A Hustler's Queen Read online

  “Daddy, you shouldn’t call Kevin names. He really is a good dude and definitely not a hood. Besides, I’m twenty, and whether or not I go out on a date with him should be my decision.”

  “Hmmm,” he said. Before he could elaborate on his sarcastic sound, Keisha, another one of my old schoolmates, pushed her way through the glass door. Dad exited toward the back.

  “What’s up?” Keisha said, chewing on some gum.

  “Same ol’ thing. Work, work, around here.” I sighed.

  “Girl, for real that’s all I see you do. Shit, what you need to do is get out in this sun. It’s baking but it’s beautiful. Ain’t no way in the hell I could be in this damn shop all day.” Keisha swung her sixteen-inch weave off her shoulder and pulled off her sunglasses. She was always dressed to the nines when I saw her, and she always looked like she had somewhere to go. But she was in the dry cleaners often, picking up clothes. Everything we cleaned for her was name brand. I’m talking that expensive stuff. So I always took extra special care with her things.

  I felt what she had said about me spending so much time at the cleaners, but this business was our survival. And now was not the time to focus simply on myself. But I didn’t have to explain that to anyone. So I replied, “I feel you. Let me get your clothes.” After grabbing her order, I took her money and wished her on her way.

  I watched as she bounced back out into the LA streets, where everything was possible. I briefly wondered when my time was coming. It had been two years since graduation and a year longer than Dad had all but promised I would be in college. That had not happened, though, and two years later, I was still working full-time with no mention of college. But to be honest, not much had changed business-wise, and I knew that. Grabbing the UCLA catalog off the counter next to me, I thumbed through and glanced at the updated list of classes. I was really considering changing my major from communications to business, when and if I ever did get into college. Maybe then I could help my dad with the business side of the dry cleaners, help the business thrive and be successful.

  Dad came out of his office and saw me thumbing through the book. “Don’t you worry, Sweet Pea, the time is coming soon. I promise you that.” I knew he could tell I was restless. I tried daily to hide it, but sometimes it was difficult.

  “I know . . . You know, I was thinking about maybe going for a business major when I do go.”

  “You changing your major?” It was apparent in his tone and gesture he was shocked. I had been full of passion about becoming a news anchor since I was in middle school. It’s all I had ever talked about. When I was only twelve, I would stand by the television with my karaoke set and act as if I was out on the scene reporting the news. “What about your dream of becoming a news anchor? You can’t just give up on that dream.”

  I chewed my bottom lip for a minute. “I know, and it still is my dream, but I was thinking with a business degree, I could help you with the dry cleaners. Get this place to its full potential. I know it can be done, Daddy.” Regardless how bad business was at the dry cleaners, I was still optimistic about its future.

  “I do too. And we must never lose hope.” He looked around the place like he expected it to cosign. “Listen, I know you really want to attend UCLA. And believe me, I’m still working to get you there. So I was thinking . . . how about you attend community college for a year? The tuition would be much cheaper. I could make it happen.”

  I had to admit the thought of starting college, period, was exciting. But I was a bit apprehensive about community college. Sometimes their curriculum was not the best. And a school’s accreditation was a big deal to me. But beggars couldn’t be choosers; he was giving me options. “I’ll think about it” was my response.

  “I know it’s not ideal for you, Sweet Pea. Just do me a favor and look into it before you rule it out.”

  “No worries, Dad. I will.” I smiled to reassure him.

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. Why don’t you head over to Italiano and pick us up some sandwiches for lunch?”

  “Now that I’m game for.” I reached my hand out for the cash.

  * * *

  Once outside in the sun, I could see exactly what Keisha was talking about, it was nice out. Hot but beautiful, and seeing all the people coming and going gave me energy. So instead of heading straight to Italiano to pick up those sandwiches, I decided to turn a few corners first and just relax. I didn’t do this often because most of my time was spent at the shop. Kevin was heavy on my mind though. I was really feeling him and seriously considering taking him up on his offer to go out on a date. But it bothered me that Daddy didn’t see any potential in him. Maybe if he got to know Kevin better he could see that he was not a “hood,” as he described him. And even if nothing else happened, a few dates would put a smile on my face. And that would be enough for me. So with that, my mind was made up.

