Chapter 88.5: Humbled II
Chenae’s POV
Antoine called and said I should be ready to go when he arrives to pick me up for Fall Break. The schedule works out for him because he’s trying to land a major distribution deal, and I’m beyond ready to go home to Momma’s.
I asked Momma why Antoine seems to want to spend so much time with me. She said that he told Pierre he’d take over. He told Momma that he hopes to help reconcile me and Pierre before I dig myself into a hole with my big brother that I can’t get out of. I’m confused by that. I know Pierre is angry with me but I don’t think he’s that mad.
After my last class ends on Wednesday, I pack up my books and laptop and head to the gate. I’m ready to go and I’m glad to see Antoine’s already waiting on me. He steps out of the car and he’s mobbed.
I watch in stunned amazement as my brother is surrounded by at least 200 students all wanting autographs. Almost all of the Pan-Hell is there, asking questions and shouting compliments, and Antoine smiles, signs some autographs and starts wedging his way through the throng.
I haven’t moved from next to the gate. It was so fast I was shocked.
“Yo, I ain’t trying to stay here all damn day. Get a move on,” he yells at me. I glare and start moving to the car, but it’s not until the security guards arrive that I’m able to reach my brother’s car with my bags.
He’s bought a Mercedes. I roll my eyes. Good grief. First thing rappers do when they get a little bit of money is blow it on cars, houses, and bling. I wonder what the house looks like.
My rolled eyes aren’t missed by Antoine. “You judging again. You don’t know shit about my finances. Quit assuming.” He tucks my suitcase in the trunk and opens my door. I’m shocked my brother knows how to be a gentleman. The campus security clears the way for us to leave and we hit I-10 home.
“I know that the first thing rappers do when they get a little bit of money is blow it on cars, houses, and bling. You have the car.”
Antoine is silent. He sets the cruise control and slouches in the seat.
“At first, I thought you were just a snob, Baby Shug. Now I see Bobby was right. It’s deeper than that,” he says quietly.
My breath hitches. Now what does Bobby think of me?
“You really have been allowed to believe that you’re better than everyone else. You really believe you’re superior.” He snorts. “You fucking amaze me.” He looks over at me. “My real worth, in real dollars, is $3 million.”
My mouth drops.
“I don’t feel a need to flash my shit, just like Pierre don’t. I own the studio. I own my masters, my catalog. I’m inking deals to allow my music to be used for commercials and sporting events. I own my company. I’m nearly 40 and I’ve hustled and worked hard all my damn life and this is the first thing I’ve ever bought that was flashy and your response, instead of congratulating me, is to piss on it.”
I’m really not enjoying these talks with my family anymore.
“I coulda bought this Mercedes 10 years ago but I wanted to buy it when I felt I’d arrived. When I felt I’d made it. So thank you for not allowing me to enjoy this moment.” He looks over. “By the way, you’re the second person to ride in it. Momma was first.”
I don’t say anything as we clear New Orleans. Halfway through the ride I finally speak up.
“I’m sorry. It’s a smooth ride, nice. I woulda thought you more a Beemer man, but I guess I was wrong there too.” I look over and Antoine’s face is still stony. I sigh. “I’m sorry. I guess I just fell for the stereotype, you know, rich rapper, bling, car—”
“I’m not a fucking stereotype. I’m your brother,” Antoine says harshly. “No matter what, your first response should be to congratulate me. At minimum, your first response should not be to roll your fucking eyes when I’m your ride home.” I cringe. “Change in plans. We staying with Aunt Rose this weekend.”
“What!” I’m completely outraged. “No way, Antoine! No fucking way will I ever stay in that roach infested hovel—”
“It’ll do you some good.”
“Taking roaches back to campus will do me good?”
Antoine smirks. “Nah. But watching you battle ’em all weekend will do me some good.”
I’m looking around Aunt Rose’s shack and trying not to cringe. There’s seven kids running around screaming, barefoot and half dressed, nappy headed and dirty. Cringe. Aunt Rose is frying fish in the kitchen and talking with Antoine. I’m looking at Tasha and Antoinette and shaking my head. Tasha is pregnant again. Fifth child. I simply can’t believe it.
