Holidaze Read online

  “You can have the couch. I’ll sleep in my mom’s room,” I say, throwing the pillows and blankets from the small couch at him. “And you don’t need to wake me when you leave in the morning. I’m sure you can see your way out.” I look over my shoulder at Rahima sleeping quietly. She’s not having a nightmare anymore, and for that I’m grateful. I can’t help but feel guilty about her feeling my negative psychic energy, not to mention leaving her in the apartment alone. He doesn’t need to know about that part, either.

  Passing up a shocked Rah, I go into the kitchen and swallow the remaining drops of my mom’s sleep tea. I hope I have better luck sleeping soundly than I did earlier. I walk back into the living room and Rah’s stretched himself out on the floor next to his daughter. I guess he’s too tall to sleep on the same couch that fits me perfectly.

  “Jayd, I think you’re being unreasonable, but I still love you and appreciate you watching my girl for me.” He reaches his hand up and pulls me down next to him before I can protest. Rah looks me in the eyes and comes closer for the kiss that’ll never happen.

  “Look, I’m not going to be one of your side chicks anymore. You can have Destiny and Fate and whatever other project twins you want to have with someone else. I’m out,” I say, pulling myself back up. I wish I could get louder, but it’s late and I don’t want to wake Rahima up. I know my neighbors have been listening the whole time. They can’t resist a juicy fight.

  “Project twins? Jayd, what the hell are you talking about?” Rah asks, looking as confused as I feel. Rahima’s image is shifting between the two-year-old toddler sleeping on the blanket, to a slighter older Rahima like the image in my last dream. Rah himself is also shifting between the one I know and love, to the baby daddy he was in my dream. Crazy isn’t a good look for me.

  “I’m talking about your tendencies, Rah. And one of them happens to be taking my love for you for granted. Another one is recruiting ghetto girls as your baby mamas and I’m not going out like that.” I look past Rah and catch my reflection in the mirror hanging on the dining room wall. I look like the tired, scared bride in my dream, white veil and all. My head is throbbing and I can’t get a grasp on reality. I’ve got to get some sleep.

  “Jayd, come on,” Rah says, reaching for my arm, but I back away before he can make contact.

  “Come on where? We have no place else to go. Good night, Rah.” I’m so sick of playing games with him. It wouldn’t be so bad if he could just be honest about his shit, but who am I to talk? He doesn’t know about Jeremy and me hanging out as much as we do, but his shit is different. It’s like Rah and I are addicted to each other and the drama that comes along with the craving. How do I rid myself of this shit, for real? There’s got to be a way to reverse our bad luck in love, and we need to do it before the entire friendship is poisoned as a result of our bad decisions. Maybe the morning will bring some clarity to the situation.

  When I wake up the house is completely silent. I peel the plush red comforter back and instinctively reach for my robe at the foot of the queen-sized bed. Living in a house full of men Monday through Friday has taught me to always be ready to cover up. There’s nothing like running to the bathroom in the middle of the night without a robe on and being caught by Mama, who would promptly smack me for not covering myself. That’s one of the main reasons I’m grateful to have my mom’s ladies-only apartment to escape to on the weekends.

  My mom’s bed is comfortable and warm, but I can only sleep in her room when there’s someone sleeping in the living room. Otherwise I feel much more secure sleeping in the front of the apartment, just in case someone tries to break in. I could hear a perpetrator at first contact, allowing me more time to call the police or get the hell out if need be. I swing my feet out of the bed, staring back at myself in the mirror hanging on the back of the closet door. I look like a truck hit me, but I did sleep hard. Maybe sleeping in a comfortable, spacious bed made the difference. I should sleep in here more often.

  As I make my way from the bedroom into the living room I see that Rah and Rahima are nowhere to be found. The pounding in my head has subsided slightly, allowing me to feel some of the benefits of a good night’s rest. I guess he took me seriously when I told him not to wake me and I appreciate Rah finally honoring one of my requests.