  After picking up the sandwiches, I headed back to the shop. I would convince my dad that Kevin was a nice guy. And that I would go on a date with him. Pulling the door open at the cleaners, Dad was nowhere in sight.

  “I’m back, Daddy,” I announced. The door opened behind me and a customer walked in. “Hello,” I greeted her.

  “I’m here to pick up for Lisa Walker.” The young lady laid her ticket on the counter.

  “Okay, give me a minute and I’ll grab that for you.” I walked behind the counter to set the food down, grab her ticket, then get her order. “That will be $69.23.” After I took care of the customer, Dad still had not come out of the back. Hungry, I walked toward the bathroom to wash my hands so that I could eat. “Daddy!” I yelled again.

  My hand on the bathroom doorknob, I paused. There was a strange silence and Dad had yet to answer me. Turning around, I made a few strides to his office. “Dad,” I said again, and my breath seemed to catch in my chest. His body was lying between his desk and the wall. I stepped forward. “Agh!” I screamed, as I realized he was lying in a pool of blood. “What’s wrong, Daddy?” I dropped to my knees, crying. I tried to get back on my feet but my legs were weak; I reached for the phone on his desk and dialed 911.

  “Please send help. I think my dad has been shot,” I cried into the phone.

  The ambulance arrived along with detectives. The detectives helped me to my feet. They took me to the front by the counter. They tried to ask me questions. Distraught, I tried to explain I had just come back when I saw my father on the floor. I watched as the paramedics loaded him into the ambulance, then pronounced him dead. My whole world stopped in that moment. Everything seemed distant and surreal.

  “Ma’am, do you have anyone you could call?” I read the detective’s lips because my hearing seemed to have stopped working.

  With the biggest lump in my throat imaginable, I mouthed, “No.” For the first time in my life, I realized that I was alone. I had no one. Dad was the only family or friend that I had. I was utterly and completely alone.

  Chapter 4

  It had been a week since I had buried my beloved father. The whole thing was so surreal. Somehow, I had found the sanity to put the funeral together alone. It was the hardest thing I had ever done. But I did what he would have expected me to do, and was strong and responsible. Thankfully, everything had turned out alright. All of Dad’s friends had showed up. It was mostly his bowling partners, a few guys he served in the military with, Earl—a longtime friend—and a host of his loyal customers from the dry cleaners. Even Katrina had showed up; she cried a lot and she said that Dad had been like a father to her. I was sad to hear her say she was moving to Texas with her auntie. She had found a job out there and would be leaving in a week. I was happy for her though.

  I still could not believe someone had shot my dad. According to the police, it was a robbery gone bad. I would have never thought anyone would do that to him. He was the nicest man anyone could ever hope to meet. His only flaw was that he could be brutally honest. But other than that, he would give someone the shirt off his back. I prayed t
he murderer would be caught and charged. I hurt so bad; I was sure I would never get over losing him.

  I knew that I needed to go on, and I tried. Finally, a few weeks later, the cleaners was released from being a crime scene. CTS, the crime scene cleanup crew, had come through and cleaned it up. But I hired some cleaners to come in to clean Dad’s office again. I just felt better knowing it was spic-and-span as could be. I reopened the dry cleaners as I knew he would have wanted. But being back there on a daily basis was just as difficult as I had imagined it would be. Every day, all of my thoughts were clouded with thoughts of my dad, from the time I got up until I went to bed at night. Being at the cleaners didn’t help the situation. Unable to shake the sadness and pain, I did something he would not have approved of: I put the Closed sign on the door. Gathering my purse and a few papers off the counter, I prepared to leave, not certain if I would ever return. Just as I was about to head toward the door, I noticed Kevin pulling on the doorknob. Dropping low, I ducked behind the counter and hid. I had not seen him since the day Dad was murdered. And at the moment, I was in no mood to talk to anyone. I stayed down as he continued to pull on the doorknob. The noise soon stopped. Gradually, I peeked out from the behind the counter and thankfully he was nowhere in sight. Breathing a sigh of relief, I locked up and made a quick break for my car.

