Two Tears in a Bucket Read online

  Pulling a ten-dollar bill from his pocket, he made eye contact with the dancer and flashed the money. With her eyes locked to Kevin’s, she swiveled her body to the beat of the music and strutted over to him. She stood before him, peeling off the sheer pink bra that accented her chocolate skin. She licked her glossy red lips and held his gaze while slithering down to the ground like a python.

  She crawled to the edge of the stage, leaned over, and jiggled her bare, voluptuous breasts in front of Kevin. With a raised brow, she slid her finger inside her pink G-string and toyed with the material. Kevin stood and inserted the ten-dollar bill into her G-string, knowing she wouldn’t remove the garment until he did.

  With the grace of a trained ballerina, the dancer stretched her legs into an open split and snatched off the rigged G-string, giving Kevin a full view of her Brazilian wax.

  Damn, he thought as she tumbled over backward, allowing him to see her most intimate parts.

  Hours later, Kevin had consumed more than half the bottle of Remy. He glanced at his watch and realized it was after eight. Damn! Where’d the day go? he thought as he stood to leave. But the alcohol took control, spinning the room around and around.

  Kevin stumbled from the club and wobbled to the truck parked in an alley a few blocks away. He climbed inside.

  “Damn,” he mumbled as he rested his head on the steering wheel in a final attempt to gain control of the spinning. But everything seemed to spin more. “Shit, Ed, I’ma have to find your ass tomorrow.”

  He took a deep breath, started the truck, placed it in gear, and drifted from the alley onto the main street.

  BOOM!

  ● ● ●

  Bright lights burned through Kevin’s eyelids as he struggled to pull from his unconscious state. Damn, this is a helluva hangover, he thought. Blinking rapidly, he forced his eyes open. Bit by bit, the unfamiliar surroundings of the hospital room came into view.

  “What the fuck is this shit?” Kevin panicked at the sight of the IV protruding from the back of his hand.

  “Calm down, Mr. Kennard. You’re okay.” The doctor stood at Kevin’s bedside, making his morning rounds. “I’m Dr. Scott, and as you can see, you’re in the hospital.”

  “Doc, what’s wrong with me? Why am I in here? What happened?”

  “You were in a car accident three days ago.”

  “A car accident?”

  “Yes, sir,” the doctor confirmed. “Mr. Kennard, can you see the clock on the wall?”

  Three days? Oh my God! I know Ma is buggin’ out. I gotta—

  “Mr. Kennard,” the doctor interrupted him from his thoughts. “Can you tell me what time it is?”

  “Yeah,” Kevin said as he turned his attention to the wall clock. “It’s eight-forty-five.”

  “That’s correct.” Dr. Scott rested his clipboard on the bed and applied light pressure to Kevin’s limbs. “Are you experiencing any pain?”

  “No, none. Doc, you said I’ve been here for three days?”

  “Yes, since Wednesday evening. We’ve been monitoring you, and you don’t appear to have any internal injuries. Seems you got off very lucky.”

  “Well, since I’m a’ight, can I go home?”

  “Can you go home?” The doctor chuckled as if to soften his answer. “Mr. Kennard, you just woke up after being out for three days.”

  “Yeah, but you said I was fine, right?”

  “Well, how about we get some food in you first, before we make any plans. Okay?”

  “A’ight.”

  Damn…when the hell did I have an accident? The last thing I remember is being in the club.

  “Oh, and one last thing before I forget,” the doctor said as he made notes in Kevin’s file. “Your blood alcohol level was extremely high. Although the police said the accident didn’t appear to be your fault, you weren’t mentally fit to drive. You, sir, have a lot to be thankful for.”

  Chapter Five

  God is truly trying to tell me something, Kevin thought as he showered. He knew his life had to change, and he wanted that change to include Simone. She was all he could think of and talk about as his mother drove him home from the hospital.

  “Kevin, I’ve heard all this before!” Beatrice said over her car radio. “You ain’t telling me nothing new.”

  “Ma, this time is different. Wait until I introduce you to her.”

  “Boy, I don’t need to be meeting no whole bunch of grown-butt little girls!”

  “Ma, she’s not like that,” Kevin said. “She actually reminds me of you.”

