Chapter 3
She pulled her eyes open at noon and huffed.
“I’m never going to sleep a full eight hours again, am I?
” she asked, more to herself than anyone else.
There was no one here to answer. No one here to care.
And there wouldn’t be. That was an unfortunate reality.
Especially after almost having everything she swore she wanted.
A loving, proud family. A man who adored her.
Almost a child. That intrusive thought forced her to pull in a bitter breath because anything after that facade of memories would be the hellish reality she was subjected to.
With a huff, she rolled over to the side and looked at the open door of her bedroom.
Unwanted tears fell from her eyes and the blanket of sorrow rested on her.
If only she could sleep all of this away.
There was no sleeping any of this away. Years of her life, gone.
No support system. No friends. Nothing but this old house and all of the old memories that occupied it.
Laying here and crying the day away wouldn’t do her any good so she forced herself out of the bed.
Remedy started gathering all the things she needed to take to the laundromat, a list of groceries she needed to buy, and the reality was MackLem was deadass about her not coming back.
“Fuck,” she blew to herself as she picked up the property tax bill. “I can’t win for losing.”
Continuing to move around the small house, her phone buzzed on the small table where she’d left it hours ago.
Remedy snatched it off of the charger, looked at the name and frowned.
Desi, the bartender from Wild Flame. She was the only girl in the club that had her number.
Mostly because she kept her in the loop with all the side gigs.
From Remedy’s standpoint Desi wanted to be friends but Remedy didn’t trust anyone.
She answered hoping Desi was going to keep the call short and sweet. “Yeah. What’s up Desi?”
“Lem really fired you?” she asked, shock in her voice. “You and Tina bring in the most money. And why the hell were you slapping niggas last night?”
“Why are you in my business?” Remedy asked evenly. “I told you about that.”
“You know, one day you’ll realize you could use a friend,” Desi replied, ignoring Remedy’s tone like she typically did. “You know that nigga you hit was one of the biggest Trae Way Gangstas? Well, until his ass was sent off to the military.”
“I’m assuming you’re going to tell me why I should be concerned about that?” Remedy muttered, stopping at the kitchen window to see him standing in the overgrown yard looking at the condition of the house.
“Because I heard the nigga is a killa and I think you’re too cool to be dead,” Desi stated. “Anyway, what are you going to do?”
Remedy sighed, moving away from the window and leaning her back on the counter. “I really don’t know. I have to do something because sitting around all day ain’t going to cut it. I’ll figure it out like I always do, I guess.”
“Yeah, I hear you. I’ll text you about some gigs worth your while. You heard Trae Way MB is going to do a Waynesville Spring Fest? Ballers and rapper niggas crawling through the city means money for your phat ass,” Desi giggled. “Talk to your pimp about it.”
“Bitch,” Remedy huffed. “He’s not my pimp. He’s my very demented, very lonely neighbor.”
“I’m just playing. Just like I was last night. You’re too smart to be pimped out. Shit, half the bitches in the club are living on their backs and knees and you’re just floating by.”
“That’s what you think? I’m floating by? Not by a long shot,” Remedy replied to Desi.
“Well, I wouldn’t know. You’re like a mystery,” Desi stated.
“And you’re nosey as fuck,” Remedy replied. “I’m not telling you my business so the whole west side can know about it.”
“Me being nosey doesn’t mean I run my mouth,” Desi defended.
“No? So when Tammi danced pregnant for three months, you weren’t whispering about it?” Remedy posed.
“Yeah, to you. You don’t talk to them bitches. My gossip was safe,” Desi spoke with a laugh.
Remedy shook her head. “I hear you, Desi. Look, I got shit to do. Just let me know what’s up with the gigs. I’m going to need something while I’m floating.”
“I got you girl. Oh and Rem, I’m happy you’re not in the club anymore. You were never supposed to be there. Talk to you later.”
A small smile covered Remedy’s lips before she pulled the phone away from her ear and hung up.
Sucking in a deep breath, she went back to what she was doing, busying herself.
At one twenty three, she stuffed her bags of laundry into the trunk of her car before heading toward Ernie’s.
Upon walking into the house, she heard the grumble of the brute from the night before.
“You just walk into people’s houses like you own it?” he grumbled.
She curled her lip and studied him; a low temple fade, silky black hair like his father’s. His skin wasn’t as dark as Ernie’s but smooth, nonetheless. “Oh, look. You’re still here.”
“Where else would I be?” he posed.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Hell.”
“Remedy,” Ernie called. “We’re going?”