  There’s breakfast with a note attached waiting for me on the dining room table. Wow, free breakfast two mornings in a row. So this is how it feels to be treated well. Let’s see what this fool has to say about leaving me and his daughter alone at night without him, when I’m not feeling well and he should’ve been home hours before. If that nightmare in motion I had last night was a glimpse of being his wife, I’ll have no part of it.

  “Hey, baby. I know you haven’t been feeling well because of your personal sleep issues and whatnot. I love you, I’m here for you, and I can take whatever you throw at a nigga, so bring it on. Love, your boy. P.S. Rahima says bye-bye.”

  In some other world with some other girl Rah’s almost-sweet understanding might fly, but not here. He might as well have said that it’s my time of the month and he excuses my irrational behavior. This fool must be close friends of Tattoo’s because Rah’s straight up living on Fantasy Island if he thinks I’m to blame for this one.

  “Miss Independent,” Ne-Yo sings, announcing my first call of the morning, and surprisingly it’s not from Rah or Jeremy. Instead it’s Mickey. What the hell does she want this early in the morning?

  “Hello,” I say groggily into the phone. The only thing about taking my mom’s concoction is that it leaves me with what I imagine a hangover feels like. I take a seat at the table and open the McDonald’s bag, taking out the hash browns to nibble on first. I’ll tear into the Egg McMuffin as soon as I get Mickey off the phone.

  “What’s up, Jayd? What are you doing today?” Mickey asks, like I haven’t been pissed at her for the past couple of days and she knows it. The nerve of some people, I swear.

  “Schoolwork and other stuff. Why?” I can’t help but entertain her. I’m curious to see where this conversation is going. I finish the greasy potatoes and take out the warm sandwich and check for meat; there is none. I know Rah wouldn’t forget to order it the way I like it, but sometimes this hood’s McDonald’s neglects to get the order right. I also notice a smaller bag inside with a donut for me. Rah must’ve felt really bad to make two stops for my breakfast. Good, because he has a lot of groveling to do.

  “Well, I know Nigel’s parents are away at a church conference this weekend and that he’s home all alone. So, I was wondering if you wanted to go over there and kick it.”

  “Mickey, why would you need to call me to go over your man’s house? That makes absolutely no sense at all,” I say, snacking on my Krispy Kreme donut. Is Rah trying to fatten a sistah up, or what?

  “Jayd, look, I know you’re still mad at me or whatever, and so is Nigel. I need some backup, and you’re all I’ve got, so please get over it. My baby will be here before we know it and I don’t have time for this shit.” In Mickey’s twisted world that was an apology, and as her friend I’m inclined to accept it, no matter how sorry it is.

  “Fine, Mickey. But how do you know he wants you over there if he’s still mad at you?” I’m trying not to smack but I’m hungry, and I can’t stand cold fast food unless it’s pizza. My mom never got into the whole microwave thing, and neither did Mama. We have toaster ovens around here, and I’m not about to go through all of that to eat this morning. I’m hungry now.

  “I talked to him last night and he told me I could come by if I wanted to.” Mickey’s living on the same mystical island as Rah does, a place where you can screw up other people’s lives without permanent repercussions. And as friends we’re just supposed to ignore their foul behavior. They both need to wake up and smell the funk they’ve created.

  “So he didn’t ask you to drop by?” I can see this girl’s not going to let me out of this conversation quick enough, so she’ll just have to deal with me eating in her ear
. I put my cell on speaker and dig into the rest of my breakfast.

  “No, he didn’t, but he gave me the green light and that means go. I just don’t want to roll over there without a buffer, so finish your food, get up, and get dressed. I’ll meet you over there at noon, Jayd. Bye.” Damn. No thank you or nothing. Mickey’s so demanding and full of herself: a lethal combination for any person to be made up of. I’d better call Rah so he can give his boy a heads-up on our itinerary and to say thank you for the morning treat.

  I wipe my greasy hands on a napkin, take a sip from the miniature carton of orange juice and pick up my cell, ready to dial. The picture of Rahima and me is still my wallpaper. I smile every time I see it. Why does her daddy have to be such a jackass sometimes?

  “What up?” Rah asks, like he was expecting my call. I can hear Rahima playing in the background. I miss her already.

