Big Girls Drama (5 page)

As soon as we started driving in the direction of this young man's home, I knew his family had to have money. The congested street we lived on quickly turned into tree-lined roads with houses separated by acres of land in a beautiful subdivision. Why would this boy need to sell drugs if he was living large like this? It boggled my mind. Now if he was in the hood and needed money to provide for himself and his family, then I could understand that because I grew up in the hood myself. And the Lord knows I've done plenty of things I'm not proud of. But this didn't make any sense to me.

I was even more amazed when we pulled up to this palatial two-story brick home with a three-car garage located by a community lake. I felt like my Mazda wasn't even welcomed in a neighborhood like this. To say I was a little intimidated was an understatement.

“That's his car,” Meena mumbled, and I looked at a cherry-red BMW sports coupe with tinted windows and chromed-out rims. I admired the car then turned to Meena wondering who this kid was. Yes, I couldn't understand why a boy with a blessed life like this would want to play himself by selling drugs.

“Mama, please don't make me do this,” my daughter pleaded one last time.

“I'm not changing my mind, Meena.”

“But this is embarrassing.”

“Good. Maybe it will teach you to make better decisions so you won't have embarrassing moments like this again. Now get out of the car. We need to get this over with.”

Hesitantly, Meena exited my car along with me. She lagged behind me as I made my way to the massive double-door entrance. I started to knock but saw the button to ring the doorbell. I pushed it. I could hear the bell-like chimes, alerting them I was here.

I looked at Meena who stood with her arms crossed tightly across her chest. She was so worried and pivoted from one foot to the other like she was trying to walk out her nervous energy.

I could hear footsteps approaching and moments later, a young man greeted us.

He smiled warmly at me. Then he looked at Meena, and his smile widened even more.

“Yo, Meena, what are you doing here, girl?”

“Hi, Corbin.”

The child with the smart mouth and eye rolling was now looking shy and timid. I almost had to do a double take to make sure this was my daughter.

“So, you are the one who gave my daughter weed to hold for you?” I asked, getting straight to the point.

Corbin looked over his shoulder before stepping outside with us and pulling the door behind him. He eyed Meena nervously, like he was checking with her to see what was going on.

“There's no need to stare at her. I'm here to find out why you feel the need to involve a fifteen-year-old in your drug transactions.”

“Look, yo,” he smiled coyly.

“Yo?
Son, I'm
not
one of your friends. You better look like coming at me correct,” I advised.

“Ma'am. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come at you like that.”

“Good.”

“I needed a favor, and Meena was willing to help. That's it.”

He said this like they were exchanging video games or something. This shit was something that could land both of them in some serious trouble.

“Why couldn't you keep it here? It definitely looks like this house is big enough for you to find enough hiding spaces for it.”

“I didn't have time to swing by the house to drop off my merchandise. I had to go see an officer, so I asked Meena to do me a solid. That's it. I even gave her money to do me this favor.”

“How old are you?” I asked him.

“I'm nineteen.”

“Are you sleeping with my daughter?”

“Mom,” Meena called out in embarrassment.

“Well, are you?” I continued.

“No, ma'am. We're just friends,” he replied.

I looked at him skeptically, not believing a word coming out of his mouth. There was no way Meena would be stupid enough to do something so idiotic over a friend. He had to be sleeping with her, but I wasn't going to push it. Not right now anyway.

“Look, ma'am, you can give me my merchandise, and I promise I won't get Meena involved again.”

“If the
merchandise
you are referring to is the weed, it's gone.”

Both Corbin's and Meena's eyes bulged.

“Gone where?” she asked.

“I flushed it down the toilet.”

Corbin rested his hands atop his head in frustration, saying, “Please tell me you didn't.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Mom, I can't believe you did that. You could have just given it back to him.”

“For what? So he could play some other unsuspecting girl. When that merchandise crossed the threshold of my home, it became my property.”

“Well, I hope you're willing to pay for it,” Corbin said seriously.

I chuckled at his audacity saying, “Like hell I am. I'm not paying for shit.”

With his eyes narrowed in anger, Corbin began to pace.

“Why are selling drugs anyway? It's evident you have money.”

“I need some extra cash sometimes so I hook my friends up. Plus, I like to smoke myself. There's nothing wrong with that.”

I shook my head in astonishment. He had money, probably. I guarantee you he hadn't worked a day in his life because his mommy and daddy gave him whatever he wanted. Yet, he still disrespects them by stooping to the levels of slinging drugs. Talk about too much time on his hands.

