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That’s because she was too busy being her messy self, stirring shit up with you. Of course I keep this to myself. Between you and me, I’m still surprised Paris went off on her the way she says she did. That’s so unlike her. But, of course, Paris being Paris, she did in fact call her to apologize. And our mother, in true fashion, made her feel guiltier than she already did. I’m sorry, mother or not, she needs to learn boundaries. And she needs to learn when to keep her comments to herself.
“This is one of them last-minute trips,” Daddy explains. I laugh to myself, realizing he’s taking his vacation while she’s on hers. Porsha asks who is all going to Vegas. “Well, let’s see. It’s gonna be Lucky, Fanny, your mother, and I think Penny is flying out.” He chuckles. “I overheard your mother on the phone saying something about Penny saying she wouldn’t be able to stomach more than three days with all of them sitting around talking about everybody so she’d fly out toward the end of the week. That way she can miss most of the gossip.”
We laugh, knowingly. “I can only imagine what Mom had to say when she said that.” He laughs, telling us he heard her say she needs to keep her prissy, uptight-ass home then.
“Sounds exactly like her,” Porsha says, still laughing. “I can see them now, making faces and giving Aunt Penny the finger when she isn’t looking.” We crack up with laughter, knowing exactly how messy Lucky and Fanny can be after tossing back a few drinks. We start reminiscing about the time they had all been drinking at Fanny’s fiftieth birthday bash and one of them had said something that wasn’t to Aunt Penny’s liking so she picked up Fanny’s birthday cake while our mother was lighting the candles and smashed it into Fanny’s face. The two of them got to fist-fighting, swinging each other all around the ballroom. It took my father and four uncles to pry them two apart. Aunt Fanny’s titties were hanging out of her fancy party dress and she had cake and frosting all over her face. It was a hot mess! They didn’t speak for months after that.
“Let’s hope and pray they all get along and don’t end up tearing Vegas up while they’re out there.” We all agree. We talk and laugh a few minutes more before finalizing our plans to spend the day with our father. We decide to go into the city on Wednesday. Paris says she’ll close the boutique early that day. And Porsha and I indicate we will clear our schedules for the whole day to ensure nothing comes up to keep us from spending time with him.
“Your old man loves you beauties.”
“Aww, Daddy,” we coo in unison. “We love you, too.”
“Talk to y’all tomorrow,” he says. We give him kisses through the phone, then wait for him to disconnect.
“Can you imagine the four of them in Vegas together without getting into it about something?” I ask, laughing.
Paris laughs with me. “Not with booze around; that’s for sure.”
“The only one any of them have an issue with is Aunt Penny ’cause she doesn’t entertain their messiness,” Porsha states.
“Oh, don’t get it twisted,” I say. “You know Lucky and Fanny go at it, too.”
Porsha agrees. “Yeah, true. But not as much as they do with Aunt Penny. They act like they can’t stand her sometimes.”
Paris laughs. “Girl, it’s the other way around. You know Aunt Penny isn’t having it.”
“Promise me,” I say, getting up from my desk and walking out into the hallway to go downstairs to the kitchen, “we don’t end up like them when we get their age; talking about any-and-everybody, minding everyone else’s business but our own. And fist-fighting each other.”
“Oh, puhleeze; shoot me and put me outta my misery now,” Porsha says, laughing. “Listen, y’all, if I didn’t live with you hookers, I’d stay on the phone with you all day, cackling. But I have appointments up the ass today, so I gotta get cracking. I’ll see y’all tonight.”
“Ohhhh, noooo, Miss Lady,” I say. “Wait one minute. Don’t think I didn’t notice you tiptoeing in at five in the morning with your hair tossed all over your head. And I know you weren’t bumping pussies with Angel, either.”
She laughs. “I wasn’t tiptoeing. I was limping. If you’d been paying close attention, you would’ve seen I had one shoe on and one off. And, no I wasn’t laid up with Angel. What the hell you doing spying on me any-damn-way? Ya nosey-ass shoulda been in bed asleep.”
“Hooker, I wasn’t spying on you. I happened to be looking out of my window when you pulled into the driveway.”
“Mmmhmmm, lies. Tell me anything. But to answer your question, Miss Nosey Ass, I was out test driving some dick.”
“And the outcome?” I ask.
“Yes, do tell,” Paris chimes in.
Porsha sucks her teeth. “Look, I gotta go. My appointment is here. You hookers can get the scoop when I get home to—”
“Well, damn,” I say, cutting her off. “Don’t leave us hanging. At least let us know if he tore the pussy up. Geesh.”
“Let’s just say, ‘I think I can, I think I can.’ His fine-ass was The Little Engine That Could.”
Paris and I laugh. “Oh, Lord. This sounds like something we should discuss over drinks tonight.”
“Exactly. Now, leave me the hell alone so I can make my money. Talk to y’all heifers later.”
“See you tonight,” Paris and I say in unison. She hangs up.
“Her ass is a mess,” I say, thinking about her comment. I laugh. “I’m dying to hear all about her night out with the Little Engine That Could.”
“Girl, I can only imagine. He either had a little dick or...”
