The People vs. Cashmere (11 page)

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Authors: Karen Williams

BOOK: The People vs. Cashmere
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My aunt turned to me. “I want both of you out.”
“We'll be out, bitch.”
Aunt Ruby took a step toward her.
A naked Desiree stood and balled her fist, fire in her eyes. “Touch me, bitch, and get fucked up like my mom used to whip on you!”
Aunt Ruby stepped back.
“Aunt,” I whispered.
“I want you both out!” She turned on her heel and marched out of the room.
“Don't judge me. I needed the money, since you giving me that bullshit you made at the café. He offered, so I took it.”
“So you tricking now?”
“Shut up, Cashmere, and let's go.” Desiree zipped her duffel bag with her shit and rushed out. “Bye, bitch!” she yelled.
I walked out the house slowly behind her.
My aunt didn't reply. She just rocked back and forth in her chair. And despite how mean she was to us and how bad she made living with her, I felt bad for her. She just did, after all, catch her husband cheating red-handed. Her pride and joy, the man she boasted about at her card games with her friends and constantly brought up in her phone conversations, and always found a way to praise him on being a great husband, father, and lover, when all her other friends either complained about what a piece-of-shit man they had, how their men wouldn't stop hitting them, cheating on them, or commit to them. Or some just complained because they just didn't have one. Now she was sitting in a chair crying her eyes out. But don't get me wrong, she was going to take him back. He'd already cheated on her before. But, still, to see her hurt, I was hurting. I couldn't imagine that happening to me and Caesar.
“I hope everything gets better, Auntie. And I'm sorry for your pain.” I tried to pat her hand, but when she saw my hand moving toward hers, she snatched hers away and rested both her hands on her lap.
I smiled tightly and said, “Thanks for letting us stay here.”
“Cashmere, come on. Damn! Your man said he would drive us to a hotel.”
I walked out of the house, and down the porch steps to Caesar, who had just helped my sister in the back seat and was rushing to open the passenger door for me to get in.
Broken woman
, I thought. I gave him the best smile I could manage, but the truth was, I was worried out of my mind. I didn't feel comfortable or happy about leaving my aunt's house. There was no telling where we would be now, and since my sister wasn't the most reliable person any damn way, I knew we were going to be in some shit.
I snapped on my seat belt and took a deep breath when I felt my eyes tear up. Before Caesar could make it back into his seat, I wiped them away quickly and glared in the rearview mirror at my trifling-ass sister. This bitch's scandalousness had no gotdamn fucking limit!
I squeezed Caesar's arm as he made a U-turn and drove past our aunt's home. The whole time, watching my sister in the mirror.
“Stop fucking looking at me like that!” Desiree yelled.
“Like what?” I yelled back.
“Like I'ma—”
“A what?” I continued to eye her in the mirror like one would look at shit on the back of their shoe, hoping it would make her ass feel bad.
“You know what? Fuck it!”
“Yeah, let's . . .” I held off on what I wanted to say.
Desiree crossed her arms around her chest and stared out the side window. I hoped her ass was freezing in that skimpy-ass summer dress she wore.
“You ain't perfect, Cash,” Desiree said, her head rocking back and forth with every word. “That's all I got to say.”
I finally turned around and faced her. “You sure?”
“Sure about what?”
“That that's all you have to say?”
“Oh, you trying to get smart and shit.” I tossed a hand at her.
“Forget it, Desiree, just forget it.”
“I know what you thinking. You ain't gotta say it. It's all over your little face. You thinking I'm a ho because I slept with our uncle.”
Caesar coughed, and his eyes widened, but he kept them on the road. I closed mine briefly, embarrassed out of my mind. “That's what you thinking, ain't it? Or some shit like that? But sometimes you gots ta do what you gotta do.”
“Yeah,” I mumbled, “but not with family. You have to draw the line somewhere, don't you?”
“Shut the fuck up! You don't know shit, with your young, dumb ass.”
I know you ain't shit
, I thought to myself. Finally she silenced her mouth. Desiree had a way of pissing me the hell off 'cause she didn't know how to stop.
Caesar rubbed my thigh, and I smiled at him again. “Make a right here, boyfriend-in-law,” she spat out nastily, crossing her arms under her chest and twisting her head to one side.
When he did, she told him, “Now pull into that motel.” I cringed inside when I got a look at the place.
