Chapter 27

It's a Tuesday-- almost a week after my conversation with Simon--when my bladder wakes me out of my sleep. I wipe the crust out of my eyes as I slip on my pink house slippers. I navigate my way through the pitch darkness of my room, feeling for the door handle. The hallway is just as dark, and even more quiet. The only sound travels from the crack in my doorway where the ceiling fan hums lowly.

Lucky for me, the bathroom we all share is wedged between Paryis & I's rooms. I walk the familiar path to the bathroom, careful to lift my feet instead of sliding them in case Paryis or Simon were actually in their beds for once.

I'm on and off the toilet quick enough that if I'm lucky, I might be able to fall into my same dream. I don't remember much about it but I know it wasn't reality and that's good enough for me. Any time my subconscious went on leave was a good night's sleep for me and tonight was one of those nights.

After sluggishly drying my hands with a grey towel hanging by the sink, I'm ready to collapse back into bed. My fingers brush over the light switch while I use my other hand to pull the door open.

I didn't expect to see anyone woke this early in the morning, except maybe Paryis. But the dark figure standing in front of me now isn't my 4ft 5in little sister. There's also no teddy bear in its right hand that would indicate that Paryis had grown a feet and a half over night. The only thing I can make out in the dark is the outline of a gun.

I bite down on the scream rising in my throat. The last thing I need is someone to hear and come running to my defense. That would include more of us getting hurt than it has to. I'm scared silent as I move backwards into the bathroom. My fingers frantically search for the light. The person moves towards me, and in the knick of time, the light from the bathroom switches on.

"What the fuck you doing, Candy?"

It takes a few sharp intakes of breath to pair Simon's voice with his face. There are worry lines etched into his forehead and his bushy eyebrows are pulled together. Also, what I thought was a gun in his hand, turns out to be his iPhone, trapped inside a bulky, black Outerbox case.

"Fuck, Simon!" I huff out.

"Whatchu doing?" He asks again.

I place both hands on my knees.

It's just Simon. It's just Simon, I tell myself. Still, it takes Simon stepping into the bathroom and looking me in my face for me to steady my heart rate. I push his hands off my shoulders, standing up straight.

"I'm okay," I say.

Simon eyes me suspiciously. I roll my eyes at him.

"What the fuck you doing up anyway?" I ask him.

"Calvin called. He said his block was moving slow. They was getting two or three sales an hour but it's been quiet the last thirty minutes. He's on his way to pick me up so I figured I'd wait for him outside so he ain't blowing no horn, waking Mama up and shit," Simon says.

"He's picking you up to go where?" I ask.

"Where else?"

"He wants you to open the trap at 5 in the morning?"

Simon's tongue rolls across his jaw before he sighs. I can tell I'm getting on his nerves with the third degree but I'm not used to him leaving out the house at the crack of dawn. I knew shit was gonna' change when he went full-time but this seems a lil drastic.

"He think we could keep the money flowing in the Florida projects. You know nobody sell round there but us," Simon says.

"But this early in the morning? Do crackheads even be up at this hour?" I ask.

Simon shrugs, "It's his neighborhood. He should know."

"Does Caesar know about this?" I ask.

Simon glares at me.

"You know, just 'cause Caesar helped out don't mean I answer to him. I asked to work for you, remember?" Simon asks.

"How can I forget? Besides, I ain't hire Calvin--

"Right. Yo errand boy did," Simon interrupts.

"--so I'm not who he answers to."

Simon shakes his head.

"Whatever, bruh. Is there a point to this?" He asks.

"Yes. I don't think you should be jumping whenever Calvin says jump."

Simon rolls his eyes.

"Nah, hear me out," I say, "He makes you wait until he tapped out on his block to even give you the time of day. What's the point of you committing to this shit full time if you barely clocking hours 'cause you working around his schedule?"

"So what you want me to do? You said we needed help. I came to you for answers and this what you told me to do. I never asked you to let Caesar take over, that was yo' decision. But you the boss, right? If you don't like how shit moving then do something about it," Simon says.