  “Thank you for the breakfast,” I say, taking the last bite of my food before finishing the juice. I’m stuffed. That meal should last me until dinnertime. Hopefully when I get back to Mama’s later she’ll have something good cooking. “Y’all left awfully early,” I say, glancing at the clock on the wall. It’s barely nine and I know he doesn’t like to wake up before noon, baby or not.

  “Oh yeah, Rahima ran out of diapers and she wasn’t smelling too good when she got up, so we had to roll out real quick. But I came back and dropped you off something sweet just to say thank you for watching baby girl yesterday, and to say I’m sorry for staying out so late.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I say, not fully accepting his apology, but I’m getting there. I gather my trash and walk over to the kitchen to throw it away. I have to clean the house before I leave today. I also need to get in this head of mine and hook myself up. That’s the only thing about doing hair for a living: my own do becomes less of a priority, and that has to end.

  “For real though, Jayd, I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you because I’m not. I would never risk messing up what we’ve got again, ever.” I want to believe him, but actions speak louder than words. And right now, I can’t read anyone’s actions clearly. I’m still not over the fact that I sleepwalked again last night and left his baby alone up here. And then the image stayed with me until I woke up this morning. I feel better, but not completely. I know Mama will want to hear all about this recent experience. I just hope she doesn’t revoke my freedom to do hair for too long. I need to make money like anyone else, sleep or not.

  “I got you, Rah,” I say unconvincingly. I want him to sweat this time around. “So what are y’all up to today?”

  “Well, little miss here is going to spend the day with my grandparents. They are missing her like crazy and I was going to go hang with my boy for a min. Why? What’s up with you today?”

  “Apparently I’m going over Nigel’s house too, with Mickey later on, or so I’ve been told.” Rah’s silence through the phone speaks volumes, but I don’t know exactly what it’s saying.

  “Really? Does Nigel know?” Rah asks. I had the same concern, but Rah’s tone is a little more suspicious than I’d like to hear. What’s he hiding? It better not have anything to do with Trish, or I’m going to hang up right in his trifling face.

  “Really. Is there a reason we shouldn’t go?” Rah takes a deep breath and pauses before answering. Now I know he’s keeping something on the low, and as a part of their unspoken boy’s code, I know better than to expect him to give me a straight answer.

  “Nah, not that I can think of. But I should call him and give him a heads-up, just in case.”

  “Just in case what? I know Nigel’s not creeping on Mickey, is he?” Rah’s silent again before responding and that’s not a good sign. Mickey’s the one used to doing the creeping, not the other way around. I know this isn’t going to sit well with her at all. She’s already feeling insecure about her and Nigel’s relationship. If she can’t come over, and I’m the one to warn her about it, it’ll send her into a whole other realm of miscommunication that I don’t have the time or energy to be a part of.

  “That’s my other line, Jayd. I’ve got to take this call.” Speaking of creeping, I know that was probably one of his broads now. “But for real, don’t go over Nigel’s until I call you back. In a minute,” he says, clicking over. I hang up the phone, not knowing what to do. Should I text Mickey, or call her and break the news? Whichever way it goes I’m going to have to hear her mouth, and I’m not up for it this morning. I’ll just wait for Rah to get back at me before making a move. In the meantime I can shower and wash my hair. A little me time is definitely in order.

  By the time I get out of the shower with the conditioner still setting in my wet hair, I have three text messages from Mickey and one voice mail from Rah. Mickey’s worried about what to wear and whether or not she should bring Nigel something to eat. I’ll have to hit her back after I listen to Rah’s message. I wouldn’t want her to go out of her way for nothing.

  After listening to the voice mail, I have to figure out how to break the news to Mickey that now’s not a good time to visit Nigel. According to Rah, Nigel’s parents are back from their retreat and Mickey knows she’s not welcome when they’re home. At least I won’t have to rush now. I can take my time and do my nails, too, before going back to Compton. I’ve been working so much I’ve forgotten how good it feels to pamper myself.

  I scroll down my contact list and push Mickey’s name and the send button. The conditioner is dripping down the sides of my face so I can’t stay on the phone too long.

