Chapter 7
seven
. . .
Jahsir
T he card party didn’t sit well with me.
I ain’t like the way Venus was moving, and even though she had been playing it cool, I knew it bothered Crimson.
But something else continued to nag at me.
Where was the money I left her? Granted, a nigga wasn’t hurting for money by no means, and Crimson was going to be straight moving forward, but it was the principle.
It was clear Crimson had snakes in her grass, and I would make sure she knew about it.
With no warning, no call ahead, I showed up at Auntie Ruby's house. She wasn’t quick on her feet like Venus was.
I knew the truth about the money would slip out in some way, shape, or form, so I started with her first. When I arrived, she welcomed me with open arms, but I wasn’t there on a social call.
I caught her in the middle of watching Supermarket Sweep.
“How you doing, Ms. Ruby?”
“Oh, I'm really good, now that your handsome tail dun walked in here. It's been a long time. How's your family?”
“Everybody good, no complaints. We are all alive and well.”
“That's good, that's good. Can I make you something to eat?” She asked.
“No, I won’t be here long. I just wanted to grab some of Crimson’s things and talk to you about something.”
“Well, if you want to talk to me about her, you can forget about it.” Ms. Ruby took a seat on her couch and started streaming her show again. She took a pull of her vape and rolled her eyes. “She is disrespectful, and I don’t want her back in this house with her cheap ass.”
Or maybe you're just greedy , I thought.
“Hmm. Well, that's exactly what I want to talk to you about.”
“Figures, I knew she was gonna need me before I needed her.”
“Need? Nah, she’s set. In fact, she doesn’t even know I'm here. This is business. Where is the $15K I left for her?” I asked, and though it may have sounded like a question, it was a statement. I was deliberate with my words.
Her eyes bucked open. I couldn’t tell if she was shocked that I’d brought it up or confused because she was clueless.
It was probably both. Either way, it took her too long to answer, which only pissed me off further.
Swiftly, I removed the remote from the arm of the couch and turned the TV off. That got her attention.
“Boy!”
“Just waiting for answers.”
“15K? I don’t know what you are talking about?” she finally responded.
Leaning in a little, I was careful not to intimidate her.
I mean, the lady practically watched me grow up.
This was my best friend's mother, and the aunt of the love of my life.
I was careful not to do anything that would cause friction in my very important relationships.
But still, somebody had some explaining to do.
“Ms. Ruby, are you telling me Venus didn’t arrange some type of transfer? Four years ago, after I left.”
“Four years is a lifetime ago,” she added, taking another pull of her vape.
“And 15 thousand is a lot of money to not know its whereabouts.”
“Look, Jahsir, you left a mess. My son got locked up, Crimson was depressed, and bills had to be paid.”
“So, you spent it?”
“And Rashad needed money on his books.”
“Again, I ask, did you spend it? Because Rashad had his own bread, he didn’t need anything. And even so, you ain’t have 15k worth of bills.”
“I don’t know anything about 15k. That's all I have to say. Anyway, you said you needed something out of the attic? Be careful. No one has been up there since the water damage.”
Just like that, she brushed me off. Her guilt was loud and clear, and so was Venus’s.
She clearly didn't give Ruby the full 15k, so she held the truth to that part. What killed me was that these people were supposed to have Crimson’s best interests at heart.
Unfortunately, loyalty was a thing of the past, and none of these conniving thieves would have a place in Crimson's future. I was going to make sure of that.
I shrugged as I took the stairs to the attic.
They creaked beneath my feet, instantly making me think of Crimson.
She hated what she called ‘unnecessary noises’.
The faint beep of smoke detectors, ticking of clocks, and even humming of refrigerators stressed her out.
I could only imagine the dread she felt as she trekked up here on a daily basis.
When I reached the top, I pushed the door open.
My eyes surveyed the space as regret washed over me.
I thought about the day we moved her into her townhouse.
She was all smiles, dreams, and plans, and couldn’t wait to decorate.
She created a vision of neutrals and golds, making her home what she called ‘affordable luxury’.
“It's all in the decorations, bae”, she’d say.
Crimson said anybody could fake being rich if they had an eye for decor.
Her first home was a fashion statement and her safe haven.
Now, lay remnants of her old life scattered around an attic apartment and it hurt me to the fuckin core.
It was definitely a downgrade in space and a shift in her personality.
Some of her things were here, but it felt cold.
It was like she refused to settle in because she couldn’t bring herself to do so.
I saw a throw pillow and candles I recognized, but nothing more.
There was baby furniture now covered in mold, but still, nothing quite said Crimson.
Scanning the rest of her space, I finally found a piece of her.
Her mannequin with fabric draped around it.
There were needles still pinned into it.
I observed it, making sure no mold had grown onto it.
Next to it was a pile of books and high-fashion magazines.
Under it was Crimson’s sketchbook. “Bingo.” I found exactly what I was looking for.
Perusing it, I realized Crimson had not drawn anything in at least a year.
Grabbing it, along with the mannequin, I made a mental note to make sure she found her passion again.