Just then, a car horn blares outside at the same time Simon's phone starts to ring.

He declines the call. He shoves his phone in the pocket of his beige cargo shorts.

"I gotta go. I'll catch up with you later," Simon says.

His low-cut red Converse are thudding down the stairs before I can say 'bye'. I walk to the edge of the stairs in time to see his white T-shirt slip through the front door.

"Be safe," I say as the door slams shut.

I'm exhausted when I walk back to my bedroom but it has little to do with waking out my sleep. I lose sight of falling back into my dream as I climb into bed. After my conversation with Simon, it's unlikely that I'll dream of anything other than our current circumstances. I decide stress berading my dreams is better than it nawing at my brain while I'm up so I force my eyes close.

Before I drift off to sleep, I reach over and unplug my phone from the charger. Simon was right. I'm not completely helpless. I still have the power to do one good thing concerning him. I open my text thread and click the name at the top of the list.

Caesar: I need to talk to you about some changes I wanna make. Where you gon' be at today?

I lock my phone and turn over on my side. I watch the bare trees outside of my windows rattle with the pull of the wind. It becomes therapeutic as the fan hums above me. Pretty soon, the darkness of the room is shut off by the darkness of my eyelids.

...

In the morning, it occurs to me that I couldn't have woken up from my dream state yet. This has to be stress playing some sick joke on me, I decide. But my bodily reactions tell me something different. I don't have to pinch myself to know that I'm awake. Anger, disbelief and pain jolts my ass awake, even if the message on my screen didn't.

I stare at the screen, willing my heart rate to slow down. I have to grip the phone extra tight to keep it from falling free of my shaky hands. The address on my screen just can't be right. There ain't no way in hell Caesar is seriously asking me to meet him at Keyana's house.

The chances of him being oblivious to the beef I have with this girl is as slim as the chances of me still being in a dream. I never tried to hide my disdain, so why would either of them think her house could be anything other than ground zero for a fight to break out? The only reason I would step foot in her house again was if she was saving someone I loved. And Caesar didn't mention anything about a medical emergency so I'm struggling to see the point of going over there.

I sit on the edge of my bed working through all the possible reasons. Still, I'm coming up empty-handed. What the fuck are we gonna' do there that we can't do at The Loft? Or at his house? Does he think Keyana need to be included in our conversation? 'Cause I just wanted to talk about Simon. But if we gonna be discussing relationship drama, I do have a few questions I can pose. Like, why is this bitch still around if they were supposedly broken up? Or better yet, how many times would he have to break up with this hoe for her to take a damn hint?

I mean, I get it. I get it. Keyana gave Caesar a son, whether he was biologically his doesn't seem to matter. Caesar's attached to that kid so his ties to Keyana makes sense. She gave him the one thing I couldn't: a family free of complications. No, seriously. The bitch couldn't have baby daddy drama or something?

I shove my feet inside of my black and yellow Nike's, hastily lacing up the sneakers. When I'm done, I grab my hair into a bun at the top of my head. I secure it with a satin, yellow scrunchie I find on my dresser.

Adrenaline nearly urges me down the stairs and out the door in my tights and night shirt. As amped as I am, the wind blowing against my bedroom windows suggest otherwise. I need a jacket or the only thing I'ma be is frostbitten by the time I swing on Keyana.

I don't have to look in my closet to know there's not a jacket in sight. I put too much faith in New Orleans's dysfunctional weather. The last time I went shopping, I filled my closet with summer clothes thinking it would stay warm the rest of the year. Now it's freezing to the bone outside. Christmas is a few weeks away and people are starting to believe it's gonna' snow for the first time since 2009.

I'm bout ready to deck a Ho Ho Ho too. I'm seeing red by the time I stomp down the hall to Ace's room. His room has picked up the stale odor that rooms get when no one has lived in it for awhile. I guess four and a half months consituted "a while". I push the longing in my chest down to the pit of my stomach, remembering the reason I came here.