When we were kids, Tasha and I were both in the gifted program. She was a math and science whiz and colleges, especially HBCUs, around the country were trying to recruit her to their schools. I was smart. Tasha was a genius. Now she’s just another baby momma and I’m disappointed in her.
“Hey.”
“Hey!” She gets up to hug me and I smell chicken and ribs. “You look good, Shug.”
“Thanks. You still working at the rib joint?”
“Yeah.” Well, I had the smell right. “Deion late on that child support again, like his kids don’t need nothing since he with that new bitch now.” I ignore the massive cockroach climbing the walls behind the couch. I can’t stay here. No damn way. I’d have to fumigate everything before I go back to campus. “How’s Tulane?”
“Good. Last year.”
She smiles. “And you went Greek. Pink and Green, huh?”
I throw up my pinky. “First and Finest!” We laugh and I sit, gingerly, on the couch. Antoinette sucks her teeth and rolls her eyes.
“Nice to see you remember you got family on this side. Half the time you act like you can’t be bothered to acknowledge we family.”
I stare at her. “You insult my Momma every time I’m in your presence. I don’t need to acknowledge you.”
“Yo Momma’s pussy got around—”
“Antoinette!” Aunt Rose has walked in and she caught the last part. Antoine looks furious. “Shut yo’ mouth.”
“Oh like you haven’t said worse. ‘Carol Jean wasn’t nothing but a ho’. ‘She caught my brother in a weak moment’. ‘Carol Jean only had two kids for my brother’. ‘I ain’t acknowledging them other bastards. They ain’t his’,” Antoinette sings, looking at Aunt Rose, who’s turning red.
The room is silent. I’m ready to leave but Antoine is looking at me like he’s amused.
“Well, I guess it’s a good thing Antoine is rich now. Maybe he’ll help the whole family instead of picking and choosing folk to help, like Pierre do.”
Antoine laughs. “Fuck you. Not gonna happen. I might have a good album, but my shit ain’t like Pierre’s. Don’t look to me to pay for shit.”
“Then what the fuck are you here for?” Nette says coldly, getting off the couch. She’s ready to pop any day now. “If you ain’t here to help family, yo ass can go to yo momma’s too.”
“Well, it’s nice to see we’re family until the money isn’t there,” I reply. “Nice to know that my brother’s only value to you is in his wallet. I don’t see you busting your ass to make his money. You can sing, Antoinette. Why don’t you work as a vocalist for Antoine and earn some money?”
Antoine’s turned red and is biting his lip. I simply can’t believe that Nette thinks that Antoine should just hand her money.
“Who the fuck is gonna take care of these little bastards running around, huh? Shit, babysitters cost money and Tasha’s ass trying to repopulate the earth.” At that, Antoine and I both start laughing. Nette has three of her own, four with this one. I wonder if I should point out the massive speck of dirt in her eyes.
“Quit having babies, then.”
Everyone gets quiet and looks at me. Antoine is smirking.
“Really?” Rose says. “You think the solution is as simple as that?”
I look at her, then Antoine. I get the feeling I might be on shaky ground here but I’m pressing on.
“It’s part of it. I mean, damn, look around. Between Tasha and Nette, there’s about to be nine kids in this house. Nine under the age of 10. That’s ridiculous. I’m not saying don’t have sex if you wanna have sex. I’m saying use condoms.”
“I use condoms,” Tasha says quietly, staring holes in me.
“You use his condoms or yours?”
“His,” she says, looking at me funny. “He the man. He bring his own condoms.”
“And you’re sure they’re good condoms? You sure they’re the right condoms for him? You sure he isn’t trying to front using Trojan XXXL instead of XL?” Antoine snickers. “Shit, even if he’s wearing the right condoms, contact Planned Parenthood and get some birth control.”
“Birth control costs money,” Nette says.
“So do kids,” I reply. “Kids cost, on average, $250K to raise from birth to 18—”
“Bullshit!” they both reply. “Kids don’t cost that fucking much to raise,” Nette says.
I shrug. “Birth control each month is cheaper than kids for the rest of your life.”