  Back at Dad’s house, I found a check in the mailbox for the insurance settlement. Inside the house, I dropped it on the living room coffee table. Feeling drained, I headed straight to my bedroom, where I threw myself across my bed and cried. The feeling of being overwhelmed was starting to suffocate me. I felt as if death was all around me and there was no relief. The sun shining through my window made me feel as if I were lying in the pit of hell. Dragging my shaky, weak body from my bed, I pulled my curtains closed. And as far as I was concerned, the curtains could remain that way. I was shutting myself inside forever.

  * * *

  Two weeks had all but flown by and, honestly, I was still in the same head space. The only thing I could bring myself to do was shower. Eating wasn’t that important so I barely did it. Sleeping, on the other hand, was my comfort, and for a minute I was convinced I would never get tired of it, but I was wrong. For the past two days, I had become restless. With my dad’s voice in the back of my mind urging me on, I realized that I could not close myself off from the outside world. As much as I hated to admit it, I still existed. Throwing on my robe, I dragged myself to the front door and then outside. The sun met me with brutal accusations, almost as if it was punishing me for trying to shut it out. Blinking my eyes several times, I had to adjust to the brightness. Slowly, I made my way to the mailbox.

  Just as I imagined, it was packed with weeks’ worth of unopened mail. One more day and the mailman would probably have stopped delivery. After emptying it, I made my way back inside and shut the door. With the sun on the other side of the door, I felt empty and deprived. Dumping the mail on the coffee table, I made my way over to the curtains and gladly pulled them open. Relief tingled all over me. As I thumbed through the mail on the table, a letter from Faulkner’s Bank grabbed my attention. I peeled back the seal only to find out they were threatening to foreclose on the cleaners, which got my attention. Another one from Faulkner’s also threatened to foreclose on the house.

  “Damn!” I yelled. I threw the papers to the floor. As hard as Dad and I had worked and sacrificed, we were still going to lose. “What can I do, Daddy?” I cried out. Sitting on the couch, I felt defeated. I cried until I felt drained. I tried to clear my mind so that I could think. Then it hit me: I had a choice to make, a hard one at best, but it had to be made. I could only keep one. I had enough money to do that, and that beat losing them both. I decided to save the house I was born and raised in. I would use the rest of the insurance settlement I had received to pay it off. The cleaners would have to shut down. Just even thinking about it consumed me with guilt. What would Dad think? He would be heartbroken. But I could not worry about that now. I was here, alive, and had to survive. He had left me with no choice. I knew the business was suffering, but I didn’t know the house was too. How much debt did we really have? Clearly there was no way he was ever going to be able to send me to UCLA, at least not anytime soon. Why hadn’t he just been honest with me? I would have understood.

  Chapter 5

  It had been an agonizing process, but I was glad the day to close the dry cleaners had finally arrived. I was sad yet plainly ready to be done with it. It had taken weeks, but the equipment had been sold to a cleaners owner who swore he could repair it. I didn’t argue with him; I needed the money, which was used to help pay off some of the debts. Today I had come in to finish up the last of the packing. I tried to be swift about it because the people from the bank were supposed to be bringing by some potential buyers to look at the place.

  I was about to be done with Dad’s office, but just looking around at the bare walls that usually displayed his business license, certifications, and the awards he had won over the years from the community was so hard. I fought back tears. I pulled out the bottom drawer of his desk and I fell into his desk chair, unable to control the tears that flowed down my cheeks, as I saw the picture he had of me. I was around five years old in the picture, outside of the cleaners, riding my big wheel. I missed my dad so much.

