Читать книгу A Girl Like Me - Ni-Ni Simone - Страница 11

Track 4

I was always welcome at the Throwbacks, a.k.a the Joneses. Naja’s house. Where the only place time changed was on the outside. True story—Naja’s family were the nicest people on the block, but I always thought somebody, somewhere along the lines, jacked them up. All her dad, who everybody called Nephew (why? I don’t know), said was “Yup-Yup,” “Word up,” and “You gots to chill.” And her mother, Neecy—could you say leg warmers, spandex, tube tops, and two-tone jeans? She was the black version of Cyndi Lauper, the ancient eighties in the flesh.

And her grandmother, Mom-Mom, made everybody call her Delicious, was senile, and told everybody she was a retired stripper. Oh, and she thought everybody on TV was real.

“Ma!” Naja screamed. “Come and get Mom-Mom. She’s screaming at another repeat!”

“They keep doing the same things to me!” Mom-Mom screamed. “Over and over again! I swear to Gawd, I’m ’bout to straight Crip on a fool!” She threw her fingers in the air and started crossing them. For a moment it looked as if her hands were having a seizure. “East side!”

Neecy pushed Naja’s room door open, “Come on, Mom-Mom.”

“My name is Delicious, and I’m a retired stripper.”

“Come on, Delicious,” Neecy said, shaking her head.

Immediately, Mom-Mom dropped down and started getting her eagle on. “Where is a pole when you need one?”

“You’re embarrassing Naja,” Neecy said as she grabbed Mom-Mom’s hand and ushered her out of the room.

“Naja,” I whispered as Neecy closed the door behind them. “Has your grandmother always been like that?”

“Like what?”

“You know, senile.”

“Oh, she’s not senile, she’s from North Carolina. She crazy as hell, but she’s not senile.”

Why did I bother? “Can I use your phone?”

“Yeah,” Naja said as she proceeded to get dressed. I dialed my house and Sydney answered. Mica was screaming in the background. “Syd, what is wrong with him?”

“Aniyah did it. He asked her was there was really a Santa Claus and she told him no, Santa got capped last year. And the next thing I know, he’s all tangled up in that Superman sheet he wears, having a nervous breakdown.”

“Let me speak to him.”

“Mica!” she yelled. “Elite on the phone.”

“Si-si-sistah,” he sniffled as he spoke into the phone. “Santa—Santa—Santa…”

“Mica, it’s October. Why are you worried about Santa?”

“Oh God—oh God—he got shot.”

“He did not!” I said sternly. “Now you stop crying and get yourself together. You’re a big boy.”

“Yeah, Mica,” Aniyah said in the background. “Santa didn’t get shot. He’s in a halfway house.”

“Aniyah! Put Aniyah on this phone!”

“Yeah?” she said, getting on the line.

“You better stop! Now look, Ny’eem should be home any minute. I’ma be home late.”

“Okay. Should we put the extra lock on the door to keep Mommy and Gary out until you come back?”

I looked at the calendar before I answered the question. First of the month. “Mommy won’t be home for a minute, so you’ll be alright. Just remember what I said, and stop teasing Mica.”

“All right,” she snickered. “I will.”

Once I hung up, I proceeded to get dressed in my fitted bebe jeans, champagne colored halter, open toe stilettos, and instead of flat-ironing my hair, I let it drape over my shoulders in an abundance of ocean waves. I was too fly for words. And I decided to heck with the disguise. Jahaad will just have to live with me going to the concert and gettin’ my groove on!

Naja placed her hands on her hips. She rocked a pair of fitted Juicy jeans with a matching rhinestone hoodie, and heels. We pranced out of her room and stopped in the living room.

“Daddy,” she said, “How do we look?”

“Yup-Yup.”

“That means,” her mother chimed in, “that you real fly.”

“And you know this,” Naja smiled. “Okay Ma, we’re going to the concert.”

“You need a ride?” We both looked at her mother in her too small purple spandex leggings, white tube top, and platforms. “Nah, we’re good,” Naja and I said at practically the same time.

“Okay, but if you need a ride, hollah.”

“Bye, Ma!”

“Bye, y’all.”

“Bye, Daddy!”

“You gots to chill,” he smiled.

“Bye, Mom-Mom—”

Mom-Mom screamed, “It’s Delicious!”