It’s silent in the room. I shrug. “I’m not saying that my little cousins are mistakes—”
“I am. Every single one of they little bad-asses is a fucking mistake,” Aunt Rose growls, staring at Tasha. “Shug is right. Y’all need to quit making fucking excuses and get some damn birth control or close your legs.” She leaves and returns to the kitchen, Antoine right behind her. Nette waddles off and I look at Tasha, who looks near tears.
“My children are not fucking mistakes,” she says quietly. “They might not have been planned but I wanted every single one of them—”
“Every time?” I ask softly. “Because I was there the first two times you found out. Remember?”
Tasha first got pregnant at 16. Everyone was stunned because she seemed so responsible and determined to achieve and leave Carencro. Pierre had even told her that based on her good grades and attendance in school, if she kept it up he’d fund her college education to wherever. Aunt Rose was thrilled because everyone saw that Wilma and Thelma were doing great in college. When she got pregnant, everyone was hoping that Pierre would still come through anyway. His answer was simple.
“Nope. She belongs to her boyfriend now. My rules are simple and she didn’t meet them.”
Momma asked if he was willing to reconsider and Pierre said something that I’ve kept in mind all my life. “Life is full of choices, Momma. My offer to pay for schooling is similar to me acting as a scholarship fund. Meet the qualifications, I’ll pay. She don’t meet them anymore. If I let Tasha slide, then what prevents this from happening over and over again? How many more of my cousins will have babies and ask me for money?”
Momma stopped trying to change his mind. He was right.
Tasha cried, begged and pleaded with Pierre but he was unmoved. He did send her a beautiful crib for the baby. She destroyed it in a fit of rage. Tracy was born and I saw how hard life got for Tasha. I had a boyfriend at the time, was contemplating sex, and watching my favorite cousin’s grades drop because she had a baby to take care of. Tasha dropped out in her senior year. I kept my legs closed.
Deion graduated and went to the community college.
I learned from that. Pierre was right, as always. Tasha got stuck with the baby and Deion’s fine. He just got married, to another woman, three months ago. Tasha had all his kids, is pregnant with one now because he kept promising to marry her, and he put a ring on another woman’s finger. Tasha didn’t know her worth. I know mine. I’m keeping my legs closed.
Tasha looks at me and swallows hard. “OK, maybe Tracy and Tenisha caught me off guard, but I do love my children.”
I hug Tasha tight. “No one is saying you don’t love your kids, Tasha. I’m saying that maybe you need to do for you.” I grin. “Perhaps the absentee Daddy needs to have his kids for a while.”
“What?!”
I nod. “Give him custody. You’ve been here, having his babies, while he’s been off fucking and marrying other women. Give him custody, get your GED, and enroll in college. You know you’ll ace the GED so do something for you. Get started on a degree.”
“Those are my kids, Chenae,” she says, outraged. “You outta yo’ fucking mind.”
“No,” I reply just as harsh, “I’m trying to help you.” I raise a hand to cut off her protest. “You missed out on Pierre paying for it, so let me give you a different scenario. You give the kids to their Daddy and make him take care of them for a little while. That’ll do two things. One, it’ll fuck up his new marriage because I’ll bet she didn’t plan on having all those kids in her house from jump.”
Tasha smiles at that thought.
“Two, it’ll keep his ass busy and make him appreciate you. He’ll see what it’s like to have to juggle kids and his job and wife and all his shit. Like I said, kids are expensive. So much for trips to the Dirty and Mobile to gamble with his boys. No more weed. No more fun.”
She laughs. “Fuck that! The kids’ll eat him out of house and home and putting clothes on they asses is a job!”
“Exactly,” I reply smugly. “So you can fuck up his life by making him be Daddy for a little while. Make Daddy mean more than ‘that nigga that stops by when he feels like it’. Meanwhile, you get your life back on track. Apply for financial aid and go to college. Don’t let your kids force you to work menial jobs for the rest of your life. Make the sacrifice now to make life good for them later.”
I can see Tasha is thinking about it. Eventually her smile falls and she shakes her head. “They’re still my kids, Chenae. I can’t hand them over to just anybody.”
