The Coldest Winter Ever (9 page)

“He won’t have to run fast to catch me,” she teased. “Winter, Santiaga told me that when I was in the hospital he had Midnight watching you and the girls. I didn’t tell him I thought it was a stupid idea. We were already dealing with enough. But I wanted to check with you to see what happened. I know how you feel about Midnight.”

I avoided her eyes. “Nothing happened, Momma, not a damn
thing. He was everything Santiaga wanted him to be. He walked a straight line. I guess I’m not as good as you, Moms. I can’t get what I want from that man, he doesn’t like me.”

“He likes you,” she snapped back. “He’d be crazy not to like you. You have everything any man could want.” Momma had tears in her eyes again.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. Santiaga said he doesn’t want me with a man like Midnight, something about it being dangerous and unpredictable. I gotta tell you I was shocked to hear that, all of a sudden he started talking about I should marry some doctor, lawyer-type guy, not nobody like him. I guess it’s because of what happened to you, Mommy. What do you think? If you had it to do again, Mommy, what would you do? Would you have married some engineer or doctor?”

Mommy cried, “Never, never. I love Santiaga more than I love my own life. The hell with other men. Santiaga is the
only man.
He takes care of me. He does everything a man supposed to do. He has given me everything. If I had to catch a bullet for him, so what. I’d rather they shot me than him. There’d be no sense in living without him.” Her words fell on me like huge rocks. I was not used to this kind of talk. I was impressed by Momma’s loyalty to Santiaga and I hoped one day me and Midnight would share the same kind of love.

“So you still think Midnight’s a good catch for me?”

Momma sipped her Coke through the straw and said, “He’s gorgeous, he is strong. He’s a
young Santiaga.
It don’t get no better than that. Let me work on Santiaga. By the time you’re eighteen I could see him giving his OK. Hell, it’s progress that he talked to you about men, period. That means he sees you’re becoming a woman. He can’t hold on to you forever.”

I exhaled, rolled my eyes. “Eighteen! By that time I’ll be so horny I’ll die.” We both laughed.

“You’re young. Have fun. It’s not like you gotta sit around waiting for Midnight. He’ll come around.”

“How’s he gonna come around when he’s in Brooklyn and I’m all the way out here?”

“I’ll figure it out. We’ll get him up to the house or something. We’ll work on it. But you stay out of Brooklyn.”

“Until when?”

“Until Santiaga says so.”

The next day I strategically dropped bits of information about a party going on at Hofstra University, which is about an hour from our house. If I was going to meet college-educated men, like Santiaga suggested, I had to start going to some of these events.

By the end of the week I had buttered Momma up with compliments about her face. Now she was comfortable with lending me her car on my birthday and allowing me to go to the party at the university. However, I still had to get permission from Daddy to go out at night, even if it was my birthday. Convincing Santiaga was always a hard bridge to cross. He just had a natural suspicion about everything. One slight thing triggering his intuition would cause the whole thing to get shut down. I waited in the kitchen Monday night for him to come home.

“Santiaga, how you feeling?” I asked sweetly.

“I’m okay, baby girl. What you need?”

“Who said I needed something?”

“You’re looking and sounding so innocent you gotta be guilty or something.” He was talking in a joking way.

“I want to show you something, Daddy. Stay right there.” I ran back to my bedroom and returned with my birthday outfit on a hanger. It was a black satin Chinese dress. I held my Joan and David shoes in the other hand. “In case you forgot, Friday is my birthday.”

“Have I ever forgotten you on your birthday?” he asked, smiling.

“Listen, Poppa. So what I’m saying is Hofstra University is giving a sorority party on my birthday. I want to go. Mommy said I could drive her car and I plan to make friends like you said. The school is in Long Island and who knows I might even meet some bigheaded lawyer guy.” I killed him with my smile. “So what do you say, Santiaga?”

“Who you going with?”

“I’m going with Vanessa,” I said, to my own surprise. I had instantly conjured her up. “She doesn’t have a car. So I’ll pick her up. I met her at the mall, she lives about a half hour from here in Deer Park. She’s gonna be a sophomore at Hofstra next year. She’s studying to be a psychiatrist and …”

“OK, alright, don’t fast-talk me. If your mother said you can use her car then fine. Be careful. And Winter, you are not to go to Brooklyn. Don’t bullshit me. Don’t give me no excuses. None of that. Stay out of Brooklyn. Be home by 3 A.M. Winter, if you meet some bigheaded lawyer guy, have him come here by the house before …”

“Before what?” I asked innocently.

