Liar's Game (19 page)

“Chinese have Chinatown. There’s a Little Hanoi. Little Havana. In a true community, the people of that community have rules and run that community. There are boundaries. They support each other. They have their own rules; they have discipline in their community.

“They take our money right back to Chinatown. Oh, I could go on and talk about how we don’t recycle black dollars, how most people will run up to Starbucks before they keep places like Fifth Street Dick’s in business.”

So much passion. And that sister could ramble. Everybody had to lean back and catch a breath after that.

Womack broke the silence. “See what happens when you get her started? You have to take the batteries out.”

We laughed.

I added, “You are definitely a schoolteacher.”

“No more politics, not tonight. Let’s keep it simple.” Rosa Lee took a breath. “Dana, tell me about New York. The subways. Where did you hang out? What’s it like to have that much snow on your doorstep?”

Rosa Lee was longing. She wanted to be somewhere else. Or maybe she read through my smile and saw my disturbed mood. She saw mine and I saw hers. Her cute little foot was on the windpipe of her own beast.

I smiled, blinked away all those troubled feelings, and said, “Okeydoke, Rosa Lee. I’ll tell you all about New York.”

With soft laughs and a sentimental sensation, I went down memory lane.

Rosa Lee beamed. “Ice skating at Rockefeller Center?”

“Yep,” I said. “Momma took me every year.” Womack chipped in, “We go snow skiing up in Big Bear.”

Rosa Lee said, “God, we haven’t been to the mountains in years.”

“Why not?” I asked. “It’s a couple of hours from here.”

“When you have kids, you stop doing a lot of things. So, you two should take your time before you do. This is a twenty-four-seven, three-hundred-sixty-five j-o-b. And no time off for good behavior.”

Vince and I shared an uneasy glance. Kids were something we hadn’t brought up. Maybe, considering his true status, I should say more kids. And now I wasn’t too sure I wanted to throw my hat in that arena.

I brightened up. “We should plan to go snow skiing.”

Rosa Lee said, “All of us used to go all of the time. We’d hang out with Winter Foxes, rent a cabin, stay all week.”

All of us.
They’d all been friends for years, so there was no telling how many women Vince had taken on weekend sojourns with them, how many fingernails had raked across through the sweat on his back while he released his energy inside them.

My pager vibrated again.

Rosa Lee laughed hard and that jarred me big-time because I thought she was laughing at me, thought she heard my pager humming, thought she knew about Malaika’s call. But her laughter was shot at her Jheri-Kurl-wearing hubby.

I asked, “What’s funny?”

She said, “Womack, Vince, you bad boys ever tell Dana about when you two were trying to be big shots and run scams?”

I lit up and gazed at the pay phone. “What did they do?”

Rosa Lee added, “Outside of putting rocks in TV boxes and trying to scam people, these two did all kinds of mess back in high school and college. Oh, let me tell you about this one. Womack and I had a cute little red Celica that we’d bought at the auto auction. Spent our last money getting the stupid thing. After about two months it turned out to be a lemon, and we were sinking money in it every week.”

Vince and Womack groaned.

She waved them off and went on, “So Vince drove it out to Downey, parked it behind a Goodyear, stole the seats and radio, poured gas all over the inside and engine, and introduced it to a match.”

“Oh, crap. I’m engaged to a con man. When did they do that?”

Rosa Lee was perky, said, “That was when he was with Malaika and he’d gotten laid off for a while. Malaika was pregnant then, right?”

Vince shifted like he was uncomfortable. So did I.

Womack’s eyes wandered over another girl—brown-skinned, long dark hair, oval face. Midriff top showing off her stomach.

Rosa Lee said, “See what I have to put up with, Dana?”

Womack snapped back, “What I do this time?”

Rosa Lee sighed.

“What I do?” he asked Rosa Lee again.

“That girl is young enough to be your daughter. But I guess that’s how men like them. After we get all fat and have your babies—”

“Who? That girl? Rosa Lee, you gotta be joking. That girl so ugly that she could get handicap parking at a freak show.”

She shook her head. “Get a clue from Vince and learn how to hold my hand every now and then. Not just when you want to crawl on top of me.”