The door to their home opened, and a petite woman with an olive skin tone and jet-black hair pulled up in a neat bun greeted us.

“Corbin, what is going on out here? Your dinner is getting cold,” she said. Her expression softened when she noticed us.

The woman was very pretty and seemed well put together. My first impression was that she doted on her son. This explained his arrogant demeanor, like somebody owed him something. His mom had to be responsible for that.

“Mom, this is my friend Meena, remember? Her mom brought her over here to talk about this project we're working on together,” he lied.

Meena stepped up to speak to the woman.

“Hello, Mrs. Bennett. It's good to see you again.”

Again?
I thought.
How many times has this woman seen my daughter?

Meena continued, “This is my mom, Sonya Gordon. Mom, this is Mrs. Bennett.”

“Please, call me Leann. It's a pleasure to finally meet you,” she said courteously. “Meena is such a wonderful young lady.”

“Thank you,” was all I could say as I watched my daughter do some of the best acting I'd ever seen.
My daughter, a wonderful young lady?
I thought. She was when she wanted to be, but here, lately, we were bumping heads like crazy. The young lady she was referring to was a disrespectful teen in my eyes. I guess my child knew how to act with other adults, so that was a plus.

“We're sorry to stop by around dinnertime. Forgive me for that. I just needed to talk to him about this project because you know we are trying to get a good grade on it,” Meena continued.

“Your dedication is refreshing. I hope it rubs off on my son,” she said, playfully hitting him.

“Ouch.”

“Corbin, you know I raised you better than this. You could have at least invited our guests in,” his mom reprimanded.

“It's okay. We have to get home. It's getting late, and I need to get back to working on our project,” Meena lied. “It was good seeing you again, Mrs. Bennett. Corbin, I'll see you at school.”

“No doubt,” he replied.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Gordon,” Mrs. Bennett said to me.

“Likewise.”

“Maybe next time, you can come in and sit for a bit.”

“Maybe next time. You have a good night.”

Mrs. Bennett smiled, tenderly grabbing her son by the hand and walking him into their home as Meena linked her arm with mine and led me to the car.

“I know you did that so I wouldn't put your boy on blast.”

“Mom, please. Just leave this alone. I've learned my lesson. There was no need to get him in trouble.”

I didn't know about that. As a parent, I should have brought this subject up to his mom, but I didn't. I guess I was too amazed at how the two of them finagled the conversation to fit their needs. Then again, maybe it was because I didn't want her being disappointed in a child that was obviously unappreciative of what his parents were doing for him. The news of him dealing drugs would have devastated her. She was so gracious, and I didn't want to bring that heartache to her. So the incident would remain between the three of us. I hoped I wasn't making a mistake by not saying anything. As much as Meena told me she learned her lesson, I wasn't sure exactly what lesson was she referring to. All I knew was the lesson that she learned from me today was that I wasn't a parent who would always let things slide. She may get smart and roll her eyes sometimes, but today, she learned I was a tad bit crazy and had no qualms about embarrassing her if the need came up. So for now, I'd won this battle, but little did I know the war that was coming soon.

This had to be the worst day of my life. I mean, seriously, I didn't think my day could get worse, but I was wrong. When the pain from my nail digging in my skin let me know I was indeed up and wasn't dreaming, I knew the scene unfolding before me was actually happening. There sat Jeffrey on the edge of our bed, leaning back on his elbows with head back as far as he could take it, enjoying the lips that surrounded his dick. My mint-green silk curtains were pulled closed like he was trying to hide his indiscretion, as my aroma therapy candles flickered in the background.

I don't know if I screamed, yelled, called his name, or just cried out in anguish because all I heard was the ringing of dead silence in my ears. I knew I said something because Jeffrey was struggling to pull his pants up as the lips surrounding his dick unlocked from around him. The man on his knees and in-between my husband's thighs didn't bother to budge. If anything, he looked upset that I interrupted what he was doing to Jeffrey.

He smiled at me confidently as he dabbed at the cracks of his mouth with his manicured fingers. He acted like he had just devoured a full-course meal.

His eyes spoke volumes as they gloated saying, “I got your man, bitch.”

“Baby,” Jeffrey called to me. “What are you doing here?”

“In our house, Jeffrey!”

“I thought you were at work?”

“I thought you were too,” I glared.