“Before I have to break his neck for trying something stupid.”

Thursday night I tied up the loose ends with Natalie. I played it cool but I was so excited it was hard to sleep. I turned on my radio, dimmed the light, and let Jodeci help my eyelids close.

When I woke up Friday morning, my sisters were all jumping up and down on my bed, smiling in my face, acting like they were having a sugar rush or something.

“What you doing in my room?” I asked.

“Happy Birthday!” the twins yelled.

Porsche rolled her eyes. “We thought you’d never get up.”

“What’s the hurry?”

“Daddy went out,” the twins said.

“So?” I yelled at them.

“So he left a birthday present for you down in the living room and we are waiting for you to open it.”

Sitting up, I laughed. “Why are y’all waiting for me to open
my present?”

“’Cause everybody knows you always get the flyest shit,” Porsche said. “Meanwhile, I get a Mickey Mouse watch or Barbie dolls or something disgusting like that.” My eight-year-old sister was going on twenty-two, always mad that she isn’t me and always jocking what I have.

We invaded the living room and they held their breath while I opened another long slim box. It contained the matching diamond necklace to the diamond tennis bracelet I got one year ago. My sister sucked her teeth at my sparkling jewels. I was amazed at how clear each individual diamond was.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about,” Porsche said bitterly.

Later that afternoon I discreetly placed my Gucci overnight bag in the trunk of the Benz. By early evening I was all dressed up in my birthday outfit. My mother looked at my body filling out the black satin dress. Instead of complimenting me she cried. I thought to myself,
Damn, all she does lately is cry.
But tonight was my night. I pulled out the driveway cautiously, trying to keep my mother’s confidence in my driving skills secure. I was sure she was watching through the window. When I was out of sight, I ripped down the road, headed for the highway. Santiaga said no Brooklyn and I will respect that. Natalie, Slick Kid, and Bullet were gonna meet me at the 42nd Street
bus terminal in Manhattan. They had no idea I would be pushing a Benz. The best part of my birthday was gonna be flashing the ride. I might even tell them Santiaga bought the Benz for
me
for my birthday.

On the way down I pulled into one of those all-service Amoco stations. I popped the trunk, grabbed my bag, jetted into the bathroom, and took off the ridiculous satin dress. My real outfit was red leather shorts that wore like a miniskirt, a red leather vest that accentuated my titties and fit tight around my small waistline. There was no use for a blouse. I threw my stockings in the wastebasket. My legs were shapely, big, and beautiful. There was no sense in hiding them. I had no scars or bruises. So what if it was cold. I wasn’t walking. I was toasty in the red Benz.

I threw on my diamond necklace and my diamond tennis bracelet. My soft red leather jacket made it all perfect. With a piece of tissue, I wiped the foggy, gas station mirror. I could only clean a small area. The mirror was permanently dirty. I drew on my lipstick, checked my hair, and slipped my feet into my red leather Gucci shoes. I was good to go. Tonight was not the night for the bigheaded lawyer boys or engineers. Tonight was the night for raw Brooklyn-style fun and live niggas. In the trunk, I carefully stretched the black satin dress on top of the case, so it wouldn’t wrinkle.

In the car, I pumped up the radio to stay alert during the long drive. I kept the car windows closed. I would creep up to the corner of 42nd and 8th, slowly lowering my window, then I would shout, “Surprise motherfuckers! Get on in!!” The scene played over and over in my head. The thought of the jealousy Natalie would feel thrilled me. I knew she would get over it quickly, though. That was my girl. She would be happy to ride shotgun in my whip.

On the radio, suddenly Sister Souljah started talking shit, her coarse voice overpowering the music. “The number one group of people dying from AIDS is young black women.” I popped in a tape to shut her down before she started gettin’ on my damn nerves.