I cross over the broken football trophies and picture frames the Fed destroyed during the raid. I weave my way through to the closet, using both my hands to spread the french doors apart. Orange shoeboxes litter the closet floor. Hanging right above them are the clothes Ace couldn't take with him. Remembering the yellow scrunchie in my head, I reach for a gold hoodie with a red logo on the back. I don't bother to take off my night shirt. The oversized hoodie covers it anyway, falling over the waistband of my grey tights.

I close the closet doors and shut the lights off. When I turn to leave, I almost catch a heart attack. Paryis is blocking the doorway. I don't know what's up with my siblings and their sneak attacks but I wish they fucking stop. I breathe in shallow breaths, staring down at her. She holds her bear up to her chin, staring up at me dewy-eyed.

I'm on a war path right now so I really don't have time to baby her. Still, I can already feel some of my anger subsiding. Sometimes I wished she was still the neck-rolling brat she used to be. If she was still herself, it would be a lot easier to shoo her away and continue on with my day. I can't turn her away now. Not when she's looking up at me like the rest of her life depends on how I treat her in this moment.

"What, Paryis?" I ask.

She stares at the ground while she talks.

"I thought you was...I saw the door open so I just thought..."

Shit. Why did I have to look for a jacket in Ace's room of all places?

I don't have time for this but I guess I'll have to make time. My rage quiets down as I kneel in front of Paryis. It's getting way too easy to knock me off my game. One pout from Paryis or a cry from Mama and I fold like paper. I used to be able to be who my family needed me to be and still do what I needed to do. Tunnel vision doesn't exist with them anymore. One look at Paryis' slumped posture and only one thing becomes important.

"Hey, look at me," I tell her.

She makes no move of lifting her head so I use my hand to do it for her. Her eyes are swimming with tears. I feel a part of me cave inside but the anger helps soak up what would otherwise be tears.

"Paryis, you know Ace isn't coming back for awhile right?" I ask as gently as I can.

As if on cue, the tears in her eyes start to fall.

"I'm not stupid, Candy. I just can't help waiting," She says.

I'm quiet as I watch her hustle to dry her face. I don't know what to say to that. In all honesty, somewhere along the way, I gave up on Ace. I have enough sense to know he's gotta come back one day. I just don't have the energy to keep hoping that day will be today. But Paryis is young. Despite all the shit she's seen, she's still innocent enough to have hope. So I'm not gonna be the one to take it from her.

"Well how 'bout this? How 'bout you take care of Ace's room while he's gone. It's a little messy but I think he would appreciate you helping him out. You can sleep in there whenever you want and wait for him. That way you can feel close to him and when he does come back, you'll be the first person he sees, okay?" I ask.

Paryis sniffles.

"Okay," She nods.

I pull her in for a hug. She drops the bear, wrapping both arms around my neck. When we break apart, I'm suprised to see a smile on her face where a frown once was. Then I see she's laughing to herself.

"What's so funny?" I ask.

"You smell like him," She says.

I sniff the collar of the hoodie and sure enough, Ace's signature cologne floats back.

I wrinkle my nose, now understanding why she was laughing. Ace's cologne was heavy and not in a good way. It smelled like Old Spice gave up halfway and filled the rest with Axe. It was strong enough to give me a dull headache. We always teased him about it, and now here I was, smelling just like him.

"Are you wearing his clothes cause you wanna' feel close to him too?" Paryis asks.

"Yeah."

She wraps her arms around my neck again.

"He'll be back. I just know it," She whispers into my neck.

I smile sadly, peeling her away from me. I'm sure he would, but I can't think about that right now. I still had a bitch I may or may not have to stomp out.

"I gotta go but I'll be back in a little while. Go make yourself at home," I say, nodding towards Ace's room.

She picks her bear up from the floor. I watch her happily climb into Ace's bed. I can't lie; I'm feeling a little satisfied with myself when I turn to walk away.

"Candy?"

I turn to face her.

"Where you going?" She asks.

"To beat a bitch up but don't tell mama," I say.

Paryis giggles, "Who you beating up?"