Womack reached for her hand.

She pulled it away. “Too late now.”

Wow. Too late sounded too strong.

Rosa Lee got up. “I’m going to the ladies’ room.”

Womack sighed. I grabbed my purse and followed her.

Once we were inside the shotgun-style coffee house, standing in the mouth of the crowd enjoying the jazz, I touched Rosa Lee’s shoulder and spoke up over the loud music. “You all right?”

Rosa Lee gave me a trying smile. I’d had that kind of smile so many days that I knew exactly what it meant.

I told her, “I’ll tell Vince to talk to him.”

“No, I’m fine. I’ve been all right for ten years.”

There was a moment between us. Empathy and understanding.

Point-blank, I asked, “Would you do it over?”

Rosa Lee laughed. “You are unquestionably from New York.”

“Nope, just nosy like my momma used to be.”

“Out here, we’re not so forward. We sugarcoat everything.”

I smiled.

“Hope I didn’t spoil the evening for you.”

“Puh-lease. You’re a better woman than me. If that was my man doing that crap, I would’ve had my foot all up in his ass.”

Rosa Lee cracked up. “What’s your fee?”

“Buy me a cappuccino and I’ll break out some Tae Bo on his butt.”

“Cut that curl out of his hair while you’re at it.”

“I ain’t touching that greasy mess.”

Again, laughter.

Rosa Lee said, “I’ve known Vince for years. And I’m not saying this because I like him, but you’ve found yourself a good man. Enjoy each other before the babies come along.”

“I was hoping we could before anything or anybody got in the way.”

Rosa Lee missed my hint and kept on. “You two have romance, freedom to get up and go wherever, whenever. I envy that. I went from my mother’s house to getting pregnant to getting married and living with Womack. Never had my own place. Never had my own space. Never really dated.”

“Dating ain’t all that.”

She shrugged. “Well, from where I’m sitting, dating looks good. Most of the time I feel like the woman in
Bridges of Madison County
.”

When somebody opens up, sometimes they want you to open up just as much. I’ve been closed off for so long, so unable to trust in people that I’m not sure I know how to open up like that.

“Would I do it over?” Rosa Lee asked. “The truth?”

She answered her question by shaking her head.

Rosa Lee walked away, but stopped at a counter long enough to browse some handbills advertising poetry readings in NoHo—North Hollywood. She grabbed several leaflets. A decent-looking brother wearing awesome dreads and a schoolboy grin tried to be slick and ease into her space. Had a can-I-get-your-number smile. She stood there, blushed, and absorbed his flattery. Womack’s wife didn’t stay long, just long enough for me to think that if she were here alone, she would’ve been sitting at his table before the Billie Holiday record finished playing “Strange Fruit.”

She saw me, looked exposed, then said an abrupt adios and left the brother longing. He watched her as she bumped through the crowd, moved by the long line of jazz and caffeine junkies. She fluffed her wild and stylish hair as she sexy walked her way toward the bathroom.

Four children. And looking like that. If only I could be so lucky.

The pay phone by the front door was vacant. I headed that way, did like ET and phoned home, checked the messages. All the back-to-back calls had been from Gerri. Her voice was fast, choppy, panicked. She’d been calling because whatever had happened after she made it home this evening was “jacked up” and she had to talk to me before she killed somebody.

I called her house. When the answering machine came on, I put a finger over my other ear and raised my voice so she could hear me over the jazz. She didn’t pick up. I called three times in a row. No answer each time.

My eyes went outside, to that moon.

Back at the table, we all started saying our good-byes. They had parked on Leimert Boulevard, between the blues club and the Korean inconvenience store that had bulletproof glass spread the length of the counter. Just like New York, all the stores, banks, fast-food joints around here were bulletproof. The aroma from Phillip’s BBQ joint was so strong it had made my stomach turn cartwheels. If we were going to eat, it would have to be soon. L.A. closed down early, so a sister could starve to death after midnight. And that’s no joke. They should call this place the City That Loves to Sleep.

With my arms around Vince, I winked at Rosa Lee.

Rosa Lee was holding Womack’s hand. She winked back.

We hopped in their Explorer, and they drove us back up Degnan so we could hop in our car and go get our grub on.

