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Authors: Karen Williams

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BOOK: The People vs. Cashmere
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“HA!” I teased then I then ran from the room shouting, “I'm coming Deuddi
P
!” Once I hit the living room, I shouted, “You in for a treat, Daddy!”
He was flicking through the channels on the television before settling on a game. That was pretty much Daddy. He worked hard all day, came home, kissed us, spent a little time with his wife, ate, and watched television. Even though he was a handsome man, he felt no need to be out in the streets. In fact our mother did way more partying than he ever did. Every Friday she was at Tobos in Long Beach, a club where there was a dance floor, bar, and pool tables.
“So what did you cook, baby?” Pearla asked, pulling the foil off the platters on the table.
“My special, chili spaghetti, Mama, with some shredded cheese on top, you know, a little salad with romaine lettuce. You know we doing it up, because we got the romaine.”
Daddy chuckled and shook his head at me. “Baby, you know you silly.”
Me and Mama laughed too.
“We also got some buttered rolls, and for dessert, Daddy, I did your favorite.”
Mama screeched as if the dinner was prepared for her.
“Damn, Mama! Why you gotta be so loud?” Desiree snapped, emerging from the bedroom and sitting down.
“Watch your mouth!” Dad had an angry look in his eyes, rising from the couch and coming to sit at the dinner table.
Desiree sucked her teeth.
“Like I was saying, Dad, I made your favorite, peach cobbler. And I even went to the market and got some vanilla ice cream to go on top of it.”
“Well, hell, let's sit on down and eat,” Daddy drawled. He smacked Mama on her ass.
We all sat down and passed the food around. “So, Miss Desiree,” Mama joked, “what did you cook, or did your ass stay on the phone like you usually do, Negro?”
Desiree ignored Mama and kept eating.
I felt generous and helped her out. I took a sip of my soda. “She made the salad, Mama.”
“It's a good salad, and you put your foot in this spaghetti, baby!” Daddy leaned over, grabbed the platter, and spooned some more into his plate.
That shit just made it worse. I didn't even bother to look up or say thank you. That would've made Desiree angrier. “So, Daddy, you excited?” I asked.
“Yeah, baby. Monday thru Friday, nine to five, I got my own office. Shit mileage—Can't get no better than that.”
“I know that's right, baby!” Mama sashayed to the fridge and grabbed a beer. She flicked the top off and took a long sip of it.
“And if I need to do overtime, I can, baby, as much as I want. And since Christmas and birthdays are coming up, I know my ass gonna be back on that road killing that overtime.” Daddy winked at Mama, who walked back over and sat on his lap.
“Yeah, Deuddi,” she said, “'cause there's this real pretty bracelet I been real partial too, baby. I saw it when I was at the mall shopping.”
Daddy moaned, but his hands tightened around Mama's waist.
I hopped up. This was a celebration, so I turned on Daddy's favorite song. “Hey now, Daddy check this out!” It was Marvin Gaye's “Got To Give It Up.”
Once the music wafted around the room, Mama stood up and began her wiggling, enticing Daddy.
I started twisting also and booty-bumped Desiree, and she stood to her feet as well and joined us. Then I pulled Daddy to his feet and danced with him as well. “Shake it, Daddy!” I yelled.
“Man, my girls growing up!” Daddy twirled me around in circles then joined me in the two-step, while Mama twisted and shook like they did when they were in their twenties, dances that neither Desiree nor I did.
“Y'all gotta do some new shit—stuff,” Desiree yelled. “Come on, Cash money, let's show them how it's done.”
“All right.”
We crouched down, placed our hands on our knees, and popped our booties back and forth.
Daddy fell back on the couch, just messing around, and screamed, “Lord, no!”
Meanwhile Mama tried to copy what we were doing. And, yeah, she had enough ass, but she just couldn't get it.
Me and my sister high-fived each other, the fucked-up words and the blows we threw that morning disregarded. Yeah, that night we had a blast.