“And you’re not. You’re relinquishing them to their father’s custody for the near future.”
“He’ll fight it.”
“Good. Louisiana will first make him prove he’s not the father, which means his ass will be forced to take the paternity tests he always runs from. So once you prove he fathered all of them, Louisiana will mandate child support from him. You’ll break his ass in child support. Once he gets a look at that number, he’ll do one of two things: he’ll take the kids, thinking it’s cheap, or he’ll pay his support to stay out of jail.”
Tasha looks at me. “You really think this will work?”
I nod. “Let’s go get a GED book.” I stand up and help Tasha off the couch. I lost track of the roach, so I check my purse discreetly after picking it up. I walk into the kitchen and ask Antoine for his keys.
“No fucking way.”
“Why not?”
“That’s my brand new fucking car!”
“And I’ve never had an accident, Antoine. Please? This is for Tasha. We’re gonna go get a GED workbook.”
Antoine looks at me and sighs. “Don’t wreck my shit.”
I laugh. “Pregnant woman on board. I’ll be extra careful.”
We leave and head to Lafayette without incident. Once there we run into the former Mrs. Anjette Fulmer. She’s outside the mall looking like a bag lady.
“Mrs. Fulmer.” I nod my head, smirking. It’s just on this side of respectful. She narrows her eyes and turns her head away from me.
“That Reverend Fulmer’s wife?” Tasha asks in amazement. I nod. “What happened?”
“He divorced her. She insulted Momma one too many times.”
Tasha nods and smirks and we walk into the Books-A-Million in search of a GED workbook. We pay for it and leave, returning to Aunt Rose’s. Antoine is on the porch smoking a cigarette when we return.
“See? Car still in one piece,” I tell him, giving him the keys. He checks the car meticulously before nodding.
“Yeah but still. You riding my car. Gotta stay fresh and clean.”
We head back into the house. The roach is on the wall near the ceiling now. I’m keeping track of him.
Tasha cracks the workbook while I boot up my computer and use my phone’s internet connection to check into the next GED testing date for her. Aunt Rose and Nette watch, disapproval on their faces, as I bookmark the pages to print later and start researching financial aid.
“Who gon’ watch these kids, huh?” Nette says, looking angry.
“They Daddy,” Tasha replies.
“What?”
Tasha tells them my plan and they roll their eyes and frown. “Tasha, that’s a stupid idea,” Aunt Rose says. “He ain’t got no clue how to take care of some kids. Yo’ kids will be half dead if you leave them with him.”
Tasha looks over at me fearfully but I shake my head. “Tasha didn’t know how to take care of kids when she got pregnant. She learned. Well now it’s time for Deion to learn and he has an advantage she didn’t.”
“What’s that?” Aunt Rose asks.
“The kids can talk.”
Antoine and I leave for Momma’s an hour later. I hug Tasha and promise to print off the pages for her to register for the GED.
“Don’t let Nette and your mom beat you down,” I whisper. “Take a page from our side of the family. Make the man be responsible for his kids. Respect yourself enough to get a good job and take care of them.”
Tasha snorts and smiles. “And get some fucking birth control.”
“Please.”
We hug again and I slide into Antoine’s car. I wonder where that roach went.
“So, how you enjoy that time with your cousins?” Antoine asks, smirking.
I tilt the seat back. “Oh my God! I can’t believe Tasha is pregnant again! Damn! You’d think the first four times were enough for her to realize that Deion was no good. And it’s just astonishing to me that Nette and Aunt Rose are absolutely no help! I mean, they’d rather watch Tasha work herself to the bone rather than support her in trying to better herself. I mean, Nette already got three. If she’s sitting on her ass watching her kids, why can’t she watch Tasha’s?”
Antoine is laughing. I look over at him, incensed, and he smiles. “You understand why I took you there?”
“No! And I lost track of that massive roach that was climbing the walls.”
He smirks. “I took you there for a few reasons.” He sobers. “One, because I wanted you to see what your life could have been like without Pierre’s support.”