I asked, “Anybody want some gum?”

Everybody did.

I whipped out my pack, took out two sticks. I handed the pack to Rosa Lee. I opened one stick, licked the stick top to bottom, then teased the cinnamon stick in and out of Vince’s mouth before I put it all the way in.

He asked, “Why do you lick my gum?”

“To make it sweeter.”

Everybody talking. Windows down. Air cool enough to chill me.

I looked up at the full moon.

“Wow. Amber walls, and check out this serious grillwork, classy art, vaulted ceilings. Know what? This reminds me of the French Quarter. Much nicer than the Shark Bar on Amsterdam.”

Vincent playfully bumped me. “Why do you always say exactly where something is when you talk about New York?”

“What do you mean?”

“Sylvia’s in Harlem. Or whatever in Manhattan, or this place in Brooklyn between this and that avenue, or that place in SoHo.”

“That’s what we do.”

We had valet-parked and stepped from the traffic on La Cienega Boulevard into the bustle and hum of the noisy, shoulder-to-shoulder crowd.

This was a hot spot.

Brothers looked good. Sisters were lounging near the piano, a couple dressed in tight and slinky Chiquita Gonzales dresses. Even the fat sisters were skinny. Made me feel like a whale. Showing off aerobic bodies, looking more dangerous than the svelte curves on Mulholland Drive.

My stomach grumbled hard. Hungry as hell. Salmon, seafood gumbo, sautéed crab cakes, barbecued ribs, vegetables, all of those flavors were mixing with the soft music in the air. The skinny hostess said that we’d have to hang out at least two hours to get a table for dinner.

I said up over the bustle, “I’m going to the ladies’ room.”

“Go talk to your bladder and I’ll wait by the piano.”

“Don’t serenade anybody while I’m gone.”

“Not even if she was in
Waiting to Exhale
?”

“Don’t start nothing.”

I squeezed through all the mingling and macking going on at the bar. Actors, football players, basketball players, singers, all in Cary Grant poses, holding hard-to-pronounce-the-name drinks in their hands.

A heavy hand touched my right shoulder, practically shot out and grabbed me, rudely pulled me. And you know I was about to snap my arm free and read the brother the riot act, tell him that booty gawking was free, but please don’t squeeze the Charmin. Then his ohso familiar voice stole its way inside my ear. “Dee Dee, I know that ain’t you up in here.”

My eyes widened. A gasp slipped out with my startled breath. I turned and made eye contact with the bald-headed brother and almost fainted. Nut brown complexion, gray eyes, broad shoulders.

Before I could move, he’d hopped off his bar stool, pulled me to the side, and smothered my body with his. Held my breast to his chest like he’d found his dream woman. The caresses felt good, compromised the hate and anger I thought I’d feel if I ever saw him again.

In a rattled tone all I could do was say his name, “Claudio?”

His thick-lipped smile was so close I could taste his wine.

Claudio said, “Damn, you’re looking good, Dee Dee.”

My mind told my legs to move, but my foot had landed in the snare of a memory that would not let me go.

Claudio adjusted his green suit jacket, his high-fashion, multicolored tie, and said, “Didn’t think I’d run into you.”

“Surprised to see you too, Claudio.”

“Chris Rock asked about you.”

“Tell him and his wife I said hello.”

“Saw him at the VH-1 Music Awards. Hard to get his ass now that he’s blown up. No time for the little people who gave him his first work.”

For a moment we were frozen, memories swimming in both of our eyes.

Yep, once upon a time I had left him hanging, waiting for my call.

His pretty eyes fell down on my ring hand, and that happy-to-see-me grin vanished. “Guess you wasn’t joking. You got engaged to a West Coast nig.”

I raised my ring, moved it side to side. “No joke.”

“You didn’t waste no time.”

“Well, my eggs weren’t getting any younger.”

I’d never seen a big man look so hurt.

The crowd wormed by and bumped me into Claudio, pretty much made us into a sandwich. My soft breasts rubbed all over his hard arm. I backed away.

“You never did tell me how Tia was doing.”

“C’mon. That was over before that night. I told you she was trying to get back with me, mad because I wouldn’t return her calls.”