to an appraiser. You know that motha fucka appraised for $30,000? I put that shit in my safe in case some hard times come and I need to sell that bitch. What I look like walkin’ around with a $30,000 diamond watch on my wrist? Hell, somebody would rob my gay ass with the quickness. I ain’t no fool…you all right? It ain’t burnin’, is it?” he asked, after he finished applying the relaxer to my new growth. He then began to lightly part and run his comb through my hair, working the relaxer through the kinks closest to my scalp.

“No, I’m cool. So, you haven’t seen him since that day?”

“You know, I thought I saw his ass on
Santa Monica Blvd
that same Tuesday that the watch came. Me and Gail—you know butch Gail?” I responded by shaking my head yes. “Well, we was on our way to this new bar and I had just parked in the parking lot next to the old Peanuts night club—damn, I miss that place. I had some real good times there. Remember, we used to be up in there all the time?” Stacey asked, and continued before I had a chance to answer. He was on a roll, telling his story and just took a small detour around it, but I knew he’d start right back where he left off as he always did. Stacey never forgot what he was talking about when he went off on his tangents. “Anyway, I could’ve sworn I saw his ass drive by, but maybe I was just being paranoid. I know he’s gonna surface one day ‘cause you don’t just give somebody a $30,000 gift and not expect anything in return. I’m not naïve, nor do I have stupid written across my forehead…come on, Tali. Let me rinse this shit out before all your hair falls out,” he joked.

I sat down at the shampoo bowl as he tucked a white, terrycloth towel in my smock.

“Lay back, sweetie,” he crooned, as I rested my head in the curvature of the shampoo bowl and let myself relax. Neither of us spoke a word as he shampooed my hair three times, scratching and massaging my temples on the third wash. It felt so good I didn’t want him to stop.

“If I’m scratchin’ too hard, let me know. You know I don’t know my strength sometimes,” he chuckled.

“No, that feels so good. It’s perfect,” I moaned. Stacey rinsed out the shampoo and applied deep conditioner to my newly relaxed hair. Then he snapped a plastic cap around my head and sat me under the dryer.

“I’ll be back in five minutes. You gettin’ a pedicure?” he asked, looking down at my toes.

“Not today. I just gave myself one a couple of days ago. Will you hand me that hair book I was lookin’ at?”

“All right, but you might want to rethink that pedi, girl. Looks like a three-year old painted your toes,” he joked, as I looked for something to throw at him before he walked away.

I opened the magazine to the page I’d folded and started to look for a style. Simone sat her client at the dryer behind me before coming to sit down next to me.

“I have so much to tell y’all, girl. Al came by this morning,” she said, shaking her head back and forth.

“What did he say? Is he all right?”

“I don’t know, Tali. It seems like some major shit is goin’ on. He said he’s leavin’ the States for a while. He left me a package and…damn, I’ll tell you later,” she said, rising to respond to the page she received from the front desk.

I was heading east on
Melrose
to Larchmont with my hair blowing in the wind. I was more than happy with Stacey’s cut. It was layered, but still hung effortlessly past my shoulders and down my back in big loose barrel curls. I was heading to do some shopping at a couple of boutiques, hoping to find something new and cute to wear on my date with Malachi when my cell phone rang. Happy that it was my mother, I immediately pressed the talk button.

“Hi, Mommy,” I said, enthusiastically.

“Hey, baby. Where are you?” My mom asked, sounding like something was on her mind. She wasn’t her usual cheery self.

“On
Melrose
. I just left the salon. What’re you doing? Is something wrong?”

“I’m not doing much of anything right now. Just got back home from getting my nails done,” she said, answering the part she wanted to.

“Where’s Daddy?” I was suspicious. Her avoidance of my question hadn’t gone un-noticed.

“I don’t know, Tali,” my mother said, in an exasperated tone.

“Mommy, what do you mean you don’t know?” I asked, trying not to panic. What she was saying was beyond my comprehension. My mother always knew where my father was and I could bet money that he knew where she was at all times, too.

“Why don’t you come out here? We can have lunch and go to
South
Coast
Plaza
.” That meant she wanted to talk and that I probably wasn’t going to like what she had to say.

“Okay, I’m on my way,” I said, as I made a right on La Brea.

“See you when you get here…and be careful.”

“Okay, Mommy,” I said, as I hung up the phone and sped south on La Brea to get to my mother. Something told me that she was going to tell me something that I wasn’t prepared to hear, something I knew I’d probably never be prepared to hear.

Simone

I plopped into the seat at my station and took a deep breath. It felt good to be back after being gone for what seemed like months. Everyone had gone for the evening and Stacey and I were the only ones left in the salon.

“How ya feelin’, Pook?” Stacey asked, using his term of endearment that Talise and I heard on the daily. It was either Pookie or Pook, and it was reserved for Talise and me only, so we felt special.