Two Tears in a Bucket (24 page)

“
I’m glad you find that amusing.”

“
What?” he asked. “That old mess still bothers you? You and your mother seem cool to me. I thought you were over it.”

“
Over it? Andre, she stole my child! What kind of crazy shit is that?” Simone’s face hardened as she unfastened the straps on Kayla’s car seat.

The clicking sound startled Kayla, waking her from her catnap. Simone could tell by the way Kayla clenched her tiny fists and squinted her face that she was getting ready to light up the room with her wail.

Andre strolled from the closet in his boxers and planted himself on the bed next to Simone. “Do you know how many little girls are molested or raped at the babysitter’s house every day? I’m not saying that would happened, but it was just too many kids over there for me. I know you and your mom have issues, but she’s still Kayla’s grandmother. Won’t nothing happen to her there.”

“
Andre, I’m not switching,” Simone shot back over Kayla’s cry. “I don’t have a problem with the babysitter.”

Simone lifted Kayla from her car seat. Instantly, her eyes caught sight of the huge wet stain against the lining of the seat.
What the hell?
Kayla’s sleeper was drenched, and the way the diaper sagged told Simone she’d been that way for hours. She knew Andre had noticed the stain, as well. There was no way he could’ve missed it, and although he didn’t shout out in victory, it was the winning point in his defense nonetheless.

“
I’ll drop her off and pick her up,” he said. “You won’t have to do a thing until you’re comfortable.”

● ● ●

Bored out of her mind, Simone stared out the palladium window while counting down the last thirty minutes of her workday.

“
Hi, Ms. Woodard.” The resident stood timidly before Simone’s desk in a floral-print dress and house slippers, peering over her dark-framed glasses.

Stuck in her daydream about nothing, Simone hadn’t heard the door chime announce her visitor.

“
I’m so sorry.” Simone forced a smile and stood to give her the proper greeting. “I’m sitting here in another world.”

“
How’s the baby?” she asked softly.

“
She’s fine, Mrs. Marshall. Thanks for asking. What can I do for you? Are you here to pay your rent?”

“
Oh, no,” Mrs. Marshall said. Gone was the timid disposition she’d bore walking into the office. Standing proud and tall, she passed Simone a white envelope. “This is my thirty-day notice. I bought a house.”

“
Congratulations, Mrs. Marshall!” Simone praised sincerely.

“
Thanks, Simone. My accountant said I had to if I didn’t want to keep paying Uncle Sam. Now I’m thinking about getting my real estate license. My agent made eleven thousand dollars off of me, and the heifer wasn’t even that good.”

Simone was surprised. “Eleven thousand off one house?”

“
That’s what I said. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen the check. I’m considering taking the class that starts in about three months. I already have the papers and everything. There’s a class starting in a week, but that’s too soon for me, with the move and all.”

Eleven thousand dollars
, Simone repeated to herself.
Good gracious. Four checks like that and I’d pass my salary.

Mrs. Marshall handed Simone a business card. “I can hear you thinking, girl.” She chuckled. “You really should consider it, Simone. I mean, you’re already getting people into apartments; why not houses?” Mrs. Marshall headed to the door and pointed up at the clock. “They don’t close until seven, so you still have plenty of time to register.”

“
Thanks, Mrs. Marshall,” she said, staring at the card. “I think I just might do that.”

● ● ●

The evening real estate classes kicked Simone’s butt. The final exam was a cinch, but now it was time to prep for the real deal—the state exam. However, before she could even consider picking up another book, she needed to put her feet up and relax, if only for a minute. Between Kayla, the classes three nights a week, and the long hours behind the desk, Simone was pooped, and Andre’s birthday offered the perfect excuse for a getaway.

The sun hid behind the crystal-blue waters of the Bahamas. Orange metallic sparks popped from the bonfire while the steel drum sound of the Caribbean echoed down the beach. Laughter filled the evening air as the free all-you-can-drink Bahama Mama punch transformed the vacationing souls into buck-wild party animals. Hand in hand, Andre and Simone moseyed to the straw hut bar, ready to get their drink on, too. As Simone climbed on top of the wicker stool, her colorful sarong fell open, giving the bartender a glimpse of her thighs.