Chapter 3
Things were cool for a minute. Daddy being home on the weekends, we did more things as a family. But I knew two people that weren't too pleased—Mama, 'cause she couldn't go out like she wanted to, and Desiree, who had to be extra careful when she snuck guys in the house, with her dumb ass. I mean, I loved the hell out of Mama and my sister, and Daddy was such a good man. That should have been enough for Mama to keep her ass in the house and Desiree to keep her legs closed. One night I stayed up with him and watched a horror flick while Mama was out clubbing. Desiree was in the room getting fucked, and Daddy had no idea. When I could no longer keep my eyes open, I gave Daddy a hug and went to bed.
As I was getting in bed, Desiree was on her bed, scrubbing her pussy. I shook my head at her. Daddy would be in for a surprise to see Desiree's trampy ass. Sure as hell can't wear any damn white at her wedding, but she'd probably fake the funk, and her husband would be cool, 'cause he wouldn't know Miss Desiree really ain't so damn innocent.
“What?” she asked, rubbing herself with a washcloth, her legs in the air.
“You a nasty bitch, that's what.”
She threw the washcloth at me.
I threw it back. “Mark my words, dumb ass, one day Daddy gonna find out.”
“Stop hatin'.”
“Whatever.” I turned over and pulled the covers over my head. She had the whole room smelling like
budussy
—butt, dick, and pussy—for sure.
And, true enough, a couple nights later, the shit hit the muthafuckin' fan.
I was awaken out of my sleep by the sound of moaning and rocking, and the smell of butt, dick, and pussy was in the air again stronger than I had ever smelled before. I froze when I heard more than two voices in the room. Maybe I was still half-'sleep. I rubbed my eyes as quietly as I could.
“Ouuu, yes! Right there!”
Pretending I was still 'sleep, I took a deep breath and flipped my body over, so I could get a good view. I moved slowly, sliding my legs and moving on my stomach. I even faked a couple of snores. But, shit, I wanted to know what the fuck was going on in here. I saw clothes scattered on the floor, shoes, drawers, shirts, pants, belts, my sister's nightgown, but there was nobody on the bed.
My eyes scanned the room, and I saw her. Them. Desiree was on all fours on her knees, like a dog, a nigga behind her bucking like he was a disc jockey, and a nigga in front of her, his dick in her mouth.
But that wasn't the biggest shock, if you could imagine. The biggest shock was seeing Daddy standing in the doorway. The small light the hallway cast in our room showed the horrified look on his face.
“Suck my dick right, bitch!”
That was it. Daddy's look changed to anger. In the next millisecond, he tore through the room and rushed them both, knocking them both off Desiree. They groaned and scurried around like mice.
“Get the fuck out of my house!” he yelled. Then he hauled off and knocked Desiree in her mouth.
She fell on the floor, screaming, “Daddy!”
Daddy didn't stop there neither. He took off his house shoe, snatched her up by one arm, and began beating her naked ass with it. She was crying hysterically and begging him to stop. The dudes took the opportunity to rush out the room and, safe to assume, out the house.
Mama rushed in the room, and it took both of us to get Daddy off Desiree.
“Daddy, please stop,” I pleaded.
“Des, baby, stop before you hurt her!” Mama shouted, grabbing his arm.
Daddy jerked away from Mama and flung Desiree on her bed, where she continued to cry loudly. He pulled away from me too and stalked out of the room, and Mama chased after him.
I followed her into the hallway but didn't enter the living room and just listened.
His voice was angry and hoarse. “I done worked too gotdamn hard all these years to see my flesh and blood ho'ing in my own house.”
I took some more steps, hid in the corner, watched and listened.
Daddy turned to Mama. “Woman, you betta put a stop to this, and you betta do it now!”
I had never seen him shout at Mama, unless they were doing their love sessions. But that would be more like, “Pearla, damn! Give me my pussy!”
Mama rubbed her hands up and down his back. “I will, baby.”
He pulled away and sat down on the couch.
Mama held her neck in both her hands. “I'll go talk to her right now, Des.”
I heard her house shoes slide on the carpet. When she saw me standing in the hallway, she said, “Cash, go calm your father down.”
I nodded and offered a smile, and she brushed past me.
