tripling my shipping costs. I folded the check and slipped it into the register, grateful for this timely payment and the promised installment. All those zeros were honey to a sistah’s heart—even if it did come with a price.
“Now we’re even,” Tangela said. “And if…uh, when you ever get married, I promise to not be pregnant, fat or otherwise indisposed. I understand just how stressful this all is.”
I almost laughed then, staring at homegirl’s bejeweled and designer exterior. Stressful? What did she know about it? Whatever problem Tangela’s man didn’t pick up, her daddy would. Though he’d taken to wearing clean shirts and cooking me breakfast, my father was no doubt on the casino boat, at the racetrack or on his way to the shop to borrow a few dollars to “tide him over.”
Next, Renee would come for her weekly fill-up, and then my no-good cousins, who stopped by on weekends to see if I wasn’t being “stingy”—meaning whether I’d let them plunder the soap bins and slather lotion from head to toe, filling their purses with goodies for their friends.
No, ole Tange didn’t know a thing about stress. My Daddy in Heaven had my back, as Renee so deftly put it. I’d never join the ranks of my once-intelligent, college-educated former friends who’d morphed into breastfeeding, baby-talking soccer moms with sippy cups and minivans. Tangela would become one, too—in the off season, of course. She and Tracey could keep it. There’d be none of that for me.
What about Adrian?
I shrugged off the thought. Things between us were strange but bearable. His sporadic visits and communications kept things they way I wanted them, under control. Church, work, books, bills. Those were my world. And not necessarily in that order.
The cash drawer clicked shut. There wasn’t any turning back now. Unless…I wasn’t pregnant, but I still had my childbearing hips. They’d gotten me out of worse jams than this. “Are you sure the dress will fit?”
“Perfectly. She spread at the bottom first…if her belly had held on another two months, we could have made it.”
“Right.” Great. I was a perfect match for a pregnant woman. Next, I’d be a stunt double for a linebacker or something.
Tangela lunged forward to give me a hug. I stumbled from the stench of her perfume. Estée Lauder’s Beautiful. Half a bottle at least. Not a bad choice, but with all that money, I’d expected Chanel, but considering her rate of use, cheaper was probably better. Woke my sniffer right up.
She dug in her purse of mass destruction and pulled out a pamphlet. Tangie’s Bridesmaid’s Handbook. It actually said handbook. Some people have way too much time on their hands.
“The dress will be delivered tomorrow.”
“On Sunday?”
Her grin said it all. “FedEx.”
Some intense brides-to-be had passed through my door in the past few months, but this one was not to be believed. “You already sent it?”
The hyena laugh again. “I knew you’d say yes. Why wouldn’t you?”
I could think of one tall, brown reason and it stood across from me, reeking of SD 40 alcohol. That wet cement settled in my throat again—God’s way of reminding me that sometimes it’s best to just hush. I shrugged. Why not, indeed.
“The schedule of events is on page twelve. But in case you don’t get around to reading it today, the bachelorette luncheon is next Saturday. Semicasual—”
Was this a wedding or an inauguration? “Don’t you mean bachelorette party?” Not that it mattered. I’d be working.
“Oh, no. That’s not until after the slumber party, the sisterhood tea and the spa cruise.”
I stared. First at her, then at my purse and finally at the ceiling. A girl had to watch out what she prayed for to be sure. I didn’t know what God was up to, but this sounded like a doozy. I tried to focus on all the lovely soap I’d be able to make. And bath bombs, lotion, maybe even launch the natural hair care line—especially the twist and lock butter and the roll-on scalp shampoo I’d been playing with.
“Sounds like a riot.” The damp sand taste in my mouth traveled to my gut….
“You’re so cute. It’s all in the book. Read it over. I’ll get back with you.” She waved like a little brown puppy. “This is going to be so fun…and wait until you see your escort. If I hadn’t met Sheldon first…well, you know.”
I did know. Girls like Tangela went for the dollars, not the dude. I had to laugh though, considering how much of a jerk