I slowed the car to a creeping speed. Natalie, Slick Kid, and Bullet were chilling on the corner. Bullet was looking good. I could see his gold teeth shining. That shit got me hot. A mouth full of gold is sexy like a motherfucker. It just adds to the ruggedness, accentuating the attitude. Natalie was right, Bullet had filled out a little something. He had on black baggy jeans and some crisp Jordans. Slick was rocking a Pelle Pelle leather jacket, backpack, and jeans. Natalie had on an outfit
I saw in Banana Republic the other day. Slick Kid turned around and caught sight of my Benz. He didn’t know it was me but the car was so hot I had his full attention. His eyes popped out and he started checking the vehicle, sweating my rims, stepping up close. Natalie and Bullet followed. When they got up close to the glass, I lowered the window and said real sexy-like, “Y’all waiting for me?”

Natalie screamed, “No you didn’t! Oh bitch no you didn’t. Uh-huh uh-huh, I know this ain’t your car. Don’t even try it. What!” Bullet and Slick Kid immediately grabbed a guy on the street who shoots Polaroid pictures and flipped him a twenty-spot. They started posing on the hood, leaning against the car. I jumped out and we all posed together.

Bullet licked his lips, put his arm around my waist as he said, “Damn you look good.” He opened his arms, and stepped back. “Let me look at you.” I swung my ass around slowly. “Big pretty legs,” he said, talking sexually like we were doing it already. He touched my legs with his finger, smiled and said, “No stockings. Nice.” I smiled.

“I’m not walking. It’s warm in the car. Get in!” We all got in. I checked Natalie’s face in the rearview. There it was, that jealous look. Seconds later, just like I said, it was gone. She was whispering to Slick Kid, kissing and messing around.

“Hold on,” Bullet said. “Where we going to the club on … Nah fuck that, let’s go to a quiet spot. I don’t want to have to bust nobody’s ass tonight for tryna get mine’s. I rather just chill with Winter. Let’s shoot to the Marriott on 44th and Broadway.” Right before we got there Slick Kid jumped out the car and picked up some Alizé and Absolut from the liquor store.

Slick went into the hotel with Natalie to check in. Me and Bullet sat in the car waiting.

“I ain’t seen you in about a year or so,” he said, looking into my eyes.

“Yeah, that’s about right.” I was playing shy.

“Where the hell you been?”

“Handling my business just like you, nigga. You never said nothing to me when I lived around the way.”

“A nigga likes his life,” he said, referring to Santiaga.

“Then why are you here?” I asked sharply.

“ ’Cause times changed. A nigga grew up. Gotta a little weight on my own. Don’t try to play with me, Winter. You wasn’t checking on me either.”

“Whatever. There’s no sense in wasting time,” I said. “ ’Cause time I don’t have a lot of. You look good to me. I hope I look good to you. I ain’t had it in a long time and I’m ready to bring it together.” I was looking him dead in his eye, letting him know I was serious. He leaned over and stuck his tongue in my mouth. He had a strong kiss. For a moment my head was gone. It seemed like I blacked out. I was kissing him with all the passion locked inside of me. It didn’t really matter who he was. He was a warm body, a masculine body. He had flavor. He would get to feel all of me tonight because I needed it.

Natalie was knocking on the window and trying to see in at the same time. “Room 609 y’all. Come on up when you’re ready. Glad to see we’re getting along.” She snickered and handed me the key. “We’re in 610.” Natalie headed back into the hotel. We pulled the car to the valet station and headed on up.

Bullet poured me a drink of Alizé mixed with Absolut. I sipped on it and felt relaxed. “Take off your shirt,” I ordered. “Let me look at you.”

He grinned. “Oh that’s how you do it, huh? You like to be the boss.” He pulled his shirt off. On his shoulder was a tattoo of a gun dispensing a bullet. The heat in me went up a notch. He walked over to turn the lights off.

“Oh no,” I said, “I want to see everything. Turn ’em all on. We ain’t got a damn thing to hide.” I took off my jacket. I started to unbutton my vest, slipped it off and stood in front of him with my young 34Ds standing upright with extended nipples. I didn’t have to say shit. He was all over me in an instant.

“Do what you feel,” I said. I stepped into him and began licking his neck. He didn’t taste salty and I liked that too, a clean body. I slid out of my shorts. They dropped to the floor. I began to undo his buckle and went for his zipper. When his pants fell to the floor his big penis stuck out of his boxers. I jumped on him, wrapped my legs around his waist and removed his shorts with my feet. Everything was physical the way I liked it. Watching his leg muscles go up and down, watching his ass move got me excited. I rode that dick like a professional jockey. All the energy in my body started running wild and high, then moved to the center and released. My body shook, then relaxed. I slid down his body onto the floor.