  “Oh gosh, now that’s a new one! What the chile look like? I hope it ain’t that funny-looking thing that lives up on the third floor. I told you I don’t want any ugly-ass grandkids. I’m not bouncing no lil’ monkeys on my knee.”

  “C’mon now, Ma. Since when have you known me to mess with monkeys? Simone’s pretty. She got nice, pretty black hair, dimples, and,” Kevin added, looking at his mother, “she’s like your complexion.”

  Beatrice was stunned. “What? You mean to tell me she’s not high yellow? I was beginning to think you were color struck for a minute.”

  “If I am, I got it from you. Look how light your husband was.”

  “Yeah, your father was bright as hell, but I’ve dated all shades. You,” she added as she glanced at her son, “seemed to be stuck there for a minute.”

  “Naw, I date all shades, too, Ma. You’ve only seen one or two of them, and they just so happened to be light. I’m really liking Simone, though. She’s different. She’s not like anybody I’ve ever messed with. And believe me, Ma. If we ever had a baby, it wouldn’t be no monkey.”

  “Well, let that be the farthest thing from your mind. The last thing you need is a damn baby.”

  “Yeah, plus I gotta get some first. I’ve been hanging out at her place for like two weeks, and we still ain’t done nothing.”

  “Wait a minute,” Beatrice said, ignoring his comment. “You said she’s my complexion, with pretty hair and dimples? Does she live on the second floor in the first apartment on the right?”

  “Yeah.” Kevin was puzzled. “How you know?”

  “Ah, boy, I met her at the mailbox a few days ago when you were missing in action! She came in singing ‘Mr. Postman’ to the mailman. I started snapping my fingers and singing, too. The mailman was dropping the mail in the boxes, dancing with us.” Beatrice chuckled. “I like her.”

  “See and I’m telling you, Ma, she’s not a fast butt.”

  “Hmm,” Beatrice mumbled, nodding approvingly. “That’s all right. So what you gon’ do about Ms. Rhonda? She’s called a few times looking for you.”

  “I ain’t thinking ’bout her.”

  “Well, you better. You and Rhonda have been going back and forth for years. Every time she pops up, you drop everything and everybody for her fast tail. You better call and get her straight.”

  “I’ma talk to her and let her know,” Kevin said nonchalantly. He could feel his mother’s gaze from the corner of his eye. “I’m serious, Ma. I’ma call her eventually and let her know it’s over this time for real.”

  ● ● ●

  Only ten minutes to go, Simone thought, glancing at the clock as she hung up the phone. Just when she was getting ready to write Kevin off as another sorry ass, he called with a legitimate excuse for his absence. And now in a matter of minutes, Simone could head home and tend to his aches and pains from the accident.

  Shoot, she thought as the phone rang again.

  “Thank you for calling the law offices of Brown, Byrd, and Henson,” Simone greeted, answering the phone. “How can I assist you?”

  “Simone? Hey, you busy?”

  “Hey, Nana,” Simone greeted, happy to hear her grandmother’s voice. “No, I’m just waiting for five o’clock, and then I’m out the door.”

  “Well, I just wanted to call and give you a heads-up. I think your mother’s getting ready to call you.”

  “For what? She hasn’t called me since I move
d.”

  “I know,” Nana said. “But she calls me nearly every day to see if I’ve talked to you.”

  Simone didn’t respond.

  “Now listen, Simone. You know how I am,” Nana added. “I do not like all this not-speaking mess. It’s been going on too long.”

  “But, Nana,” Simone interrupted, “I didn’t do anything but defend myself.”

  “I know that, Simone, and deep down, your mother knows that, too, which is why she’s trying to move past it. She has finally mustered up the strength to call you. I know it’s been killing her. She even told me Ricardo’s seeking treatment for his substance abuse.”

  “Nana, you didn’t tell her what he did, did you?”

  “No, as much as I want, to, I didn’t because I told you I wouldn’t. You swear he’s only touched you once?”

  “Yeah, Nana.”

  “Simone,” one of the secretaries buzzed through the intercom.

  “Yes,” Simone answered. “Hold on, Nana.”

  “You have a call on line three.”

  “Thanks,” Simone said. “That’s probably her, Nana.”

