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Chanel couldn’t believe that this was her home. It was neat, quiet, spacious, and it was comfortable. Most importantly, she didn’t have to share it with her evil sisters and her wicked mother. The two-be
droom, two-bathroom apartment in the Bronx with pre-war details and a 9-to-5 elevator attendant was a far cry from her family’s project apartment in Brooklyn.
For an hour, Chanel danced around the entire apartment in her panties and bra. She laughed and smiled like a kid in a toy store, wide-eyed with excitement. She didn’t know what to do with herself.
Mateo kept a very tidy place, one of the many things she loved about him. Still, it definitely needed a woman’s touch, and she couldn’t wait to add a piece of her personality to the apartment.
Chanel was able to stretch out on the couch and watch a full movie in peace. She added her culinary touch to the kitchen, making the apartment come alive with her delicious cooking. She took lingering, warm bubble baths and listened to her favorite songs through the pimped out system.
It was paradise. It was what she always wanted; something she could call her own. But most of her excitement came from knowing she was flying to Hawaii in two weeks and getting married to the man she loved.
For the moment, Mateo was out of town on business, so she had to hold down the fort. She wanted to invite Mecca over for a girls night of junk food eating, movie watching, and girl talk. Mateo was explicit that no one could know where they lived, but she trusted Mecca to come over to keep her company. Unfortunately, Mecca had to cancel on her because she had a date. Chanel wasn’t upset; she wanted her friend to find love too. She wanted her friend to be happy.
Enjoying her Saturday afternoon, Chanel snacked on cookies and peanut butter and took pleasure in lounging in the bedroom and watching a few Netflix movies. When her cell phone rang, she was surprised to see it was Charlie. Why is she calling me?
She answered the call with some reluctance, asking fretfully, “Is everything okay at home?”
“Yeah, things are fine,” said Charlie. “We miss you, Chanel.”
“Y’all miss me?” Chanel replied with skepticism. Or do y’all miss picking on me?
“I’m not gonna lie, Chanel. It’s not the same without you around.”
I bet.
“How’s Bacardi?”
“Miserable,” Charlie said. “She’s still broke and drinking; don’t know what to do wit’ herself. But I’m really happy for you, Chanel. You definitely makin’ sumthin’ out ya life, fo’ real.”
“Thank you.”
Although Chanel was cautious about Charlie’s unexpected hospitality, being the little sister of the three, she yearned to be wanted and accepted by her sisters. There was a part of her that wanted their approval—and she wanted to show off somewhat.
“So, is Mateo treatin’ you okay?”
“Things are great.”
“Love is a wonderful thing, ain’t it?”
“It is, Charlie. I’m happy.”
“You sound happy. But, baby sis, I called because I want to truly apologize to you for everything I put you through. I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. I guess . . . I guess I was jealous of you.”
“You were jealous of me?” Chanel asked with doubt. “Why?”
“You’re a beautiful black woman with the perfect skin tone, and you’re smart and humble. You’re so many things that I’m not.”
Chanel didn’t know what to say. Was it true? Was Charlie really jealous of her all these years?
“Listen, can we just talk?”
“We’re talking now, Charlie.”
“I mean, can we come over—Claire and I—to sit down and have a sisterly talk? I really want that, Chanel—to end the beef between us,” Charlie said with conviction.
“I never had any beef with you or Claire,” said Chanel sincerely.
“I know. It was us being the assholes all the time. But let’s start over, okay? You and I.”