“Desiree, here? This place looks horrible!”
I cried, my eyes wide.
“Well, shit, Cashmere, I ain't eighteen until next month, and I know the manager here. It's the best that I can do for now, so shut up.”
“How?”
She didn't answer until she opened her door, stepped out, and poked her head in my face. “How what?”
“How you know him?”
“We just cool, Cash, that's all. Stop asking me questions that are not your business.”
I gritted my teeth as she sashayed away to the office. I leaned over and kissed Caesar. “I'll see you tomorrow after school, okay.”
He chased after me as I got out of his car and tugged both me and my sister's bags. “Cashmere, are you sure you're okay here?”
I dropped Desiree's bag and reached up to stroke his cheek. “You so sweet, worrying about me. I'm so lucky to have a boyfriend like you, Caesar. I hope you know that.”
He kissed my hand and said, “I know it. But, baby, I'm worried about you.”
“Don't be. If me and my sister are anything, we are some survivors, and we'll be okay. I'll be at work tomorrow, so you don't have to worry.” I tiptoed and gave him a peck.
Desiree strolled up to us and yelled, “Hey, dude, get your ass off my fourteen-year-old sister.”
Caesar dropped his hands immediately, but I waved her away and put them back around my waist.
“No, I need to get home before Mother starts to worry about me.”
My sister mocked him. “ ‘Before Mother starts to worry about me'? Nigga, where you from?”
He ignored her, waved at me, and got into his car and drove away.
After his car vanished, I asked,” What room is it?”
“Girl, they gave us the honeymoon suite!”
Desiree bumped her booty into mine. Whenever she did that, I would laugh and say, “Girl, watch that bone 'cause we all know you ain't got no rump and that bone hurts.” And she would laugh and say, “But I got titties.”
“Come on, Cash, you ain't gonna say it?”
“Say what?”
“You know. Say it, Cash. Please, say it!”
I repeated the line in a flat voice. “Girl, watch that bone 'cause we all know you ain't got no rump and that bone hurts.”
She laughed. “But I got titties! Girl, you still crazy.”
And despite the situation and my anger, I laughed alongside her as we went to our honeymoon suite.
Chapter 13
I was on pins and needles the day I was to officially meet Caesar's whole family. Would they like me? Hate me? I wanted them to love me, because I knew his family meant a lot to him. I prayed everything went well. Since me and Desiree were currently living in a hotel, there was pretty much no way that I could afford to buy myself something to wear, get my hair done, or a manicure like I wanted.
Caesar said to wear something conservative, so I pulled out a linen dress I wore last Easter, one that dropped to my knees.
Since Desiree was trying to be on my good side, she painted my nails, toenails, and did my hair in a pretty style for me. She said, “You look real good, Cashmere, honestly.”
I bit my bottom lip and studied myself in the cracked mirror in the bathroom. “Just make sure you remember all that stuff Mama taught you.”
I turned around and gave her a funny look. “Mama ain't taught me shit.”
“Well, Daddy sure did, 'cause you know one thing he had a problem with, and that was not having proper table etiquette, and presenting ourselves like young ladies.”
I nodded. That, I was cool with. But what if they had other questions for me? Questions I wasn't just ready to answer.
Desiree read my thoughts. “Your daddy is an accountant, and your mother is a nurse.”
“Okay.” I took a deep breath. I wondered if Caesar would be okay with me lying to his parents.
The knock on the hotel room made me jump. I gave myself one last glance in the mirror. From the corner of my eye, I saw Desiree switch to the door and open it. What was up with the switching? Like Caesar wasn't what he was—my damn man!
She stood in front of the door, and pulled it open, her hands on her hips.
“Hello, sexy.”
“Hi. Is Cashmere here?”
Before she could say anything else, I rushed to the door and shoved her ass out of the way and went straight into Caesar's arms. “Hey.” I slipped my hands in his, and we walked to our car.
Desiree smacked her teeth. “Here we go with this lovejones bullshit,” she muttered.
When I looked back, I caught Desiree spying on us from the hotel window. I ignored her and sat in the passenger seat, careful not to wrinkle my dress.
“You look real nice, so don't worry, Cashmere,” Caesar said.