Either Caesar or Keyana but I guess we'll see when I get there. But to Paryis I say, "It don't matter as long as I win."

I leave her laughing in Ace's room but I ain't never been more serious. I know I said we didn't have time for relationship drama but with the club closed, there's not much else to focus on. I've been wanting to get to the bottom of Caesar's relationship with Keyana for a while now. The problem was, I always had more important shit to worry about.

Speaking of, I still had to inform him of Simon's decision to sell drugs as a way of helping out and not just to settle a debt. I plan on catching him up to speed if all things go well. But first, I have to see what was up with him and Keyana. So the conversation we've been putting off for weeks, is the first order of business today. Today I find out where Caese and I stand and if I gotta throw a few punches to get an answer, then so be it.

...

The white house in front of me looks different than the last time I was here. For starters, there's no dog in the yard. There's a bone and a dog toy lingering on the porch, but the dog shit in the yard is clumped and infested with flies like no one has been here to pick up the mess. That's not likely though, seeing as there's a familiar grey Audi in the driveway. There's also a familiar white Audi parked right behind it, taking up the rest of the driveway space. Of course that doesn't bother me 'cause it's not like I have wheels and the Lyft driver isn't here to stay.

Once the car drives off, I undo the latch on the fence. It rises and falls back into place easy enough. I steer clear of the flies' dinner while I walk to the porch. I decide against going in arms ablazin'. It's clear shit isn't what I thought it was gonna be. For starters, I didn't expect Reese to be here, so I'm already thrown off my game. It's best if I see what I'm walking into before I demand answers.

I raise my fist to pound on the door. The knocks aren't hard enough for them to think I'm the police. But, they are loud enough for Caesar to shout, "Aye, who the fuck that is" through the door.

"It's Candyce," I say.

After a quiet minute, the door opens. Caesar walks out in a white tank top and black and white Adidas pants with the stripes on the side. His feet are covered in socks. His lining needed a fresh touch, and his curls were back nesting on his head.

Then I take in the scowl set on his face and I'm more confused. His face is shaped by furrowed eyebrows and a mug set deep into his face.

The fuck is wrong with him?

"Say, who at the door, B?"

Caesar opens the door wider, giving me a clear view of Reese sitting on the couch. There's a gun in his lap and a dark blue bomber jacket sprawled over the cushions beside him. He's dressed in a white long-sleeved T-shirt with grey biker jeans on. I can't see what shoes he's wearing 'cause his feet is covered by the brown coffee table in front of him. Still, it's the simplest I've ever seen him dress.

Caesar leaves the door open so I walk in, closing and locking it behind me.

"What's good fam?" Reese greets me.

"Hey," I say.

Caesar takes a seat in the red arm chair closest to the door, leaving me to walk further in the house. I scoot past his legs, deciding to take a seat next to Reese on the opposite end of the couch. When I sit down, I find him glancing between me and Caese.

"What, nigga?" Caesar asks.

"I didn't know she was coming over," Reese says.

"What the fuck that gotta do with you?" Caesar asks.

"I'm just saying, you really wanna keep discussing business in front her, son?"

"I really want you to dead this shit altogether but I know you won't so get on with it, nigga."

I'm confused and I don't know if I should be. Reese is stalling like he doesn't want me to hear but Caesar is either irritated enough that he doesn't care what I hear, or he genuinely doesn't mind me sitting in on the conversation. I glance at Reese, pulling on the back of his neck like it's physically causing him pain to talk business in front of me. If only he knew, I was here to talk business too.

"Caese, where's the bathroom?" I ask.

"Straight to the back. The light should be on," He says.

I get up to leave but Caesar stops me.

"You know you don't have to leave right? Reese'll be aight" He says.

Reese scoffs, "I ain't never known you to be a pillow-talking ass niggas. I guess a lots changed since you came back home."

"And I never known you to be crash out but here we are," Caesar says.

I glance between the two of them, suddenly wishing Caesar hadn't stopped me from leaving the room. The tension between them was thick enough to suffocate even me. I don't know what's going on between them, but I do know that I want no parts of it.