“Called? You mean to tell me you’re still letting his sorry ass call you collect from Lorton?”
Janessa rolled her eyes. “He only calls about once a week,” she said, clucking her tongue. “It’s not like he calls every day. Besides, I miss him, and I’m the only sunshine he has to brighten up his dreary situation. I bring him hope. He told me so himself.”
“Sis, you have issues, but I love you just the same. Howard probably calls a different sistah collect every day of the week begging for something. Haven’t you ever seen those women on talk shows who make a bunch of sacrifices for brothas who are locked up, only to get dumped with a quickness the second they get released?”
“Yeah, but you’re overlooking one vital element.”
“What element?”
“All those women on talk shows are old, white and lonely. They want a young stud, black or white, so bad that they are willing to make a fool of themselves like that.”
“Hmph, if you say so. Let me ask you one more thing. Does Howard always call you on the same day of the week? If so, that’s a dead giveaway. Maybe you are Miss Monday or Miss Tuesday or whatever.”
“Shaddup, Tempest!” Janessa was boiling mad, mostly because Tempest was making sense. Now that she thought about it, Howard did always call on Thursdays. He always called between eight and nine at night, when the Wayans Brothers or The Jamie Foxx Show was on. Was she really Miss Thursday?
“I just hope you aren’t giving him any of your hard-earned money?” Tempest interrupted Janessa’s thought process.
“Of course not!” Janessa snapped, feeling guilty about the two hundred dollars she’d sent him the week before. Howard said he needed it to pay off this three-hundred-pound brotha who wanted to make him his bitch. Little did Janessa know that Tempest was well aware of it—Janessa’s mother had called Tempest to throw a hissy fit about the money, which she felt could have been put to better use at the grocery store.
“Good! I was about to say,” Tempest said, faking relief, “that’s money you should be saving to get your own place. You’re always complaining about Fred stinking up the house and all that. You need to plan your work and work your plan, sistahgurl.”
“I know that’s right, gurl,” Janessa agreed, having flashbacks, or smellbacks rather, of Fred letting out gas on the couch earlier that night. “It is seriously time for me to make a move and get up out of there. I’ve outgrown the projects, if there is such a thing as outgrowing it. The only people I have to talk to around the way have given up on their dreams and aspirations. It’s down right depressing sometimes. That’s why I’m so glad I have you.”
“You can always count on me, Janessa.”
“I know gurl. Ditto over here, sis,” Janessa said, holding up her hand for Tempest to slap her a high five.
They were silent for a few minutes, just listening to the jams on WPGC and looking at the lights as they headed downtown to DC Live.
“How are things at the post office?” Tempest asked.
“They’re okay,” Janessa replied. “Sometimes the supervisors rack on my nerves, though. They think they own me or some shit. I’m nobody’s chattel.”
“Amen to that!”
“Still, it feels damn good going to work every day and earning a living. For a while there, I was about to fall into that sitting-at-home-watching-soaps-all-day trap, but you pulled me back from the edge.” Janessa reached over and patted Tempest on the hand. “If I’ve never said it, thank you.”
Tempest glared over at her, trying to see if Janessa was getting teary-eyed, but couldn’t tell because of the steady stream of streetlights flooding into the car. “No thanks necessary. You did it all by yourself, Janessa. I was just your cheering section, and I’m extremely proud of you.”
“On the contrary, I didn’t do it all by myself,” Janessa objected. “If it weren’t for you pushing me to make something out of myself, I would probably have no future. Even though I’m still living at home, I do have goals. I have a purpose in life, and I know in time, everything will pan out for me. I owe it all to you. You know you’re my shero!”
Tempest grinned, trying to hold back her own tears. “Aww, shut the hell up before you make my ass cry. We’re out here to go clubbin’, remember? Not that I even know what to do in a club anymore. This should prove to be interesting.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you. What exactly do you have against clubs?”
“It’s not that I have anything against clubs. I’ve just outgrown them, like you’ve outgrown the projects. Clubs are nothing but meat markets. Always have been, always will be. I don’t even need to school you on that one.”
“True! I’m looking for some grade A, prime, FDA-approved dang-a-lang myself.” They both fell out laughing. “And a big, juicy tongue to go with it wouldn’t hurt.”
“You are too damn funny!” Tempest slowed the car down, glancing up and down the street. “Well, we’re here. Let’s start looking for a parking space.”
Janessa pointed to their left. “There’s one over there, sis.”
“Naw.” Tempest sighed disappointedly. “That’s in front of a hydrant.”
“Gurl, no one is going to bother your ass over there. You better go ahead and grab that spot before someone else gets it.”
“Uh-uh, no way. I’m not about to get towed trying to get up in a club. You know D.C. is on the brink of bankruptcy. Hell, they probably support half the city government employees by collecting parking ticket and towing money.”