“Look, let me explain.”

Why did all cheating-ass men say that, like an explanation was going to do them some good when they were clearly caught in the act? Maybe they felt the details were warranted so their significant other wouldn't kill them, because that's what I felt like doing to Jeffrey right now. I wanted to commit first-degree murder.

“It's not what it looks like,” Jeffrey floundered to say.

“Really? So this . . . this . . . person wasn't sucking your dick?”

“My name is Kyle, and, yes, I was sucking his dick, bitch, and I did it real good too, right, baby?” the tall, lanky man said running his hand down Jeffrey's leg as he continued to kneel before him. Jeffrey jerked away, looking at him with a scowl.

Eyes narrowed in anger, I looked at Jeffrey waiting for him to say something. My husband understood my hardened expression and began quickly explaining.

“Baby, this is Kyle. My . . . my lover.”

“I don't give a damn who this is. You're introducing us like I'm supposed to reach out and shake his hand or something. All I want to know is what the hell is he doing here, in
our
house, and in
our
bedroom, no less.”

“Isn't it obvious, boo boo?” Kyle deduced.

“Shut up, Kyle,” Jeffrey said through gritted teeth.

“And it ain't my first time here, bitch.”

His man whore stood upright as he shifted his weight more to his right foot as he stuck his ass out. The man's ass was bigger than mine, and I knew then who was the penetrator and who was the penetratee.

“Kyle,” Jeffrey snapped, shooting daggerlike stares at him. Kyle retreated. He wasn't a bad-looking guy. He was shorter than Jeffrey with dark coppery skin, a clean-shaven face, and brows arched to perfection. This man's face was beat to flawlessness. For a moment, I was jealous because he did look good. As sad as it sounded, I could see what Jeffrey saw in him. But, it was still a man. Jeffrey was not gay, or at least I never thought he was.

“Baby, I never meant for you to find out like this. I thought you were coming home later.”

“Excuse me from coming to my home and interfering in you getting you dick polished off by
that
.”

“Bitch, don't get smacked.”

“Kyle.”

“But she—” his whore began to say, but Jeffrey cut him off.

“Kyle, please leave. I need to talk with my wife.”

“Oh, so it's like that,” he said, looking at me sideways.

Jeffrey glared at him but said nothing.

“Okay, then, I see how you going to treat me. But don't come begging me back so you can get some more of this good old ass,” he said, turning his ass to Jeffrey and smacking it.

I closed my eyes in disgust as his friend exited our room. Eyes locked on Jeffrey, it wasn't until I heard the front door close before I spoke again.

“Do you know where I was today?”

“I thought you were at work.”

“No. I got off early to go to the doctor.”

“For what?” he asked like he was concerned.

“I found out I have Chlamydia.”

Jeffrey stood, stunned by my words.

“I wondered where in the world I could have gotten this from, because I knew I wasn't cheating. I hoped my husband hadn't cheated on me again, but then I come home to
this
.”

“Kellie.”

“The STD is not the worst part. Because of your inconsiderate actions, I may not ever be able to have a child of my own.”

“What?”

“That's right, Jeffrey. This STD may have affected my chances of ever having kids.”

“Baby, I'm sorry.”

I chuckled as I said, “And for the life of me, I can't understand why I'm not whooping your freaking ass right now. I mean, really,” I said stepping closer to him. “Why am I not tearing this house up? Why am I not trying to kill you right now?”

“Kellie, you need to calm down.”

“Don't you think I've done an amazing job at that already? Haven't you wondered why I haven't jumped off the deep end, like I did before?” I asked, still walking toward him.

Jeffrey was now backing up slowly.

“Kellie, we are not going to do this today.”

“Why not? I mean, I did find out my husband is not only an adulterous bastard, but he like's fucking men in the ass too.”

“I'm not gay.”

“Oh really?” I said coming to a halt as I looked at him with a confused expression on his face.

“Him sucking me doesn't make me gay.”

Jeffrey seemed to be getting angry, and this actually amused me. My husband was telling himself anything to convince himself he wasn't gay, or at least bisexual.

“Right. That's what all African American down low brothers say.”

“I'm not a down low brother.”

“No, you just like to dip your dick down low in his ass.”

Jeffrey rushed toward, me but I didn't bother to flinch. He stood nose to nose with me, heaving like he wanted to hit me. But I didn't care. I actually wished he would. It would really give me a reason to kill his ass. Then it would be self-defense.