  “Hey, Jayd. Did you get my messages? I don’t know if I should wear something bright and cheery or flashy and sexy. What do you think?”

  “I think you should wear something warm and comfortable because you’re staying home today, girl.” I use the towel around my neck to wipe away the dripping conditioner. I love the smell of Pantene almost as much as I love Herbal Essence, both of which Mama would have a fit if she knew I was using instead of her and Netta’s products. I ran out about a week ago and forgot to restock my personal inventory. But I’ll have to remember to hook myself up this week when I go to work. I also need to stock up on my own line of braid products too, so I can get back to my hustle.

  “Very funny, Jayd, but I’m serious.”

  “So am I, Mickey. According to Rah, Nigel’s parents came home early.” I glance at the clock, timing my conditioner. If I leave it on for too long my hair will become limp and hard to curl after I flat-iron it, so I only have a small window of time to hear Mickey bitch about her and Nigel, for real. The lavender essential oil I added to the conditioner is also making me feel too relaxed to listen to her talk for much longer.

  “That’s bull, Jayd, and you and I both know it. Nigel told me they weren’t coming back until late tonight.”

  “People change plans, Mickey.” Another minute has gone by and I can feel my hair losing body as we speak. I’ve got to wrap up this conversation right now.

  “The hell they do. He’s still avoiding me and I don’t know what to do about it.”

  “Mickey, I would love to help you, but I’ve got to go now. I’ll call you back later, okay? And don’t worry about Nigel. I’m sure everything’s okay,” I say, lying to my friend. Truth be told, I didn’t buy Rah’s explanation either. I’ll grill him more about it later. He said he’s going to drop by on his way back from his grandparents’ house this afternoon.

  “Whatever, Jayd. Bye,” Mickey says, abruptly hanging up. Whatever is right. I’m so sick of her rude behavior. And I’ve had it with my friends’ drama and them involving me in it. Even when I try to help they’re unappreciative of my effort, which really irritates the hell out of me. I’ve got enough of my own shit to deal with. Hopefully by the time I’m finished with my hair and nails I’ll feel better about it all. I’m going to study my spirit book too and look for something to help me out of this mess before I lose myself in it.

  It’s early afternoon and I’m really enjoying the day alone. Rah should be here any moment t
o steal my solitude, but I feel stronger than I have in days. I thumb through my mom’s old spirit notebook, but it’s no help. The spirit book has only limited accounts of sleepwalking, which seems to be unique to my path of our collective ancestry. My powers lie in my dreams rather than in my eyes, like my predecessors’ visions. Our visions are equally powerful, just different for me. Before I can go any deeper into my studies, Rah knocks on the door, disturbing my peace.

  “Hey,” I say, opening the front door and letting him in.

  “What’s up with you?” Rah asks, kissing me on the cheek before sitting down on the couch. “Your hair smells good.” I reclaim my spot next to him, ready to grill him about what’s going on with Nigel. We’ll get back to our own issues in a minute.

  “Thank you,” I say, running my hands over the smooth ponytail I just put my freshly pressed hair in. I’ll cornrow it later this week. “So what’s up with your boy not wanting to kick it with Mickey today?” Compliments won’t charm his way out of being interrogated.

  “It’s complicated, Jayd. But we need to give Nigel some space right now. He’s been through a lot in the past few weeks and is still processing it all.”

  “I know he is,” I say, recalling the drama with him and Mickey getting busted for ditching at school, the shooting, and everything else in between. I bet part of him wishes he’d stayed at Westingle instead of transferring to South Bay High. We don’t call it Drama High for nothing, that’s for sure.

  “We’ve always had bad holidays, especially this past Christmas.” Rah’s right. The expectations are always set so high at Christmas and on Valentine’s Day that there’s no possible way we could ever meet them. There’s a reason why these two holidays are also the loneliest times of year for millions of people. Every time Rah and I try to have good celebrations they end up ruined somehow. If I could change that fact I would. But there’s no going back in time.

  “Or is there,” my mom chimes in. She’s supposed to be enjoying an all-inclusive spa day with her boo, but I guess she still has time to butt into my business.