I look at him and he nods. “Yeah. Think about it. Pierre withdrew his support from Tasha cuz she got knocked up. I remember that nappy-headed busta you was sweet on at the time. Momma was worried you might be silly enough to let it happen to you. Thankfully, you saw what happened to Tasha and, I assume, kept your legs closed.”
My shoulders slump. “Yeah. I was thinking about how it was a shame because Tasha was smarter than me and now she’s just a baby momma.”
Antoine nods. “You had what the rest of our cousins don’t have. Supportive family who love you and are willing to come to your aid. You treat us like shit most of the time, except for Momma and Pierre. You idolize him.” I cringe. “I paid for your rental and haven’t gotten a thank you yet. Barry and David fronted you money to help get you through the semester and you haven’t thanked them, although you did hug Barry. Shocked the shit outta him, so he’s counting that as a thank you. Did you thank Momma for cleaning your apartment so well you got the security deposit back? And you kept the security deposit, which, by rights, is Pierre’s. But if we’d been Pierre, you would have remembered to thank us and you woulda sent a thank you note.”
I dig my handkerchief out of my purse. Pierre’s instructions: Three at all times. You never know.
“Now, I don’t really expect thank yous from you. I know you better. But you should thank Momma, at a minimum. And your sisters and brothers-in-law. They gave up money they didn’t have to to help you.”
“Right.” I swallow hard. “Thank you, Antoine.”
“You’re welcome. Now, second reason I took you there is because Momma told me you havin’ trouble finding a group you willing to work with as a social worker and, even though you condescending as all hell, you are passionate about teen mothers.”
I look at Antoine in surprise. He nods.
“That was a creative solution for Tasha cuz I’ll tell you, if Tamika dropped the boys on me right now, I’d be confused as hell. I wouldn’t know where the fuck to start and I’m betting Deion won’t either. Now, I dropped a bug in Aunt Rose’s ear to support Tasha in that because I think you right. Deion is a shit daddy and, as a man and as them kids’ cousin, that shit pisses me off. He knocked up my cousin and left her ass with all them kids, tryin’ to pretend he ain’t bust that nut.”
I cringe. Sometimes, Antoine’s language leaves me wishing Bobby would truly take him in hand.
“I’m in my boys’ lives. They my future and I hustle like hell for ’em. I’m thinking of taking custody, even though that shit scares me.”
I look at Antoine in shock. “Really? I mean . . . really?”
“Yeah. Tamika can’t teach them to be men. I can and I can show them how to make they way in the world. I can show them all the shit not to do and what life is like when you hustle for what you want. You tell me, can Tamika teach them that?”
“Nope.” I gotta admit, Tamika is hoodrat to the core. “She can show them how to apply for aid.”
We laugh over that. “Right. Plus that man she wit’ now, I hate his ass. I don’t want my boys around him. So yeah, you right. I got the car and the house is next but only because I need a place for my boys to live. I ain’t buying a mansion. Imma be more like Redman.”
He grins and I laugh. I remember seeing Redman’s condo on MTV Cribs. Only major rapper living in a two bedroom townhouse under 2000 square feet and when MTV Cribs showed up, his place was nasty as hell. He grinned and said he didn’t have a maid and he wasn’t there all the time.
“Now Redman?” I nod. “Supposedly worth $19 million and ain’t put out a chart-climber in years.” My mouth drops in shock. Antoine smirks. “Not every rapper is stupid. The smart ones, like Wu-Tang, Redman, Jay, Russell Simmons, they diversify. They get they shit straight just in case gravy train ends. And they live below or at their means. I live well below mine because ain’t nobody lookin for my ass in backwaters Louisiana.”
I’m silent and thinking. OK, I owe Antoine a big apology. He has some financial sense.
“What you think? Bout working with teen moms?”
I think seriously about this. I seriously can’t stand seeing teenage girls get pregnant. You might as well add ten tons of pressure to your life getting knocked up before 20. Life just becomes exponentially harder without a supportive partner and family and most girls don’t have it. Worse? When it’s an epidemic in your family, like ours.
Antoine may have a point. I can feel my blood pressure rising just thinking about it. “I’ll think about it. I mean, the problem is you’re getting them after the mistake’s been made.”