“
Man,” the bartender said in his heavy Bahamian accent. “Your wife is beautiful.”

“
I’m not his wife,” Simone announced, playfully fanning the fingers on her left hand. “Ain’t no ring on none of these fingers.”

The bartender smiled and gently grabbed her hand. “Stay here on the island with me. I’ll make you my wife,” he said in fun, his shoulders jiggling up and down as he chuckled. Releasing her hand, he extended his hand to Andre for the brotherly handshake known all over the world. “You two ready to partake in the festivities?”

“
Oh, yeah,” Andre said. “How potent is the punch?”

With a raised brow, the bartender poured the reddish concoction into two plastic cups and sat them in front of Andre and Simone. “See for yourself.”

Simone eased the cup to her lips and took a sip, bracing herself for the kick. “It can’t be any liquor in this.” She frowned. “It taste just like fruit punch.”

The bartender smiled.

“
Naw, Simone,” Andre said. “That thing probably loaded with extra sweet liquor. That’s the kinda drink that’ll creep up on you.”

“
Whatever. Give us three more.”

“
Three! Hold up, Simone,” Andre protested.

“
Naw, look at them.” Simone glanced at the intoxicated crowd partying on the beach. “We need to catch up. So,” she said to the bartender, “we’ll take three a piece.”

“
Whoo, whoo, whoo,” the bartender cackled as he began filling the additional cups. “It’s gonna be however you want it tonight, my American friend.”

“
Yeah, if she don’t throw up on me first,” Andre said with his first cup in hand. “If you really wanna get drunk, we gotta drink all four cups back-to-back.”

“
A’ight,” Simone said with a shrug of her shoulders. “Let’s make it fun. Let’s race.”

Andre smiled, welcoming the challenge. Without warning, he yelled, “Go.”

The twosome slammed the punch until all eight cups sat empty on the bar.

“
Damn,” Andre said. “I didn’t think you could do it.”

“
Yeah,” Simone boasted. “Now what?”

“
Now,” he said as he reached for her hand and eased her from the barstool, “let’s go make love on the beach.”

Andre wrapped his arm around Simone’s waist and untied her sarong, allowing it to drift to the sand. “I told you, you don’t need this. You already got these islanders going crazy; let them see that phat ass.”

But Simone wasn’t confident with the fifteen pounds Kayla had left behind. “Ugh, Andre. I’m all fat,” she protested, reaching for the sarong.

“
Simone, you don’t need it.” He grabbed her hands and led her out into the nippy blue ocean. “Whew!” He trembled, splashing through the waters.

“
Hold up, Andre.” Simone shivered as the waves rocked against her hips. “I don’t wanna go out too far. I can’t swim, remember?”

“
I got you,” he reassured, pulling her closer to him. “We gotta go out a little farther. It’s dark, but I wanna make sure nobody can see us. Take your bottoms off,” he instructed, “but don’t let ’em go.”

“
Oh my God. Can you imagine?” Holding on to Andre for support, Simone slipped off her bikini bottoms and placed them around her arm. “Now what?” she asked, smiling.

“
Now this.” He freed himself from the slit in his swim trucks and guided her hand to the erection he was slowly forming. “Make me hard,” he whispered, sucking on her neck.

She wrapped her hands around his shaft and stroked him until he stood at attention.

“
Wrap your legs around me.”

Simone surveyed her surroundings. They were out too far for her personal comfort. “Uh-uh,” she mumbled. They’d been drinking, and although the alcohol hadn’t caught up with them yet, she wasn’t taking a chance on Andre dropping her. She turned around, splashing water until her ass rubbed up against his hardness. Looking over her shoulder, she said, “It’s this way or nothing.”

“
You know I like it like this, too.”

Andre fought against the friction of the water and worked his hardness inside Simone. “Ah, yeah,” he moaned. He slid his hands underneath her hot-pink bikini top, caressing her breasts as he throbbed deeper and deeper inside of her. Finally, his body shuddered in ecstasy.