  I wiped at my tears and attempted to dry my face as they continued to flow. “Hey, Precious . . .” I stood up in shock as I heard someone yell my name. I wasn’t sure who it could be as the front door should have been locked. And the stuck-up Realtor, Nancy, who worked for the bank and had the only other set of keys, would never yell my name. I bent down and reached to the right of the desk to pick up the bat that Dad had kept for protection. He had a gun too, but I figured the bat would do.

  Tiptoeing to the front of the cleaners, my nervousness quickly subsided when I saw that it was only Keisha. “Girl, what the hell you doing back there? I almost left, I thought nobody was here. I need to drop off these jeans.”

  I’m sure the look on my face said I was confused. Clearly she had seen the sign that we were closing up. “Umm, we are closing up. Didn’t you see . . . I put the sign on the door.” I pointed toward the door.

  “Closing? Why y’all closing so early? I thought you stay open to like seven thirty?”

  “No, we are closing for good. That door should have been locked . . . at least I thought I had locked it.”

  “Oh, my bad. Damn, I did not see that sign. But for real though, why is Mr. Larry shutting down the best dry cleaners in the area? What we gone do over here? Cause I refuse to fuck wit’ that cleaners up the block. They be fuckin’ up people’s shit,” she said. I could do nothing but stare at her though. I heard all the things coming out of her mouth and I had to admit she was right. Dad was one of the best and he had loyal customers. Business had only slowed because the machines were not the best anymore. But what shocked me most was that Keisha was speaking about Dad like he was still alive.

  I cleared my throat because it was hard, but I had to inform her. “Keisha, I’m the one closing the shop. My dad was murdered. I thought you knew.” Talking about it made me feel as if it was happening all over again. I felt sick to my stomach and I grabbed my abdomen to try to control my emotions.

  “Wait, when?” Keisha seem genuinely shocked. “I ain’t heard shit about it.”

  “It’s been about . . .” I hesitated and swallowed to keep from crying or screaming out. The pain was just unbearable. I took a deep breath to finish my sentence. “It happened almost two months ago.”

  “Precious, I’m so sorry. Damn, I ain’t heard shit about this. But I been out of town for a few months.”

  The tears again flowed like a faucet and my body become so weak I had no choice but to lean up against the nearest wall. But I could no longer hold myself up and I slid to the floor.

  “Hey, hey. Everything gone be cool.” Keisha dropped to her knees and hugged me.

  Keisha sat with me until I felt better, and I
really appreciated it. I had no one that I could share my emotions with. But it had started to get late and I realized that I really needed to finish up before the Realtor showed up. The last thing I was in the mood for was to watch potential buyers scout the place. That I could live without.

  “Well, I guess I’ll get up and finish packing up the last few things. The Realtor is coming by any minute now.”

  “A’ight, but look, you should come by my apartment sometimes; we could hang out.”

  “Yeah, maybe once I get everything taken care of.” I was apprehensive. I really wasn’t used to hanging out with anyone. And with my emotions being all over the place, I wasn’t sure if it was such a good idea. But she had been nice to me, so I didn’t want to be mean.

  “Tell you what. You put your number in my phone and I’ll put mine in yours.”

  “Okay,” I agreed as she handed me her phone and I handed her mine. After retrieving the last few things from Dad’s drawers, I packed his Ford F-150 with his stuff. I walked around the dry cleaners one last time. I tried as hard as I could to pack the memories safe in the back of my mind. I locked up the place and I walked away without looking back, because if I looked back I was sure I would throw up again from regret.

  Chapter 6

  Being at home all day every day was turning out to be a challenge for me. Not that I had a life before, but at least I’d had the dry cleaners to look forward to. To keep busy, I cleaned the entire house from top to bottom, nothing in the house was left unturned. I welcomed the sun as I pulled back the curtains in every room. It gave me energy. Suddenly, I had the taste for my favorite type of doughnut, Krispy Kreme. I slid into some shorts, a tight T-shirt that read Girl Beat, and a pair of flip-flops. I was out. By the time I reached Krispy Kreme, my taste for a doughnut had risen to a craving.