Carl Weber Presents Full Figured 6: Plus Size Divas Page 14

  My sister Anitra took after our mother while I resembled my father’s side of the family, a glaring reminder of the man who left her, probably why she favored my sister over me. And in this awkward, unfortunate situation, it was no different.

  I stayed out of Anitra’s business and she, living clear over in Summerwood with her bougie ass, stayed out of mine. How was I to know her business was Carlos?

  Yes. We were sleeping with the same man, an awful coincidence in a city of over four million people.

  Except, Anitra had the privilege of knowing Carlos’s family.

  She was engaged to him.

  “Sis,” I said as I took a deep breath. “I already told you. I did not know you were seeing Carlos. And, to be honest, he didn’t strike me as your type, what with him being a ‘civil servant’ ’n’ all.”

  “I’ll have you know, Carlos was due for a promotion. You see all these officers here. They loved him! Bitch, you should have some class and civility about you. Carlos’s family is probably wondering what’s going on. Lord knows I already have to deal with the embarrassment and whispers of my . . . my fiancé sleeping with another woman. But for them to find out it’s my own sister . . . well . . . I just will not stand for it,” she huffed with that indignant face I’d seen way too many times in life.

  I honestly did not know we were seeing the same man until after Carlos died. Y’see, my sister and I weren’t the type to trade stories over coffee and such. I found out from my mother that Anitra was in mourning for her fiancé, a man who’d died in the midst of cheating on her with another woman. Had almost chalked it up to some fluky coincidence until my mother let it slip that Anitra’s fiancé was a police officer. Let’s just say my first conversation with my sister in months was less than civil.

  “It’s always about you, huh, Anitra?” I cracked. “Maybe that’s what made him seek someone a little less selfish.”

  “And obviously a lot more desperate,” my sister spat, her voice dripping with bitterness and contempt. “I don’t know what he was doing with you. Must’ve gotten him drunk,” Anitra remarked as she looked me up and down before turning that nose up that probably sniffed the Ross on my outfit. Not everybody in this town was earning six figures working for Chevron like she was.

  “Isn’t it obvious? He liked what he saw,” I chimed, throwing back Anitra’s remarks about my body. Just because she was slender like our mother, she somehow thought that made her better than me. But she was ugly on the inside, something which drove a bigger wedge between us than any man ever could.

  “Artemis, you’re not welcome here. I told you that before you decided not to listen. You should go now before you upset your sister anymore,” our mother, Ruth, begged.

  It turned my stomach to hear her so steadfast in her support for Anitra over me.

  “We can talk about this later, but right now Anitra needs to be in there with Carlos’s family.”

  “Excuse me? Who the hell are y’all? And why are y’all yellin’ in here?” a Hispanic woman with a little boy at her side asked as she tried to pass. We were blocking the entrance to the viewing, but she seemed kinda bossy for just another person paying their respects. She was a thick, curvy woman like me and, upon my doing a double take, her little boy didn’t appear to be quite . . . fully Hispanic. With those puffy cheeks, one could swear he looked like a tiny, lighter-skinned version of...

  I blinked, stunned by thoughts assaulting my mind; didn’t even hear what my mother and sister were saying to her just then except that they hadn’t a clue. As I opened my mouth to ask the obvious, a woman I presumed was Carlos’s mother peered from the viewing room before my words could form. She saw the accusation crystallizing in my eyes as I stood beside Anitra.

  The elderly woman in black with silver hair nervously smiled, then cast her gaze on the woman and child. “Luz, where have you and Carlos Jr. been? Come on in here, girl,” she urged, giving the two of them a hug as she ushered them to view Carlos’s body.

  Then, almost as if we were an afterthought, she doubled back and addressed us. “Luz and my Carlos have been sweethearts since high school. Of course, my baby did love the ladies,” she admitted, grinning sheepishly as she turned to leave us looking like fools. The non-invite to join the family was all too evident and totally understood.

  My mother and Anitra were caught flat-footed, no longer feeling so special right now as Carlos’s real girlfriend and son took their seats in the front row of the chapel with his relatives and family.

  “That bitch,” Anitra cursed. “Who does she think she is?”