  “You gonna be nice, right? It’s been almost two months, and despite everything she is still your mother.”

  “Alright, Nana.” Simone huffed. “Since I’m in a good mood, I’ll be nice just for you.”

  “Good. Now go talk to her before she chickens out and hangs up. I love ya.”

  Simone glanced up at the clock. She only had five more minutes to go. She’s funny, Simone thought. Angela knew what time she got off. I guess she figured if she called me at five o’clock, we wouldn’t have to talk long.

  Simone picked up the call on hold. “Hello.”

  “Sounds like you rushing,” Angela said.

  “I am. I was just getting ready to put the answering machine on and run out to the bus stop. I get off at five, remember?”

  “Oh, that’s right. Well, don’t let me hold you up. I just wanted to call and check on you.”

  “No, I can talk. I can catch the next bus. They run every couple of minutes when it’s rush hour.”

  “Oh,” Angela said, awkwardly. “Umm, well, how’s the apartment coming? You have everything you need?”

  “For the most part.”

  “Well, maybe I’ll swing by over the weekend. I can pick up Nana, and maybe we can take you to the grocery store or something.”

  “Umm, that’s fine.”

  “Well, you go ahead and catch the bus. I just wanted to call and check on you. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Simone hung up the phone, surprised by the conversation. It actually felt good to hear Angela’s voice. Like Nana said, you are my mother.

  ● ● ●

  Kevin stretched the kinks from his sore limbs. Damn, it’s freezing in here, he thought as he got up to close the bedroom window. As he turned to climb back in bed, he noticed Simone’s nightshirt had crept up, revealing her plump ass in a pair of bikini underwear.

  Mmm, mmm, mmm, he thought, instantly aroused as he crawled back in bed and snuggled up next to her. Gently, he nibbled on her ear and allowed his hand to travel under her nightshirt, where he began to massage her perky breasts. She woke with a smile on her face and rolled from her side to her back.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” Kevin whispered. He inched Simone’s shirt up until her chocolate nipples stared at him, making his mouth water. One by one, he took them in his mouth, savoring their flavor as he teased them with his tongue.

  Simone moaned tenderly, rubbing the back of his head. “Good morning to you, too. You not sore? You don’t need to take anything?”

  “Naw, you all the medicine I need,” he said. “Tylenol couldn’t fix this, anyway.” Kevin slid the covers back to show Simone the bulge in his shorts.

  “I know how to cure that,” she replied seductively.

  “Oh yeah?” Kevin asked with a raised brow.

  “Mmm, hmm. Just take the socks out.” She smiled.

  Matching her smile, Kevin replied, “Yeah, maybe I should.”

  Propped up on her elbow, Simone watched as Kevin peeled from his boxers.

  “Damn,” he said as he tossed his shorts to the side of the bed. “No socks.”

  He reached for Simone’s hand and guided her to his hardness. Together, they stroked him until his excitement began to leak.

  Shit, Kevin screamed to himself, fighting the urge to explode. “Okay, okay. That’s enough.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Naw,” Kevin said, forcing Simone down on her back. “I don’t wanna embarrass myself.”

  “You were getting ready to…”

  Kevin silenced Simone with his lips, kissing her over and over again in slow, sensuous pecks. The passion in the room heightened as he nursed her lips apart. Faint moans escaped them as their tongues became reacquainted. Kevin’s hand skated down her curves and rested between the warmth of her legs. He rubbed the center of her panties until he simply couldn’t take it anymore. Maneuvering past the crotch of her underwear, he eased his fingers inside her. He peeled his lips from hers and watched her close her eyes in pleasure.

  “I wanna make love to you so bad, baby,” Kevin moaned, nibbling lightly on her neck as he played in her wetness.

  Simone opened her eyes. Without words, she arched her back and gave Kevin the go-ahead to remove her panties. He peeled them off and positioned himself on top of her. With their eyes glued on each other, he worked his erection inside her, teasing her with just a portion, then satisfying her with it all.

  Their bodies rocked in a deep, slow motion to the whines of pleasure filling the room as they made love for the first time. Soon, their hunger for each other amplified; their rhythm quickened as they found their ultimate pleasure together.

