The Glamorous Life (20 page)

Bambi laughed, but Egypt was serious as a heart attack.

“You were fine. He pried his way into yo life and he want to do a disappearing act. He don’t decide when he wanna give somebody the boot. We gonna give him the boot—this Timberland boot right up his ass,” she said, kicking into the air like she was playing kickball.

Egypt had Bambi hyped, and she too slipped on her Timbs. They drove over to Lynx’s house and banged on the door. Of course, they didn’t get an answer, but it made Bambi feel a lot better. She realized the longer she didn’t hear from him or ride by his house to see if his car or truck was there, the faster she would get over him.

I guess the principles of drug rehab apply here. You have to go cold turkey. You have to just leave it all alone. You can’t just dip and dab and think you’ll get over it.

Two months later at the office, Bambi interrupted a conversation she was having with Egypt to head into the bathroom. She leaned over the toilet and threw up her breakfast. What was going on? She didn’t feel like she had the flu, but this was the third day in a row she couldn’t hold anything down.

“Girl, we’re going to da drugstore right now,” Egypt said, holding Bambi’s pocketbook and keys when Bambi came out.

“What for?” Bambi asked, trying to act as if she felt fine.

“What for? What you think? To get you a EPT test,” she said as she held the door for Bambi to come out behind her.

They got the kit that day, and the little stick came back blue for “baby.” Bambi wanted to crawl into bed and never come out. She knew she must have fallen hard and deep when she realized she’d actually been having unprotected sex with Lynx. She beat herself up mentally with her head laid on the table crying. No matter how much she tried to get him off her mind,
the only words that she heard were the lyrics of DMX’s song, “I’m slipping,” playing over and over in her head.

If she went through with this, who would help her raise the baby? Her mother was too busy hugging the bottle to play Grandma. She saw her mother’s struggle and decided there was no way she was going to put her child through the life that she had endured without a father. No, she knew if the saying “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do” had ever been true, it was right then and there. She got on the phone that day and made a doctor’s appointment.

Three days later Egypt went with her to the doctor’s office. In the car, Egypt tried to say whatever she thought would stop the tears from rolling down her friend’s face, but nothing seemed to work. They sat in the parking lot of the clinic for fifteen minutes as Bambi pulled herself together.

The nurse asked her if she needed anything to help her relax, but Bambi said no. She just wanted to get it over with. She hadn’t expected the abortion to be painful, but it was. She had no idea if it was from the pain of the actual procedure or the hurt in her heart. Egypt took her back to the apartment—the apartment that Lynx never did get to visit. Bambi wondered if he was off with his crew, laughing about what a fool she had been and about how he had played her before she played him. Well, she had indeed learned her lesson. When it came to men, the only business she had to tend to was waiting for them to slip, and when they did, she’d bankrupt them.

That night she slept, but she woke up about 3 a.m. with cramps so bad she thought she’d have to go to the ER. She took some Tylenol and it got a little better, but the next day she woke up in a pool of blood. When she took a shower, big clots of blood fell on the shower floor. Something had to be wrong; she was bleeding uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry, but you’re going to need a partial hysterectomy,” the doctor told her when she finally went in to see him. “You won’t be able to have children.” He said it bluntly and coldly. The average person would have gone into some kind of emotional breakdown, but Bambi wasn’t the average person.

Bambi nodded. Maybe God was punishing her. Maybe she should have had the baby anyway. She didn’t want to struggle to raise a child without a father around like her mother had done. But if that was the case, she’d take her punishment like a woman. I don’t want to bring any kids into this fucked-up world anyway, she thought.

“All right,” she said to the doctor. “When can we do it?”

As soon as Bambi left the doctor’s office, her cell phone rang. It was Amy. “Girl, you heard what happened to yo boy Reggie, down in the jail?”

“Nope, what happened?” The thought alone of something— anything—happening to Reggie down in the jail was like music to her ears, and she needed some good news right about now.

“Girl, this is fresh off the press. Your boy, or your girl should I say, was stabbed in the neck while he was in line in the rec yard. Don’t you know they broke the shank off in him.”

“For real?”

“Yup!”

“Is he dead?”

“Yup! And you know they don’t give a shit who did it.”

“Good for that nigga.”

Bambi hung up her cell phone and got in her car. Reggie’s death didn’t faze her. She had lost her baby, and now Reggie’s momma had lost hers. It was just another day in the jungle.

CHAPTER 20

One Hand Washes Another

T
ricia sat at the bar in the Radisson hotel getting her drink on. With the liquor poured on demand, she did what she did best—sipped her Paul Masson and talked trash. She cracked jokes without thinking twice about anyone’s feelings and said whatever she felt like saying. Although she was loud and boisterous, the bartender didn’t dare have her removed. After all, she was his best tipper.

A sexy dude young enough to be her son sat beside her at the bar. He looked like he was in need of a laugh. He had a frown on his face and tapped his keys on the bar like he was thinking about something. Tricia leaned over and slurred, “Young gun, what’s wrong with you? Pick yo lip up off the floor and tell the old lady who the heck is messing with you?”

He smiled at Tricia for trying to sympathize with him.

“You ain’t no old lady,” he said in an attempt to give her a compliment.

“Boy, I’m old enough to be your momma,” she answered,
and clinked the ice in her glass, looking for the bartender. He was over at the other end of the bar messing with some ugly chick and she couldn’t get his attention.