  “His number one to your number two,” I mumbled, knowing she really didn’t want me to answer. But I did anyway. “You know what, Anitra? You are right,” I admitted with a smart-ass smile. “Carlos was all yours. So I’m gonna ‘respect your wishes’ and leave you and Mama so I can go return this outfit to Ross before I sweat in it. Deuces, y’all.”

  Then I smartly took my leave while they debated whether to start a fight in the funeral home over a dead man.

  A damn shame.

  Chapter 3

  “How was your weekend, baby?” my coworker Miss Nancy asked, as I trudged in Monday morning looking like death on two weary legs. I guessed my being here was a testament to my being among the living though.

  “Meh,” I replied, not even bothering with an eye roll as I plopped in my cubicle chair opposite her. I hadn’t slept well since Carlos died on me and this weekend, after the fallout at the funeral home, was no different. Hadn’t taken any calls from my mother as that shit she pulled with my sister was inexcusable. Besides, I could hear her mouth; but not just about the deal with Carlos. It must be some bizarre kind of record, but Carlos wasn’t the first man to die on me. My husband—my late husband, Maurice—died in the act too. Two men, two heart attacks. Yeah. Having done it again, I was a regular black widow. Maybe I should just shut the coochie down.

  “When I’m looking forward to coming into work, you know the weekend was pretty bad,” I offered as I turned my computer on to begin my dreaded day of collections here at our company, Bram-Lect on Briar-park Drive in the Westchase area of town. If my debt hadn’t spiraled out of control after Maurice died over a year ago, I’d have quit by now. But with the lack of two incomes, my student loan debt, and no life insurance, I was pushed into a corner from which I’d found no escape. Funny how my job was hounding people in similar situations as mine. I guessed that made me an expert, and why I was so good at what I did. Didn’t make me any happier doing it though. If my coworkers knew about my recent dating history and how it ended, the office scuttlebutt would’ve been off the charts. And, child, this place could gossip with the best of ’em.

  “Damn. Furreal?” Miss Nancy said as she took a sip from her coffee mug then grimaced. “Girl, you need to get out. Have some fun. Maurice would want you to.”

  “Uh huh,” I commented as the big Windows symbol sprang to life on my monitor. “I just wanna bury my nose in these accounts and try to bring in some money. For somebody at least.”

  “Not so fast, girlfriend,” she chimed. “You forgot about the dog and pony show today?”

  “Huh?” I balked with a big frown. “Oooh. That’s right. Damn. Big boss comin’?”

  “Yep. Already here. You didn’t put it on your Outlook calendar?” she asked before moving on without waiting for confirmation. “Karyn picked him up from Hobby last night. Took him out to dinner at Perry’s by Memorial City from what I hear. And probably had her own meeting with him, too, back at the hotel,” she joked, making a motion as if sucking a dick. We all talked about how overly flirtatious our office manager, Karyn, was in his presence.

  “You nasty,” I teased while allowing a smile to form for the first time in days. “No. I didn’t put the meeting on my calendar. Too much stuff on my mind. Other stuff,” I answered.

  “Well, get yourself together. We got at least an hour of bullshit ahead of us. And if it goes through lunch, you know it’s gonna be cheap. Karyn alway
s gets those sandwich platters from Walmart. Now she know she could come through with some catfish or somethin’.”

  The seven members of our collection team were summoned to the large conference room on the fifth floor of our twelve-story building. Already seated along one side of the large cherry wood table were: Rhonda, our immediate supervisor; Karyn, the officer manager; and the “big kahuna,” Roy Bramlett, our company president and owner of Bram-Lect Collections. Roy was wrapping up a phone conversation as we entered. The tall, redheaded fiftyish man smiled and motioned for us to be seated, whispering that it would be only a moment longer.

  I slid into a seat opposite the big three while Miss Nancy plunked down her coffee mug to my right. While we all waited for “Our Boy Roy” to finish his talk so we could begin, Karyn distributed the agenda around the table. Like me, most of us just wanted to hear about the bonus we’d earned for our hard work this quarter.