Shit, I hoped I did. But his words didn't stop me from stressing. Maybe I should have told Caesar no about meeting his family. I was, after all, a stripper and an orphan Annie. He was getting ready to go to a good college. There was no way anybody could see me as being on his level or good enough for him. Shit, sometimes I doubted it. What did this fool see in me any damn way? Maybe if things were different for me, when Mama was actually a wife and mother, and my dad was of sound body and mind, when we were just a middle-class family.
Caesar's family lived in Ladera Heights, a part of California I'd never heard of. Now I thought before our dad got sick that we were doing pretty good in our middle-class neighborhood, but these big-ass houses made our house look like one damn room.
“Caesar, your house looks like a mansion.”
“It is one,” he said casually, like it wasn't nothing.
“It is?”
“It's nothing, Cashmere. Just extra space to clean.”
But I found that hard to believe as we drove around the wraparound driveway and I saw a damn near perfect manicured lawn and the marble entrance with the French double doors.
As we walked up the steps, I saw a fireplace from the outside. And when he used his key and we stepped inside, there were windows in the damn ceiling, which he called skylights. A winding staircase overlooked the living room, so at any given time people could look down on us. I made sure I kept a smile on my face and didn't curse. The hardwood floors were white and shiny, like someone had just polished them, so I took small steps, afraid I would bust my ass.
“Are we the only ones here? I don't hear anybody else, Caesar.”
He chuckled. “The walls are sound-proof.”
“Oh.” I felt so stupid and scared, and both feelings got the better of me.
I turned and was about to run out the damn house, but Caesar grabbed me and whipped me around in his arms. “What's wrong, Cashmere?”
I shook my head and avoided his eyes. “You know damn well I don't belong here. You know you met me at a strip club. What you doing is nice, but I'm not going to ever fit here, and it's cool.”
He studied me carefully. “If you don't belong here, I don't belong here. I can't judge you for being in a strip club 'cause I was in one that night too. So I'm no better than you are. Coming or not coming from money does not define a person. And I think you are special. Even that night I met you, I felt you didn't belong there. And you didn't. You were just doing what you had to do. That makes you a better person than most people I know. So if you wanna leave, say the word. I'll leave with you.”
I thought about it as he waited patiently for my reply. And he was right. Yes, I could be mischievous, I had a dirty mouth, but I wasn't a bad person, was I? If he didn't see me as one and saw me as someone special, why couldn't I? I used to. I pushed all the negative thoughts away. I would work them out later.
“I'll stay.” As I looked around, all I saw was luxury and money—expensive paintings, crystal, fur-lined couches . . .
The double doors across the living room slipped open, and I could hear a woman's voice, her heels clicking against the floor. I guess she didn't care about scuffing them up, or falling.
“Caesar, honey, is that you?”
Caesar's mother wore an expensive, sharp-looking suit. She was very pretty, and Caesar had a lot of his features from her. But it was the bling coming from so many places on her neck, ears, wrist, and fingers that really caught my attention. She was full of diamonds. She had on some sharp shoes too, the ones Mama use to drool over on the Internet (Jimmy Choo) that she never had enough money to buy, and her hair was slicked back in a thick bun. Judging from that house, all that shit on her had to be real.
She walked down the long path from the dining room to the living room. “I thought I saw your car drive up, son.”
“Hey, Mom.” Caesar untangled his hand from mine and embraced her.
As he did, her eyes pierced me as her chin rested on his shoulder, so I offered a smile. She did too, but she might as well not have, 'cause it was a cold-ass one at that. I knew I was gonna have some shit with her.
When she pulled away from her son and turned to me, I stuttered out like a damn retard. “Hi, ma'am.”
“Hello.” Her hands barely touched mine when I held out my hand to shake hers.
Bitch
!
“Is this the girl you were telling me and your dad about? That has been helping you at your little store.” She was now wiggling, rubbing the hand she shook mine with, and looking at it disdainfully, like she had just dipped it in shit.
Caesar smiled. “Yeah.”
She raised a brow. “Yeah?”
“I'm sorry. Yes, Mother, this is Cashmere, my girlfriend.”
I stared down at the slick floor as I felt her eyes dissect me.
Wasn't shit warm about her reception.
“Well, everyone is waiting on you, so let's go in inside so we can eat.”
“Right, Mom.”
We followed after her into the dining room then walked down some stairs into another big room.
When I stumbled on a step, Caesar rubbed my back, soothing me. “Relax, Cashmere.”
The dining room was bigger than the whole café.
