The Scammer(69)

Anita nods, raising an eyebrow, and returns to her chicken.



* * *




After I fail at frying, Anita banishes me to the living room to watch TV with the kiddies. A movie just ends when Nick and Richie return. The sight of me makes them both bust out laughing.

“You got kicked out, huh,” Richie says, cackling.

Nick smiles at me just as we hear Anita’s voice.

“Come on now, Nicky, you gotta help me with this damn ziti. If you don’t hurry up, we won’t eat until Good Friday!”

“Be right back,” he says, leaving Richie and me alone.

Richie narrows his eyes, dramatically combing through the beard that doesn’t exist.

“Hmmm. You look like you got questions.”

“You look like you got answers,” I shoot back.

He swings his arms toward the front door. “Come on out and step into my office.”

We walk to the end of the driveway, shooing away bees and late fall pollen floating in the air.

“Are you in school?” I ask.

He nods. “Oh yeah. Xavier. Full ride. Mom didn’t play games about education.”

Another HBCU. Of course. So much about Nick is making sense within just a few short hours of being here.

Richie stops and procures out of the dented mailbox what looks like a plastic bottle of water with the label rubbed off and two cups.

“THIS! This is old-fashioned moonshine. You don’t look like the type that would know nothing about this. Try a little.”

“Seriously? We haven’t even had dinner yet.”

He pours a little in a cup. “What them white folks say, ‘It’s five o’clock somewhere.’”

He hands me a cup and we cheer. I take a large sip and the warm liquid burns like acid down my throat. I cough up a gasp and hunch over, waving a hand at the fire in my mouth.

“What the fuck!”

Richie glances at the door laughing, patting my back. “Girl, what you doing sipping like that? I told you that was moonshine. Shit’ll add hair to your chest.”

I cough up a lung, the moonshine still stinging my tongue.

Richie looks back at the door, as if making sure no one is watching.

“So, what are y’all two up to?”

I stand up straight to meet his gaze. “What do you mean?”

He purses his lips, waving a cup at me. “You ain’t his girl. I know my mans. So what kind of shenanigans y’all got going?”

I laugh. At least someone in this world knows Nick well. “He’s . . . helping me through something.”

Richie chuckles. “That’s Nicky. Captain save a ’ho. Even to his demise. Ah damn, my bad. I didn’t mean to call you a ’ho or nothing. I’m sure you’re nice!”

I wave away the insult. “I’m used to it. How’d you know I wasn’t his girlfriend?”

Richie’s smile fades. “It’s a long story.”

“That ziti in there sounds like it’s gonna take some time. So! What were his girlfriends like in high school?”

He shakes his head. “Girlfriends? Nah. He only had one.”

“Okay. So what was she like?”

Richie pauses to look at the door again.

“Aight, I’m only telling you this ’cause you’re here,” he whispers. “He brought you here and put you in the middle of his shit. But, well hell I don’t know. Maybe he did it on purpose. Maybe he’s been trying to find a way to tell you ’cause he can’t. He can’t talk about it.”

Damn. Do I really want to know?

Richie meets my eyes. “Her name was Ashley. And she was killed. Right in front of him.”

“What?”

He looks at the door again. “Ashley had this crazy ex-boyfriend. Couldn’t handle her moving on. Especially with Nick. They were good friends before they started dating. Nick convinced Ash to leave that abusive ass. And she did, but the man was obsessed with her. One night, he followed her over to Nicky’s house and shot her in the driveway. Nick saw the whole thing.”

“Oh God.” Poor Nick.

“Yeah. Nick blames himself. Said he would never get that close to someone again. And you’ll learn, when Nicky makes his mind up about something, he ain’t changing it.”

I nod, understanding so much about him now. So much we have in common.

Richie pours another splash of moonshine in my cup. “But I don’t know. Maybe things have changed. You might be good for our boy. Or maybe you about to drag him into some shit again.”

I swallow hard, thinking of Devonte.

“Hey!”

Nick is at the door, holding the screen open. “What are you two doing?”

“Talking about you,” I shout.

“It better be good things,” he shouts back. “Hey Rich, let me get some of that.”

“Naw, playboy,” Richie says, shaking his head as we walk toward the house. “It’s too early. Don’t need you laid out already.”

“You trying to say I can’t handle a little rotgut?”

“‘Rotgut’?” Richie laughs then says to me, “I swear this guy is the oldest Black woman I know. Alright, man. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”