  “No. No, Marie. I already told you, I’m in a meeting and a Porsche is out the question,” Roy said into his phone to somebody who was probably either his daughter or wife; maybe his mistress. “Did you see your tuition bill for this year at Duke? Well, then you know a Porsche isn’t going to happen.”

  Okay. Definitely, not his wife. Still could’ve been a mistress if he liked ’em young . . . and on a meal plan.

  Roy continued his personal call on our time, his monogrammed cufflinks visible as he instructed, “Marie, tell your mother to take you by the BMW dealership and pick out what you want. But make sure it’s reasonable. I’ll call Larry and tell him to be expecting you. Uh huh. Uh huh. I love you too. Bye.”

  The room was uncomfortably silent after listening to this bullshit. Miss Nancy bumped her knee against mine beneath the table, to which I subtly nodded.

  “Tell you what; I’ll take a Chevy Silverado,” Matthew, one of the other collectors, mumbled under his breath in his lazy East Texas drawl.

  I stifled a giggle.

  “So sorry about that,” Roy offered as he stowed his phone and nodded at Karyn. “Kids. We all know how they can be.”

  I knew what most of us were thinking, but we held our tongues while waiting to get to the good part of this meeting. Our team brought in the most money, and the percentage bonus I’d calculated based on that was going to take care of my most urgent bills.

  “And with that out of the way, I’m sure all of you know Roy,” Karyn said with a brief introduction and acknowledgment of the man in the tailored gray suit beside her. “Roy has been meeting with all the collection teams around the country and has saved the best for last. Roy?”

  “Thank you, Karyn,” he said with a wink that made me think of Miss Nancy’s inappropriate joke. “I have to say that it’s always good to make it back down to Texas. Good steak and darn good barbecue. Even if it gets too hot here for this Illinois farm boy,” he said, yukking it up with an implied “aww shucks” at the end that only made Karyn laugh.

  Get to the good part, Roy, I thought.

  “And as you know, I wanted to thank each of you teams personally for the job you’ve been doing. Despite the tough economic times and trying workloads, you’ve persevered.” Roy stood up from the table and applauded all of us in his goofy Midwestern way.

  Karyn quickly followed suit, but our supervisor Rhonda remained seated.

  “We’re just glad to contribute toward the company surpassing its goals, Mr. Bramlett,” Rhonda said, echoing what we were all kinda thinking as the big boss and Karyn sat back down.

  “And you certainly have. Especially the Houston office. That’s why that makes this visit so much harder,” Roy commented as he cleared his throat and fiddled with the papers before him.

  Noticing the sudden somber turn, all of our ears perked up, including our supervisor who appeared blindsided. Karyn sat nervously at Roy’s side probably wishing she was somewhere blowing him instead.

  “I’m sorry,” Roy said as he cleared his throat. “But the current economic climate has led us to temporarily suspend our bonus program.”

  “I . . . I don’t understand,” I said before realizing it was spoken aloud. On my phone display was a missed call from one of my creditors. After this meeting, I planned on having an answer for them.

  Now, thanks to Roy’s announcement, I wouldn’t.

  “Excuse me? What does that mean for us?” one of our teammates, Marisol, asked, knowing damn well what he said, but daring him to break it down again.

  “It means we ain’t gettin’ paid our bonuses we earned,” Miss Nancy said as she tapped her coffee mug on the table.

  “Exactly,” Karyn chimed in. “But is it our sincere hope that this belt tightening is just a temporary setback. So with that said, we managed to come up with something to show our appreciation for what you do day in and day out in such a thankless environment.”

  “Gift cards? Motherfuckin’ gift cards?” I spewed unapologetically as me and Miss Nancy shuffled back to our cubicles along with the rest of our stunned collection team. “A Chili’s gift card ain’t gonna pay my bills.”

  “Well, if they thought this was gonna make me bust my ass, then they’re crazy. This sumbitch on the phone talkin’ ’bout BMWs and Porsches then turns around and says ‘I can’t pay y’all, but here’s a fuckin’ gift card’,” Miss Nancy cursed while imitating Roy in a most unflattering way.

  The grumbling subsided and everybody got back to work, harassing and threatening for the company’s money, yet, I couldn’t move. I came to work thinking it might be an escape, but it just made my mood that much worse. I stared at my monitor, fingers refusing to respond to my commands. Fuck it. Fuck it all. If Rhonda was monitoring our time on the phones, my graph was going to be a flat line.