“Yeah, after I get your clothes in the car,” Remedy replied, moving toward the bags of laundry she’d bagged up during the week. She felt his presence before spotting the largeness of his size moving her out of the way to grab the bags. “I had it.”
“How long you been doing this?” he posed.
“This?” Remedy asked with fused brows. “Hoeing, letting your father pimp me out, or whatever it was you said last night.”
“Taking care of him,” the man clarified.
“Ever since I noticed he needed someone to help him with things. Like paying the light bill, cleaning up. Eating food that hadn’t rotted.”
“He has money?”
“As his son, shouldn’t you know that? I wouldn’t. He can’t remember where the money is. Whoever he sees when he’s sundowning is taking it. I’ve just been paying the bills so that way I know he has the basics. Anything else you want to know or is your twenty-one questions done?” Remedy snipped.
“What else you doing to keep up with his shit and yours? He might not remember shit but he knows he was a pimp.”
Remedy laughed with irritation and snatched the bags from his hold.
“You got a lot of fuckin’ nerve for a nigga that just popped up.
What have you been doing for him? Huh? When he’s running down the street all hours of night, banging on my window because he’s afraid that someone’s in his house?
Don’t fuckin’ ask me shit about shit. Aight?
If you don’t mind, I promised him a day out. ”
“Erys, why you bothering her? Watch out Remedy, he’s a thief,” Ernie stated, fully dressed in another sequined outfit. A hot pink iridescent suit. Remedy couldn’t even get past the suit to see the scowl on his face. “Muhfucka took my got damn pistol.”
Erys groaned. “Yeah, like almost twenty years ago.”
“Shit you say. I know where I put my shit and you been coming in here fuckin’ with it. You and your momma,” Ernie huffed, clearly irritated by something.
“Ernie, you don’t have a cane for that suit?” Remedy asked, redirecting his focus. “Go get it. I’m putting these in my car.”
“Nah, help me find my damn gun. Give it to that stealing nigga. He wants to be here so fucking bad, make his ass work. He probably needs the community service hours anyway. Hoodlum ass.”
“Says the nigga pimping out my momma.” Erys’ response was a rumble but heard, nonetheless.
Ernie roared. “I ain’t never pimped out Cherie!”
Remedy shot Erys a silencing glare and shoved the weight of the prewashed, bagged clothes into his chest. “You got to learn how to shut the fuck up if you’re going to be dealing with him. Got damn,” she grunted, before walking to Ernie. “Let’s find that cane so we can go.”
“Talkin’ about I pimped out his momma. I pimped a lot of bitches, his momma was never one. Now I got to call her and tell her to stop telling my boy this bullshit,” Ernie fussed loudly, as Remedy directed him down the hall.
“I hear you. Where is your cane? Do you need a hat? I don’t want you to get too hot,” Remedy posed, opening his creaky closet door.
“I don’t want no gotdamn hat. I want his ass out my house before him and his hoodlum ass friends steal something else!” Ernie roared.
It was clear Ernie was still seeing his son as a misguided teenaged boy. And while Remedy didn’t have any good qualities of Erys to direct him to nor did she care to redirect him to other feelings, she knew calming him down would make for a better day. For him, at least.
Remedy gently grabbed his hand and stood in front of him. “I would like to go to the laundromat with you today and then go to the diner. Didn’t you say you wanted the breakfast plate with the biscuits and gravy?”
The goal, since she’d taken on this role as his official unofficial caregiver, was to calm and redirect him. While she spoke, she was checking his blood pressure. The more she rolled out their day, the calmer he became.
“Yeah, where we going after that? Back to the club?” he posed.
Remedy flashed him a faint smile. “You enjoyed yourself?”
“Yeah, I felt like I was a young cat again. They don’t make asses like they used to though,” Ernie stated, making Remedy laugh softly.
“Those are called BBLs, Ernie,” she shared, releasing his hand and arm and grabbing his hat. “And before you ask, no I don’t have one.”
Ernie snickered. “Remember I knew May. I knew May well.”
Remedy frowned, the thought of her late-grandmother and Ernie together threatened to turn her stomach. “Okay, that’s enough.”
“Can you make those smothered pork chops like May?”
Remedy barely nodded. “And her greens, and macaroni and cheese. I’m sure if I try, I can remember how to make her biscuits too.”
“Now how the hell can you make all of that and don’t have no men knocking down your door?” Ernie posed, taking his hat from her hand and placing it atop his head.
“You keep shooting guns and running them all off,” Remedy joked. “You ready?”