Antoine shrugs. “That may be but that’s the point at which these girls need the most help and someone to help them talk through their options. Now, last reason I took you to Aunt Rose.” I look over and nod. “You need to understand why Pierre made that deal with you girls. Have you ever wondered why Pierre was willing to pay for your schooling?”
“Because . . . because there’s so many baby mommas in our family? Because Momma was a teen mom?”
Antoine snorts. “Yeah, all that is true, but he coulda encouraged y’all without having to come off money. Why was he willing to pay?”
I shrug. “Well, economics tells me people respond to incentives. Money is a hard incentive to beat.”
“Exactly. I might not have taken an econ class but I know you right in that. People will do all kinda shit for money. Now, you probably don’t remember, you had to be about eight at the time, but Wilma had a pregnancy scare.”
I look at Antoine in shock. “Wilma?”
He nods and signals to turn. “Yeah. Same age as Tasha when it happened and Momma was a prayer warrior that history wouldn’t repeat itself. Thelma’s loud-mouthed ass told Pierre and next thing I know Momma’s telling me that Pierre is gonna pay for each of you girls to go to school long as there’s no babies and you keep the grades up.
When the time came, Wilma went to UL Lafayette because of the nursing program and because Momma wanted to keep an eye on her. That’s how the little ‘Pierre scholarship fund’ started. You never thought about why Pierre gave up nearly his entire Army salary to put y’all through school?”
I’m twiddling my fingers and shaking my head. The money was just there. I knew I’d get it when my time came. I never wondered why.
“You unappreciative of the fact that your life has been good because other people made sacrifices to get you where you are. You whining to Momma because yo’ sorority sisters wanna work with the NAACP and you don’t see that the struggle ain’t over. One black president don’t wipe the slate clean when NYC is racially profiling folk on some ‘stop and frisk’ bullshit. But closer to home. You spoiled. I laughed my ass off watching you lecture Tasha and Nette, cuz you don’t realize how hypocritical you sound.”
“What do you mean?”
Antoine starts laughing hard. We pull into the driveway and Momma appears in the doorway. Antoine locks the door and shakes his head at Momma. Momma stands, hands on hips, until Antoine waves at her and shakes his head again. She looks over at me and walks back inside. He turns to me, still laughing.
“Shit, let’s see. My favorite one? ‘Nice to know that my brother’s value is in his wallet. I don’t see you busting your ass to make his money.'” Antoine starts laughing hard. “Damn Chenae! You had no idea how funny that shit was to me!”
“Well, it was true! I couldn’t believe she had the nerve to suggest you should simply hand her money,” I fume. Antoine wipes his eyes, shaking his head.
“Chenae?” I look at him. “What have you done to earn Pierre’s money?”
I look at him, affronted. “We had a deal. I kept the grades up and kept my legs closed and he paid for school.”
He nods. “Yup. Now, what did you do to earn the car, the apartment, the stipend, the rush fees, and all the other shit he was paying for?” He cuts me off. “Pierre’s deal was to pay for tuition.”
“And because he didn’t have to pay tuition, since I earned so many scholarships, he gave me an equivalent amount in living expenses.”
“But he didn’t have to,” Antoine says, sobering. “You achieved so much he didn’t have to pay. But he gave you the equivalent, which allowed you to have a damn good college experience. Did you appreciate that? Did you tell him you appreciated it?” I swallow hard. “My point, Shug, is you blind to your own good fortune. You’ve had a damn good life, better than all us, because we kept you sheltered from the ugly bits. That was wrong of us because it means you ain’t appreciative of a damn thing you’ve received. And now you shittin’ on your future sister-in-law.”
Antoine grasps my chin and forces me to look at him. “Lemme tell you, Shug, even I like the future Mrs. LaPierre. She good for Pierre and if you’d allow yourself to get over the fact that she had to do some desperate shit to keep body and soul together, you’d like her. But as long as you look at her and see a ‘ho, Pierre will look at you and see the spoiled brat he raised. Grow up and honor your brother and his choices.”
