Loyal to His Lies Page 4

  Scrolling through all the likes and comments underneath the selfies I’d posted to Facebook earlier, I then uploaded one of the pictures I’d snuck and snapped of Nardo laid out on my couch, snoring. The cryptic caption I typed was for my lurkers and his hoes. It read: Daddy duty wears him out. If any of them were smarter than a bag of rocks, they would put two and two together and notice Cidney was nowhere in the picture.

  * * *

  I would’ve walked out the acetone-smelling nail shop had my hommeter not owned it. There were young girls in every chair and even a couple that were lapped up. It seemed like everyone from the hood was trying to get their nail designs slayed by Kimmie, and I couldn’t blame them. Hands down, she was the baddest nail tech in the metro-Detroit area. She had her own style, flair, and lane in the game. She even had the young black girls that were killing the nail game on their toes, and she stole their loyal customers from time to time. Though an overflowing shop was good for Kimmie’s business, it wasn’t good for my time. I wouldn’t wait on a normal day, and definitely not with Nardo at home pitching a fit about having to keep his own child.

  “Hey, Sue.” I greeted Kimmie’s cousin. Sue didn’t do nails. She did lashes, eyebrows, and bikini waxes. I’d gotten her to do my lashes once or twice, but I wasn’t about to take my panties off in this muthafucka. “Where’s my homegirl at?” I asked her loudly, not because English wasn’t her first language, but because I wanted everyone to know that me and Kimmie were cool.

  “Her had to take phone call. She in back but be out in minute.”

  I was glad it wasn’t hard to decipher what she’d said. Some of Kimmie’s family couldn’t put two syllables together without it still sounding like Korean gibberish.

  “Oh, okay. Well, I’ll wait right here.” Instead of penning my name down on the sign-in sheet, I leaned onto the counter and boldly looked around the room like I owned the place. I then tipped my foot up so my red sole would show to all the eyes that were locked in on me. The simple move spoke volumes, and I never had a problem with being petty.

  It didn’t take long for Kimmie to come from the back. I had to stop myself from laughing because I’d never seen a foreigner like Kimmie—and I’m not trying to be funny. She swore she was an African American bombshell stuck in a Korean body. She had on a pair of too-tight denim jeans, a crop top, a pair of red bottom Louboutin sneakers, and her fly-away hair was French braided to the back in six corn rows. I’d never seen her dressed up like her ancestry, even with her people owning beauty supply stores and having the direct connection to all the bootleg shit that’s shipped in from overseas, and I’d been rocking with Kimmie for years. She was always put together better than most of the chicks I grew up with.

  “Hey, Kimmie-boo. Did you miss me?”

  “Um, nope. Not as much as I missed me godbaby. Where Seed-knee at?” She was trying to say Cidney, but it sounded more like seed and knee put together.

  “At home with her daddy.” I said it like Nardo was happy about it. “And I sho’ can’t tell that you miss her. You ain’t been over to see her since I came home from the hospital.” I rolled my neck.

  “You see dis shop. Me be so tired after I close that I would sleep here if me wouldn’t get robbed.” She always joked about a hood nigga running up on her, but she wouldn’t be laughing if it were to happen for real.

  “Blah, blah, blah. Save the excuses, Kimmie. Just put me in a chair and whip me up real quick so I can get back home. All I need is a pedicure and a manicure.”

  She twisted her face up at my request. “A manicure? Since when you don’t get long nail? You know me can’t put no boring manicure on flyer. Me need fly, flashy, funky nail.”

  “I know, I know. And I’ve got you once I get the hang of changing diapers. But for now, I’ve gotta keep it short and simple so I don’t scratch her all up. I had to pop my whole set off in the hospital and was mad about it.” I remembered my nailbeds aching.

  “Ohhh, okay. Me understand. For Seed-knee, I get it. You gotta take care of baby right way. But have seat and I’ll do you next. Give me fifteen minutes, ’kay?” She pointed her nail brush at me, seeing my irritation growing with each word that she said.

  I hated not getting my way, especially since I wasn’t trying to go sit in the lame section with the girls I’d just thrown shade at. I put my hand to my forehead and started rubbing my temples. I was being a real brat.