  “Damn, Simone,” Kevin panted as he filled her with the remaining drops of his orgasm.

  “Damn, Simone what?” she whispered, wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead.

  “I’m falling in love with you.”

  “That’s good.” She smiled. “Because I’m falling in love with you, too.”

  ● ● ●

  Simone woke to the irritating sound of the phone. Tangled in the sheets, she pulled herself from Kevin’s arms to answer it.

  “You sleep?” Nana asked.

  “I was.” Simone yawned and smiled down at Kevin as he stroked her arm.

  “Well, get up. Your momma’s here and we’re on our way over. See you in a bit.”

  Simone hung up the phone and looked around her room. Kevin’s boxers and clothes were tossed on one side of the bed, and her nightshirt and underwear were on the other. The nightstand overflowed with the dishes from the late breakfast they had cooked together.

  “What’s wrong?” Kevin asked as Simone slung back the covers.

  “Get your drawers. My mother and grandmother are on their way over.”

  ● ● ●

  The sunroom overlooking the manicured lawns of the nursing home was Mr. Johnson’s favorite place to sit while he recovered from his chemotherapy. There, Mr. Johnson could sit and watch the leaves change colors and descend to the ground. Of the eight elderly men Kevin tended to, Mr. Curtis Johnson was undeniably his favorite. He was the closest thing to a father Kevin had in his life.

  “Your momma told me you out there slinging them drugs again,” Mr. Johnson said as Kevin helped him into a rocking chair. “I guess you like sitting behind bars, huh?”

  “No, sir. Not at all. I’m not in the streets the way I used to be.”

  “The way you used to be? Boy, you shouldn’t be out there at all. I know that area where you hang out. I got a sister over there. I been trying to get her from around there for I don’t know how long. Every now and then, I spend the weekends with her. That place is like the wild, wild west. Bullets be flying all night long. You better get your tail from over there.”

  “I’m tryin’, Mr. Johnson.”

  “Aww, that’s hogwash. You ain’t tryin’ hard enough. Ain�
��t nothing in them streets but trouble and fast-ass women. When your little ding-a-ling get to dripping, you’d wish you hada listened to me.” Kevin couldn’t help but laugh. “You can think it’s funny if you want. You know what I’d do if I were your age?”

  “What’s that, Mr. Johnson?”

  “I’d find me a nice lil’ gal and start making plans for tomorrow,” he said, looking at Kevin firmly.

  “I already found a nice lil’ gal.”

  “Yeah, well, if she means anything to you, you’d get yourself together and leave them streets alone. ’Cause if you don’t, you gon’ end up bringing both of y’all down. Watch what I tell you. Get married and start a family. Hell, do it ’fore this cancer take me away from here. I’m sure I can muscle up enough energy to cut a rug at your wedding.”

  “Ah, Mr. Johnson, don’t talk like that. You ain’t going nowhere no time soon. You got a lot of life left in you.”

  “I don’t know ’bout that. Some mornings I feel like I’m a hundred-sixty-two instead of sixty-two. But don’t you worry ’bout me. When I’m dead and gon’, I’ma still be watching you from up above to make sure you do right, you hear me? You remind me of the son I never had.”

  “I hear you, Mr. Johnson.”

  ● ● ●

  April, 1988 - Spring hit and Kevin began spending more and more time on the strip. The fast money he earned slinging drugs put the chump change he earned at the nursing home to shame. He tried reliving his conversations with Mr. Johnson over and over, but the old man’s words weren’t powerful enough to quiet the cries from the street.

  Kevin reached a fork in the road. Drifting home late at night, he dreaded getting up early in the morning to work at the nursing home. He couldn’t take it and finally found the courage to quit.

  “Have you lost your damn mind?” Beatrice yelled.

  “Ma, I’m wiping ol’ men butts for five dollars an hour.”

  “Kevin, it’s more than that. It’s a real job, and it’s keeping your behind out of trouble. You haven’t even been home a year yet! Didn’t those six months behind bars teach you anything?”

  “Ma, I know you worried ’bout me, but I’ma get outta those streets eventually. I promise. Besides, I ain’t doing nothin’ compared to what I used to do, and I’m not gon’ be out there every day.”