I approached Daddy slowly and sat down next to him. He was leaning over, his face in his hands. He didn't acknowledge my presence. I leaned forward too and tugged at both of his hands, damp because of the crying. Poor Daddy, his eyes were shiny with fresh tears.
I made a cross-eyed face that I did to make him laugh when I was a kid, and he gave a small chuckle.
“Daddy, you can't sit up all night. This the night you gotta do your overtime for Mama.”
“I know, baby.” He grabbed my face in his hands, caressed it, then kissed both my cheeks.
“She won't do it again, Daddy.”
The scene from earlier must have flashed before his eyes. They watered again.
“Y'all girls mean the world to me. Y'all always been my angels. Why I never cared about busting my ass day in and day out, working those double shifts, 'cause I wanted you girls to have a mom at home to raise y'all properly. This shit is not what I wanted for y'all. I'd rather die than see what I just saw—you girls being treated like tramps. I want the best for y'all—college, marriage, healthy children, a man that's gonna court you, treat y'all right. The best the world has to offer, baby, that's what I want for you girls.”
“I know, Daddy. And we want that stuff too. I'm gonna give you that. And, Desiree, she gonna give you it too. She just messed up this once,” I lied, “but she won't pull that stunt again.”
He pulled me up by curving an arm around my waist till I was in his lap, like he used to do when I was little. To tell the truth, he never stopped doing it, letting me know, no matter how old I got, I would always be his baby, his little girl. He kissed me all over my face and said, “Darling, I love you so much. If I could, I'd have your behind cloned, so we'd have a dozen Cashmeres walking around.”
“I love you too. And I'd want them all to have you as their daddy.”
He told me this at least once a week. He used to tell Desiree too, but somewhere along the way, with her getting suspended from school, caught smoking and drinking, and failing all her classes, and all her promises to him that she never kept, somewhere in there, he stopped saying it to her. And I understood why.
“I ain't gonna let you down.”
I hugged him close.
“I don't think you can, bay. I don't think you can.”
I hoped he was right. I didn't think I was halfway near as perfect as he thought me and Desiree were. And now he saw she didn't belong on that pedestal he'd put her on.
I hoped Daddy wouldn't leave the house upset, and maybe he didn't, but he sure left tired as hell. 'Cause I stayed up with him and, despite my nursing, he wouldn't fall asleep. Daddy was like that when he was awakened out of his sleep. It took him a while to fall back. So we stayed up and watched reruns of Martin's crazy ass. It was the episode where Martin's stereo was missing. Me and my dad were busting up when Brotha Man came through the window of Martin's house. By the time the episode went off, he was dozing.
Then Mama came with his lunch and uniform. “Baby here!”
Daddy's eyes fluttered open quickly.
“Remember you signed up for that overtime?”
“Mama, maybe Daddy should—”
She pierced me with a look telling me to shut up.
Daddy groaned and rose to go in the bathroom with his uniform.
“Cash money, you know it's only one income coming up through this house. And, plus, Christmas is coming up. Girl, you betta let Daddy make that extra money.”
My jawline twitched, 'cause I itched to suck my teeth. Instead, I shook my head and got up from the couch to go in my bedroom to go back to sleep, wishing Daddy would just tell Mama no and go to sleep too. He needed some rest after everything that had just went down.
When I got there, Desiree was sitting on her bed, her knees curled up to her chest. “Is Daddy mad, Cash?”
“Naw. Just don't do that stupid shit no more,” I snapped, lying in my bed and pulling the covers over myself.
“You enjoying this shit, ain't you? You want him to hate me and think I ain't shit except a ho, so you can be his favorite.”
I ignored her, but she continued with her silly ass. I saved her, and she still was talking shit.
What's wrong with this girl? God, strike her down next time we go to church, please.
“Yeah, well, you damn sure ain't no betta than me, bitch. Your inner ho just ain't came out yet. But, mark my words, it will, and you gonna do worse shit than what I eva done. I'm going to make sure of that. Make sure Daddy look at you and have the same expression in his eyes that he has when he looks at me. Not like you no damn angel, but a slut.”
The only reply I gave her was my middle finger.
BOOK: The People vs. Cashmere
6.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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