  “If you’re longer than fifteen minutes, I’m gonna make you do a house visit, plus make you bring along some egg rolls.” I finally took a seat in one of the few aluminum folding chairs that were available.

  “Behave, Z-gurl. You so crazy.” She laughed. “Fifteen minutes.” She then went to work on her client.

  At the end of the day, I couldn’t block Kimmie’s money, especially since she was taking a risk in having a client walk out because I was clearly walking in and over someone who’d already been waiting. There was a Korean-owned and run nail shop on almost every corner in the hood, and for sure in every newly built plaza. When it came to getting money, Kimmie and her other Korean friends didn’t care what risks they had to take. Although the west side of Detroit was known as the best side, it was still full of thugs and savages. Any one of these women could’ve raised up on Kimmie if they wanted to.

  I listened to Kimmie rap to the Jay-Z song that was playing through the radio as she whipped some cold-ass nail art onto the perfectly laid acrylic. I couldn’t wait to get in her seat. My nailbeds and cuticles were starving for her attention.

  Kim Lee Won had been hooking my nails up since me and Nardo had been kicking it, and through all our many breakups. I kept her around for the gossip and for whatever information she could give me on him. More gossip came through her door than strip clubs and beauty salons combined. People never suspected a gang of Koreans would run back and repeat their stories when they came in gossiping, but Kimmie could translate everything her people couldn’t run back in perfect English. Kimmie was my ratchet tale encyclopedia.

  The overhead chimes rang, signaling that the door had opened, and distracted me from checking Kimmie. I looked up to see who was coming through it to a semi-familiar face, and my eyes ended up getting locked in on her. I hate when females stare, but I couldn’t stop. There was something about her. She didn’t have the same aura as the rest of us girls from the hood who were sitting in the waiting area, even with the tacky red- and cognac-colored braids that were in her head.

  Hmm, well, damn. I wonder what nigga is her sponsor, I thought to myself as I sized her up. Even though she didn’t know how to put her expensive pieces together, everything she was dressed in was name brand. She had on Prada shades, some Gucci sandals that I wouldn’t have been caught dead in because of the large sole, and she was carrying a Chanel bag that was worth more than my mortgage and bill money for the month.

  “Excuse me. How long of a wait is it for a full-service treatment?” The woman’s thick Jamaican accent took me by surprise.

  Rude as she could be, Kimmie slammed the clear coat of nail polish onto the nail table and scooted her chair over to the counter. “You see it’s packed in here, honey, so it’ll be at least an hour before you can start soaking your feet.” Kimmie then slid back to her customer without waiting to see if the mystery lady would respond. I had to bite the insides of my cheeks to keep from laughing. Kimmie’s ego could be a bit much to digest if you weren’t cool with her. She never acted pressed for someone’s business.

  The mystery lady wasn’t moved by Kimmie’s obnoxiousness. She snickered, pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head, then started looking for an empty seat. I don’t know if my pregnancy hormones were still in full swing, but my stomach started churning once she plopped down next to me. Her perfume reeked like she’d drenched herself in multiple brands just like her clothes.

  “Hi, how are you doing?” There was a hint of mockery in her voice, like she’d picked up on my vibe.

  “Huh? Excuse me? Are you talking to me?” I rose my eyeb
rows at her, completely caught off guard. Friendliness is not something you find in the hood.

  “Um, yeah. I didn’t mean no harm by it. I was just speaking since I’d sat right next to you,” she casually responded then ran her fingers through her tacky braids.

  “Oh, okay.” I didn’t greet her back but continued to give her the dumb look. For some reason, her vibes weren’t sitting right with my instincts.

  “A’ight, brat, you come now.” Kimmie waved me to the pedicure chair and started filling up the bowl. “You lucky me love you, ’cause if me didn’t, I wouldn’t put you in front of no customer. Me love slaying you nails, but me hate taming yo’ big ol’ elephant feet.” She put me on blast, making both her family and the other clients laugh.

  “Ha-ha-ha, Kimmie. I see you’re laughing, but I’m not. Don’t make me accidentally kick you with my big elephant foot while I’m getting it tamed either. I’m not here for the jokes.” I got up in the massage chair and dipped my feet into the warm water. “Unh-uh! You better make this water hotter, heifer. Please focus on doing your job and do it right.” I purposely complained so she’d remember who was servicing who.

