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“Well, I can hold my—”
“No, you did not bring some heifer up in here!” said a woman I’d noticed staring at Bird’s back from the other side of the bar, coming up behind Bird. She was petite but thick. She had an attitude in her face. Her lips were scrunched up like she’d just bitten into a piece of sour candy. She had on an out-of-season rainbow print dress with matching, too-long acrylic nails.
Bird closed his eyes for a second when he heard her voice. He didn’t even turn around to see her. “Don’t start this shit,” he said tiredly, looking down at the floor beneath his barstool.
I didn’t know if I should look at the woman or get up and walk out. She was eyeballing me hard and didn’t look like she meant to say anything good. She was obviously one of Bird’s lady friends.
“Start shit? No, you started shit when you brought this”—she waved her nails at me—“thing up in here. Up in our spot.” She was in her early twenties. I could tell by the way her tits sat up in the dress with no bra, and sweat underneath them.
Now, I may not have been raised ghetto, but I was certainly raised country. I noticed that she’d called me “this” and the country girl in me was ready to “go cow tipping” on her ass, but I hadn’t had a fight in fifteen years and I wasn’t about to go to jail for fighting over my mechanic, who, by the way, clearly wasn’t trying to correct Ms. Thing and tell her my name—well, maybe that was a good thing.
“This ain’t our spot,” Bird said.
“The mother fuck it ain’t. You ain’t been around me or your kids. And they miss they daddy.”
I guess Rainbow dress saw my eyes narrow, because she announced, “Both of your kids.” (I honestly expected a higher number.)
“Jazz, give it a break.”
“First of all, you get my mother-fucking name right—it’s Jaza-maraya. And second of all, I’ll give it a break when you give me my mother-fucking child support! Don’t make me take your ass to court again.”
Bird actually looked like he was about to start laughing. He turned to Jaza finally and said, “Please stop. You’re embarrassing me.”
“I’m embarrassing you? No! You’re embarrassing me! Up in here with this . . . this . . . this . . . white girl.”
“Hold up!” The country girl in me would not be exorcised another minute. Now, I admit that I’d gone bourgeoisie, and I wasn’t trying to get locked up, but there was no way I was going to just sit there and let her call me a white girl to my face. She’d gone in on me and it was no longer about Bird and his kids and not paying child support.
“Hold up?” Jaza started laughing. “I think we got us a fighter!” She threw her purse down on the floor and went right into a fighting position. I was about to get off my stool, but Bird got up and stood in front of me.
Jaza fell laughing into his seat. “I got her ass! I got her ass good!” she said, laughing.
“What?” I was up and ready to climb over Bird to get at her.
“Whoa!” Bird said, holding me in my seat. “See, Jazz, she’s taking you seriously. I told you to stop playing.”
“Playing?” I said.
Ronnie came over, shaking her head at Jazmine, and set our drinks on the counter.
“I’m Jazmine. Bird’s baby cousin.” Jazmine reached over Bird’s shoulder to shake my hand.
It took me a second and a long look into Bird’s eyes before I could believe it and shake her hand. “Your cousin?”
“Baby cousin,” Bird said. “Immature baby cousin.” He turned around to her.
“No. Actress baby cousin.” She rolled her eyes at Bird and looked around at me. “I’m about to be in a Tyler Perry movie soon . . . as soon as he discovers me. Getting ready for my audition. Cousin Bird here pays for my acting classes downtown. I like to show him that he’s getting his money’s worth. What you think?”
“I was convinced,” I admitted. “I was ready to fight you.”
“Wow!” Jazmine said and her eyes sparkled. “I’m going to get an Oscar before I turn twenty-five. That’s my goal. If I can believe it, I can achieve it. So, what you do?”
“I—”
“Jazmine, get out of her business. Don’t you have somewhere else you need to be?” Bird said.
“Yeah. Right here.” Jazmine rolled her eyes.
“I’m a wedding planner.”