“Damn, I’d never believe that.”

“I got a daughter your age.”

His cell phone rang, and the young dude pulled it out of his pocket.

“Yeah,” he answered. As Tricia eavesdropped on his conversation, it was apparent he’d become frustrated with the person on the other end. “Look, get me off. I can’t stand an indictment for no bullshit-ass charge like that. Just tell me, are you going to be able to beat the charges if they indict me? Man, this is some bullshit. Look, man, get this mess straight. I’ll pay whatever,” he said as he hung up the phone. He shoved it back into the pocket of his Pelle Pelle leather jacket.

“Whoever it is messing with you, do you want me to go jack them up? Because you know I will,” Trish said with a sweet smile as she picked up her keys off the counter like she was ready to go and fight the people for him.

“Nah, I can handle them,” he said, sounding disgusted.

“Well, you want to tell me about it? And we can just talk shit and dog them out together.”

He finally smiled and said, “Yo, Miss Lady, you wild as hell.”

“You say you don’t want to talk, you don’t want me to fuck ’em up. Shoot, I was trying to help your pitiful-looking ass out. I could have given them the look of death, if you wanted me to. Lord knows I got it. All I got to do is look at them, and they’ll back off.”

“No, you don’t! Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and yo personality is genuine.” He smiled at her. “Miss Lady, you cool as shit. I’m gonna be all right.”

He looked at her key chain as she threw it back on the bar
and became puzzled and asked, “Who is this with you, yo sister?” He pointed to the other person on the key chain picture.

Tricia gazed at the key chain and said, “No, that’s my baby.”

“Yo baby?”

“I told you I was old enough to be your momma,” she said, and gazed at the picture. “Pretty, ain’t she?”

He shook his head with a devilish grin as his cell phone rang again. He talked briefly for a minute and hung up.

“Yo, bartender,” he called out.

As he waited for the bartender she looked at his chain.

“This is a nice piece you got around your neck.” She nodded her head, looking at how clear the diamonds were. “Star of David, huh?”

“Yup,” he said with a smile. He seemed mighty proud of that necklace.

“Young ’un, what you know ’bout the Star of David?”

#x201C;Nothing. I just saw it and wanted it.”

#x201C;Look, let the ol’ gal school you…. The Star of David symbolizes the shield of protection for David. He used it to show God was protecting him from all directions. So it’s supposed to protect you.”

“Damn, you learn something new every day,” he said, shaking his head.

“In the future you might want to research religious pieces before you buy them.”

“Why must I do research when I can meet you for drinks and you’ll just school me?” Just then the bartender walked up. The young dude went into his pocket, pulled out two one-hundred-dollar bills, and said, “Look, her drinks are on me tonight. Just take real good care of her.”

“Why, thank you,” Tricia said, pleased to know she was set for the night. “I’ll get you next time.”

“No, it’s no problem. I’ve got to go make a run, but I’m always in and out of here, so I’ll definitely see you around. Maybe even later tonight.” He winked at her and walked out the door.

Tricia continued running her mouth, talking about every single person that walked through the door. She realized she had to pee, so she stumbled to the bathroom, but didn’t quite make it in time and pissed on herself.

“How ’bout you let me call you a cab?” the bartender said when she came back and ordered another drink.

“Hell nah,” Tricia said, looking around for someone to cuss out.

“Then I’m going to call your daughter,” he said, and turned to the phone.

“That’s right. Call Bambi. Tell her that her old drunk momma has pissed herself and needs to go home. And gimme another drink to go. You little snitch! You know what snitches get? Snitches get stitches.”

The bartender shook his head, but fixed her one more drink after he called Bambi to come get her. Tricia took the drink and her purse and started toward the door. She tripped and spilled the drink all over her pale yellow silk shirt.

“Guy dammit!” she screamed.

Just then a strong hand reached down and helped her stand up.

“Hey, Ms. Lady, let me help you.”

Tricia looked up and saw the young gun holding on to her arm.

“I thought you was gone somewhere,” she said.

“I finished my business and came back. Why don’t you let me help you to your car?”

“I don’t need any help,” she screamed, pulling her arm away from him.

“I know you don’t need no help,” he said. “Still, at the same time, maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea for me to just help you make it to your car.”

“I ain’t no gotdamn fool. I ain’t driving in my condition. My daughter is coming to get me, and she need to hurry up. The li’l black heifer.”

“Look, I just want to help you like you wanted to help me when people was messing with me. You know one hand washes another,” he explained in a calm voice as he led her to a chair. “So, sit right here. I’m going to get some napkins so I can help you clean this spill off your blouse.”

Tricia sat in the chair, feeling the place slowly whirling around her. She wondered where Bambi was. She didn’t stop to think that it would take at least twenty minutes for Bambi to get there from her place.

Quickly returning, he said, “Look, is your daughter name Barbie or something?”

“You mean Bambi,” she said.

“Well, I just talked to her, and she told me to get you out here. I’m going to take you to meet her. She don’t want you around here. You know how she feel about you and how much she love you, don’t you?” he said in a charming voice.

Tricia never thought twice. As the young man helped her into his candy apple red Benz, she noticed something dangling from his neck.

“What the hell is that?” she asked. “Are you a Jew?”

He just smiled and said, “That’s a Star of David. You told me that, remember?”

Tricia shrugged and mumbled something as the helpful young man shut the door.