Momma is thrilled to see us. David hugs me and takes my suitcase and purse to my usual bedroom while Wilma and Thelma tease me about roaches. I flip them off, hiding my finger from Momma, but it’s a fail. She swats my bottom and everyone laughs.
Pierre and Antoine bump fists then Pierre gently hugs me. I sniff and squeeze my big brother, not that it does a lot of good. He’s three times my size but I feel him smile.
“Hey, Baby Shug,” he says softly, kissing my forehead. “How’s school?”
“Busy. I can’t believe it’s already my last year.” I’m determined not to whine to my brother about my lack of funds. I haven’t spotted Bobby or Les but I don’t want to be overheard sounding ‘superior’.
“I can’t either,” he replies. He lets me go and I see Lula standing there smiling. She’s lost some weight and it shows.
I hate her less now. “Hello, Lula.”
“Chenae.” She smiles and Pierre moves back and slips his hand around her waist. Hello Hallmark? I have a scene for your Mahogany line. “Girl, I need yo’ help. School is killing me!”
I smile. She’s being over the top dramatic and Pierre rolls his eyes. I’m shocked. Pierre knows how to roll his eyes?
“OK. Well, after dinner?”
“Sounds good. I can use some help. I avoided College Algebra as long as I could but I don’t understand this and your brother laughs at me.” She glares at Pierre. “Math ain’t supposed to have letters!”
Pierre’s booming laugh is bouncing off the walls and we’re all smiling. That was Pierre’s grumble too and everyone knows it.
“I’ll be glad to help.”
We sit down to dinner (no Bobby or Lester, thank god) and after, Lula brings her books over to the table and I start walking her through College Algebra. It’s slow going. Lula’s not dumb but she is impatient and excitable. I can see why Pierre was having trouble tutoring her. She makes a big production of everything. We’re finally working our way through the fifth problem when I spot a problem.
That massive roach made its way to Momma’s house.
Where do I spot him? In Lula’s weave.
“Lula?” I grasp her arm. “Don’t move.”
“Why not?” She starts moving and I groan mentally.
“Stop moving!” I hiss.
“Who you yelling at?” Lula says, indignantly. “What the hell is wrong?” She’s swiveling around, trying to spot the problem and the roach is holding on for dear life. I try to swat at him but miss.
Antoine walks into the room and immediately spots the roach. His eyes go wide, wider than I’ve ever seen, and I see him immediately lean against the doorframe and turn red, holding back the laughter. “Pierre!” he calls. “Get in here now! Yo’ Wifey needs some help.”
Pierre appears in an instant, looking confused, with the rest of the family right behind him. I see him look at Lula, spot the roach, and turn red, biting his lip. “Lula!” he booms. She freezes momentarily. “Don’t. Move.”
“Why?”
Antoine’s sunk to the floor, biting his finger. Pierre walks over. “Do not move, Lula.”
“Why not?” She’s still moving.
“Dammit Tallulah! There’s a massive roach in your hair and we’re trying to remove it!” I finally tell her, exasperated.
She freezes in shock. “Please tell me that was a joke.” The moment she stops moving, Pierre moves swiftly and captures the roach in his hands. He runs for the door, Antoine in front of him to open it, and runs outside.
Lula starts screaming. “AHHHHHH! There was a roach in my hair! Why didn’t you tell me? Oh my god, I got roach hair! I gotta get rid of this weave! I can’t wear roach weave!” She’s flailing her arms around and turning around in circles. I’m trying not to laugh but I can’t help it. She’s so damn dramatic.
By now the entire family is in the dining room and laughing their asses off. Momma moves over to Lula, giggling.
“Come on, baby. Let’s wash your hair and set it on some big rollers. You can get yo’ hair redone tomorrow. Thelma?”
“I’m calling Nyeisha now, Momma. Lula, is that Yaki?”
“Remy!” Lula calls, running for the bathroom. I raise an eyebrow. She spent some money on that hair. No wonder she’s so upset. Pierre walks back in with Antoine, both of them red with laughter.
Antoine looks over at me. “I see you found the roach again. Good job.”
I sniff. I’m fumigating everything tomorrow.