Couples in the midst of their own passion cuddled along the shore where the sand and the ocean flirted. A handful of the couples paused from their fervor long enough to applaud Andre and Simone as they strolled ashore, from the deep blue sea.

“
Oh, that’s embarrassing,” Simone said as she shook the sand from her sarong.

Four punches later, Simone was tipsy and a cup away from being drunk. Andre, on the other hand, had one foot on drunk and the other on pissy. Laughing loudly, his words were nearly slurred beyond comprehension. Simone had no idea how many Bahama Mamas he’d poured into his system. She’d stopped counting at eight.

The steel drum band broke out into a Caribbean conga, sending the intoxicated crowd into a frenzy. After clowning his way onto the makeshift stage in the middle of the beach, the MC screamed, “I need all the people who came to party over here! C’mon, y’all,” he instructed as the rowdy bunch congaed their way to the dance floor, where a real party was forming. “I’m gonna teach ya’ the line dances we do here on the islands. We do more than the Electric Slide and the Macarena.”

The MC moved and twisted his body like a professional hip-hop dancer. He showed the crowd the basic steps to a few dances and then added his flavor to those daring enough to try.

“
Some of you white people need another drink.” He laughed. “But some of y’all got it goin’ on.” He leaped from the stage to do his thing on the floor with everybody else. Shaking his hips provocatively, he danced with a few of the women in the crowd and put a few on display by escorting them back to the stage.

“
Whew, look at this sexy lady,” he said as Simone danced with her back to Andre. She smiled and broke it down playfully with the MC. He grabbed her hand to lure her onstage, but Simone snatched her hand back, shaking her head no. Her partying side was ready, but the part of her uninfluenced by the alcohol reminded her of the extra weight jiggling around in her hot-pink bikini.

“
Last call for alcohol,” the MC roared over the mic.

The end of the party was near. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, Simone reached out and grabbed Andre by his arm.

“
Come on,” she said. “Let’s go get another one ’fore they shut it down.” He slapped her hand away. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she asked.

“
Don’t even try it, Simone,” he said, storming from the dance floor in a drunken fit. “Go over there wit’ your boyfriend!”

“
My boyfriend?” she questioned, walking quickly alongside him, trying to keep up. “Who the hell is my boyfriend?”

Andre stopped dead in the sand and shot Simone a look of disgust. She’d never seen him so upset. “Simone, you act like I wasn’t fuckin’ right there,” he yelled, creating a scene.

Simone chuckled, shaking her head as Andre marched up the beach to the bar.
He’s drunk,
she told herself over and over to keep from matching his tone.

“
Get the fuck away from me, you stupid bitch!”

Simone froze, shocked as hell. “What did you call me?”

“
You heard what I called you, you trifling-ass hoe. Go over there with the MC!”

Andre stormed off and left Simone standing in the sand with her mouth wide open.

● ● ●

Simone’s heart pounded as she waited for her results to scroll across the computer screen.

C’mon,
she thought. The suspense was killing her. She wanted to go back and change a few of her answers, but decided against second-guessing herself. So much was riding on her results. She wanted to quit her job and become a real estate agent full-time. The flexible schedule and the fact that she would be her own boss were both appealing. And pass or fail, Simone was hoping her results would be the tension breaker for her and Andre.

The remaining days in the Bahamas had been money flushed down the toilet. Simone had tried to strike up conversations, but Andre shattered her attempts with his one-word responses. Initially, she blamed the argument on all the alcohol he had consumed at the beach party, but when the silent treatment followed them home, she realized she was wrong. Not only was Andre feeding her one-word answers, but all of a sudden, he had a million drug cases to work on every single night. In the evening, he’d stroll through Simone’s apartment simply to drop off Kayla and head back out to work. Three, sometimes four o’clock in the morning, he’d come in, climb in bed, clinging to his side the way he did when he was pissed, and doze off. He still had his apartment across town, but Simone’s was more convenient. Besides, it was his idea for Kayla to go to Angela’s, which made getting her back and forth his responsibility.