I was introduced to everyone there, from his dad and grandparents, to an aunt and uncle, who were cool. But his evil-ass mom mean-mugged me the whole time I was there. Then his older brother, Angelo, wouldn't stop looking at me, and when I held my hand out to his ugly-ass girlfriend and said hello, she brushed right past me like I wasn't shit. Caesar's brother would not leave me alone, though.
The food was cool. Everything was set up like a buffet, and you pretty much got what you wanted, some stuff I had before, some I didn't. There was regular stuff like pot roast, stuffed chicken, salmon, filet mignon, shrimp, lamb, lobster, lobster bisque, crab, clams, pasta, rice, potatoes, some shit called keish, artichokes I wasn't gonna bother with, and asparagus and whatnot. I ate light as hell 'cause his mama watched me more than she chewed.
I rose from the table to get some more food and avoided her eyes, which were making me dizzy.
“Try the crab. It's sweet and tender. Like you.”
First, I thought it was Caesar getting a little freaky, but when I turned and saw it was Angelo, I frowned, grabbed some shrimp, and rushed back to the table.
Questions during dinner ranged from where I was from, how old I was, what my parents did, to what I planned on doing with my life. The shitty part of it was that the mama was the one asking all the questions and didn't give anyone else the chance to ask me shit. She damn near choked when I told her I wanted to do hair for a living, but Caesar held my hand under the table and squeezed it, letting me know he was okay with my dream.
The dad cut in and said, “Well, we own a couple—”
The mother cut him off and drilled me some more. She wasn't gonna rest until she made me feel like uncomfortable, I guess. But I answered each question and kept eye contact with her ass. I know one thing, if Daddy was there he would have been proud of the way I handled myself. And Caesar was proud of me too.
After dinner, people scattered around the house. The grandparents went into the family room to watch TV on this big-ass wide-screen TV. I know because I helped his grandmother in there.
Everyone went out on the balcony, leaving Caesar and Angelo, who were attacking the leftover shrimp, lobster, and crab like little boys in a candy store.
My bladder started talking to me, so I asked, “Caesar, can you take me to the bathroom?”
Before Caesar could answer, his father called out, “Angelo, take her to the bathroom.”
Then before I could say, “Never mind. I'm cool. I'll hold the shit,” he rushed off.
A smile curved around Angelo's lips. He looked identical to his brother, but he was just so trifling. Hitting on me despite the fact that he had a fiancée, and that I was his brother's girl made him ugly as hell to me.
“No problem, little bro. Follow me.”
I smiled, trying to be polite, but quickly changed my expression to a stern one, the way Daddy used to look at me when I did something wrong, so Angelo didn't think I was inviting his advances.
He slipped a hand around my waist.
I pulled away and shifted my body to the left 'cause he was on my right.
“You don't remember me, do you?”
“Naw, so please stop talking to me and show me the bathroom, please.” I was trying my best to not curse.
“Bitch.”
His eyes slid over my body, making my fucking skin crawl. I stopped walking and started to shake 'cause I was holding a fist back that I wanted to fire on him.
“Your ass wasn't so proper when you was popping your pussy on my dick or slapping your titties in my face for dollars at that house party, now were you?”
Heat rushed to my face. I was having a hard time remembering his face. I mean, I had stripped for dozens of men and couldn't help it that the only one that ever stood out to me was Caesar.
“What house party, nigga?”
He laughed. “That's more like it. Your sister was there too.”
Oh, shit
! It came back to me now. A while back we did this private party for these dumb-ass college dudes, and Angelo was the drunk one who'd offered me an extra three hundred dollars to fuck him. I had told him to kiss my ass. I guess he couldn't handle the rejection and was holding a grudge against me.
“Is it coming back to you . . . slut?” Even as he insulted me, he reached over and tried to grab one of my breasts. “Now play nice, and I won't mention it to Caesar.”
Oh, he had me fucked up. I slapped his hand away. “Muthafucka, let's get this straight. Caesar know what I do, but do he know his brother a piece of shit, trying to push up on his girl?” I rushed off before the muthafucka could answer, but deep down, I was too embarrassed to mention it to him.
After I peed I couldn't find Caesar, but his mother was still alone on the balcony, sipping on some wine.
I approached her slowly and planted myself to her right, leaning slightly forward and looking out at the view. “You have a really nice house.”
She assessed me coolly. “You're very pretty, and you have a very beautiful body.”

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