  “Ohhh! You acting up today, Z-gurl.” She was overly animated. “Come on and put you graceful foot up here so I can get to work.” She slid her face mask up and started filing away.

  I wonder if Cidney is driving her daddy up a wall. That’s what his ass gets. If he came around more often, he would know how to deal with his daughter. Oh, well, I thought as she started removing my worn polish.

  “So, hey, home girl, me been missing you ass down here. The baby have you super busy, huh?” She laughed.

  “Yeah, something like that. Sometimes she be crying for no damn reason at all, but I guess that’s what a newborn does.” I got irritated thinking about all the broken sleeps and restless nights I’d had since giving birth, then even more annoyed when I thought about how many peaceful sleeps Renard had gotten since Cidney had made her arrival.

  “Aww, Z, dang. That why me don’t have no baby yet. Me need me beauty rest. So how Nardo with Seed-knee? He acting like daddy supposed to act?”

  I tried not taking her question for shade.

  I licked my lips and braced myself to tell a stream of lies. Cool or not, I wouldn’t dare tell her the truth about how dismissive and disrespectful he’d been acting. “I can’t complain. He’s been taking care of business and holding me down. Cidney loves her daddy so much that she disses me when he comes over.” It felt good to fluff the truth and exaggerate.

  “Hmm, okay. If you say so.” She blew my last words off then moved on to some juicer tea. “So, have you bump heads with Miss Mel lately?”

  The mere mention of my boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend irked me. “Nope, but I wouldn’t mind if I did. She had a lot to say when I was pregnant and couldn’t throw these hands, so I’d like to see if she’s as cocky now that I’m back on my A-game,” I said, referencing my body’s bounce-back.

  “You need not fight over man, because that be stupid. I say both of you mend friendship and kick Nardo dumb ass.” Kimmie rolled her eyes and waved her file at me in a circular motion. “Him foul like old fish in river.”

  I wanted to laugh at her analogy, but she was out of line, and I couldn’t tolerate the outright blatant disrespect. Good, bad, or indifferent, Nardo was still my daughter’s father. “Yo, Kimmie, chill out. That’s still my baby daddy.” I chin-checked her ass quick, fast, and in a hurry. “You don’t hear me commenting about Chin’s tight pants and too-little flip flops.” I might’ve been bold, but she needed to see how it felt for me to talk so rude and reckless. Giving her back the eye roll she’d just dished out, I was ready to hedge a word war, because no one could come between me and my baby’s dad.

  She caught my drift but then raised her brow, seeming to be caught off guard. “Dang, Z-gurl. Me sorry, but why you get so sensitive now? We always kick it.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe my hormones are all over the place. Either way, play it easy about my boo. He might not be the best nigga this city has to offer, but he’s my family now.”

  “Fuck it! I can’t take it anymore!” The Jamaican lady’s random outburst silenced the room and drew everyone’s attention her way, though her focus was set only on me. We were stating one another directly in the eyes. I knew there was something about her that I didn’t like. I just didn’t know the actual reason would be so bad.

  “Hey, lady, you not disturb me shop. You get out and go.” Kimmie snatched her mask off, stood up, and aggressively pointed at the door.

  I’d seen all her movements out of my peripheral vision because I never took my eyes off the chick who’d called me out. “Whatchu want with me? You got a problem?” I cut over Kimmie, not wanting the girl to leave or address Kimmie before I got to find out what her beef was.

  She rolled her eyes. “No, no, no. You’re the one with the problem. I’ve been listening to your delusional ass make up stories since I got in here, and I’ve had it enough. You need to be real with yourself and everyone in here, honey. Renard is not your family anymore, and he never really was if you ask him how the story started and unfolded.”

  I cringed at hearing her call Nardo by his government name. If looks could kill, she would’ve dropped dead on the scene. I ain’t bullshittin’. But since they couldn’t, I had to do it with my bare hands.

  “Don’t move, bitch. I’m about to beat the weight off yo’ bulky-shaped ass.”

  “No, Z! No fight in me shop.” Kimmie was trying to hold me down by my ankles.