  “Artemis, you okay?” Miss Nancy asked as she reached over and tapped me on the shoulder.

  “No, I’m not. Haven’t been in a while,” I replied as I looked over at her. I was drowning beneath a wave of frustration with no life preserver in sight.

  And sometimes one needs to breathe.

  I reached beneath my desk and grabbed my purse. Ignoring whatever was running on my computer, I depressed the power button until it all disappeared, not bothering to properly shut down a single program. After locking up and turning off my lamp, I rose from my seat.

  “Where you goin’?” Miss Nancy asked, looking at the clock. We weren’t due a break for several more hours.

  “Use my gift card,” I answered flatly. “I’m suddenly hungry.”

  “You coming back today?”

  “Girl, I really don’t know,” I replied as I left my job, not sure if I was ever returning or whether I’d be welcomed back.

  Chapter 4

  I was barefoot and humming to myself, my heels dangling off my finger in one hand, as I turned the key in the lock.

  I came home with my to-go bag full of leftovers from Chili’s, a mingled smell of Southwestern fried mediocrity escaping it. Walking out on my job like that was never so wrong while feeling so damn right. But most of my generous gift card balance had gone on margaritas anyway, leaving me feeling pretty much indifferent at the moment.

  I put my purse down and laid my car keys along with cell phone on the counter. I’d smartly silenced it, but I knew there were a ton of missed calls from people at work worrying about me. If I still had my job, I’d deal with it later. For now, I wanted nothing more than to catch up on crazy Kenya Moore from The Real Housewives of Atlanta’s shenanigans, which I’d DVRed last night. She knew good ’n’ damn well that guy didn’t want to marry her.

  “Hmm,” I mused as I turned on the TV and read the message across the screen telling me to call my provider. It spurred me to get up off the couch and walk over to a pile of mail I’d been intentionally avoiding. There, in the third envelope from the top of the stack, was my final notice from Comcast. No need for warnings anymore. My cable was officially turned off so there would be no Kenya, no NeNe, no Phaedra nor any fine-ass Apollo either.

  “Ain’t this some shit,” I grumbl
ed just as the house phone on the wall next to me chirped.

  Since I wasn’t going to be able to watch my show right now, I decided to entertain whoever might be looking for me. Besides, if it rang any longer, I’d have a headache.

  “Hello?” I answered, already annoyed.

  “Artemis, what are you doing at home?”

  “Besides talking to you, Mama? Trying to have a stress-free day. Guess I failed,” I replied to Ruth with a heavy sigh. I should’ve checked the caller ID first.

  “Oh. I tried reaching you at work first and when you didn’t answer your cell phone, I thought I might get lucky.”

  “Why? Want to yell at me over a dead man who ain’t even Anitra’s anyway?” I taunted. “I’m so over the two of you ganging up on me and treating me like I’m a redheaded stepchild. No . . . that’s not fair to redheaded stepchildren. Y’all treat me worse. Matter of fact, I’m so over everything right now.”

  “What are you saying? I hope you’re not talking suicidal. Lawd, I knew something was wrong when you weren’t at work. Especially the way they work y’all. I should’ve put you on my prayer list sooner.” She tsked.

  “No, Mama. I’m not thinking about ending my life,” I said wearily. “Just ending the bullshit. That’s why I’m not at a fuckin’ job right now that takes me for granted and doesn’t pay me shit!”

  “Artemis!” Ruth howled.

  “What, Mama? Ain’t like you haven’t heard me curse before. Damn,” I grumbled.

  “Have you been drinking?” she asked.

  “Save your false concern for the public eye. I ain’t Anitra, remember?”

  “What does your bad behavior have to do with your sister? You can’t blame everything on her,” she said.

  “You mean like you do with me? Even before this stuff with Carlos, you were always comparing us, Mama. And not in a good way. Always telling me what I’m doing wrong or what I need to do to take better care of myself. I’m sorry I’m not Anitra, but I can only be me. And I’m sorry Daddy left you, but I had nothing to do with that.”