  “Wow, you’re such a feisty little rat. No wonder Renard doesn’t want you,” she hissed. “Maybe you should consider stepping your game up, because that baby you be calling about all day and night will not get him back. Maybe get some braids or something like that!”

  The brazen ho had taken me to the limits. Fuck respecting Kimmie and her hood-zoned shop. It was on, and I was boiling with hate. “Kiss my ass!” I screamed loudly as I leaped in her direction, grabbing her by the throat. My hands were shaking as I gripped her neck as tightly as I could in an effort to snap her head off her body. I tried ramming her headfirst into the wall, but truth be told, the island bitch had a little strength to go with her slick mouth.

  “No, no, no!” Kimmie kept excitedly shouting. “You two not fight in here! Break it up! Break it up right now!”

  Kimmie was shrieking at the top of her lungs, but I blocked all of that out as me and my nemesis fell to the ground. I was on a mission to demolish this mystery homewrecking floozy by taking out her moderately cute face.

  Reaching up, she tried to pry my now-strained hands from the grip around her neck, but my fury was too strong and my strength too much for my island competition. I was trying to strangle the breath out of her lungs. Finally getting some wits, she smacked me in the face.

  “Get off of me.” She barely got her words out because I was cutting off her oxygen.

  I knew she had more bombs to drop but couldn’t catch the air she needed to say them. I was now the predator, and she was the prey. Guess it doesn’t pay off to run your mouth in the long run. I became more infuriated because her little bitch slap made my left cheek sting and burn.

  “Bitches smack. True muthafuckas try bodying bitches.” I sent a punch into her face and blew her mouth out. Blood squirted from her busted lips, which made me want to send my fist into each one of her eyes and black those muthafuckas too. That would be what she deserved for side-eyeing me so cockily earlier. Homegirl was no contest to me since I was used to boxing bitches out on Linwood Avenue on my way home from Central High. It was nothing to me and mine when it came to putting uppity-acting bitches like her in their place.

  “You two not fight in here! Break it up now. You two not fight in here.” Kimmie kept shouting, begging us to stop tearing up her property. “Get off her, Z. Day-um. She not worth it, Z. Nardo gonna have you fight a million girls. Stop this and get up.” Kimmie had no idea she was gonna catch a hot one in her jaw if she didn’t
get her damn hands off of me. In my world, you’re either with me or against me.

  “Back the hell up, Kim.” I threw my hand back to push Kim back from me and ol’ girl’s space, then used the same hand to snatch a bunch of braids out of the woman’s head. I was a savage with it. “Talk now, homewrecker. I’m a gold-digging what?” I repeated, taunting the now helpless woman. “Where’s all that mouth at now?”

  “Get up, honey. Not in shop, please. You tear my shit up, you pay.” Kimmie and her workers managed to separate us two. Must’ve been an act of God.

  I didn’t care about Kimmie’s damn shop. I was hot like boiling water. Nobody fronted me off, period. “Keep talking. Please, keep talking,” I insistently begged the girl. “Don’t bitch up now.”

  “Oh, you’ve heard enough,” she sarcastically whispered as she got up off the floor, holding her neck. “Your eyes need to do some watching.” She wanted round two; yes, it was clear. It would be my pleasure, I thought, revving up to pounce back on her.

  “Bitch, next time I see you, it won’t be nothing friendly.” I mocked her Jamaican accent as I victoriously waved a handful of braids that I’d ripped out by the roots.

  “You may have won the battle, but the man will be mine,” she promised before rushing out the door.

  I tried going after her for my round two, but Kimmie and her Korean crew had me held back against the wall.

  These little short, stocky muthafuckas really do have some muscle.

  “Are you a’ight, Z?” Kimmie asked as she released me and her squad backed off, scattering like tiny work ants to get back to their wide-eyed customers.

  “Yeah, that chick was nothing, and I’m waiting to see that ass again.” Knowing I’d put on a helluva show for real, I wanted the word to spread like wildfire in the hood that Nardo’s baby momma was not the one to be tested. “Let it be known that anyone fucking my man will be on the chopping block to be dealt with. You already know, stomped the fuck out.” Feeling my ego, I was talking mad shit and waiting for the next brave soul to try me.