Lovin' Harlem

Ch. 23

Almost six days later and Nicki was still in Asheville with her sister. Harlem was beyond frustrated by now and stayed grumpy from the time she woke up to when she unwillingly fell asleep waiting on the couch for Nicki. It upset me seeing Harlem so sad without Nicki around. She barely wanted to eat after the third day and refused to sleep in her own bed. Harlem called Nicki's phone over and over, begging her to come home and after a while, Nicki's phone went straight to voicemail.

Between dealing with Harlem's attitude and phone calls from Eva what felt like every five minutes, I was close to blowing up. I was pissed off at Nicki for leaving this long without warning me about the effect it would have on Harlem. She made it seem like Harlem would be happy to be with me but she wasn't. Harlem barely wanted to watch TV with me and playing dolls was completely out of the question. Harlem made it harder to deal with Nicki not being around to cook or clean and I hated it.

As soon as I closed up shop, I had to go home and cook dinner because I felt like a bad parent feeding Harlem McDonald's for the fourth time this week. She sat in the chair next to my desk with her arms folded and a permanent frown on her face. Nicki made it look so easy doing Harlem's hair but it was actually really hard to do. Especially when she whined and pulled away every chance she got. I barely had her hair in the black ponytail holder because it was all she let me do before she threw a fit that I didn't want to deal with. My patience with Harlem was thin. She turned to look at me and then pouted.

                "Can we go home? Titi might be back," she whined and pushed herself from the chair. When she was in front of me, she opened her arms and waited for me to pick her up. Over the last six days, I became just as bad as Nicki with holding Harlem because it was the only time she wasn't whining or crying. As soon as she was in my arms, she put her head on my shoulder and sighed. Without Nicki, Harlem was a different little girl. I didn't like this little girl as much. I didn't want to reign on her parade about Nicki so I nodded my head and decided to close an hour early.

                "Take a bath when you get home and I'm gon' make you something to eat."

                "No hotdogs and beans, daddy," Harlem deadpanned. I laughed and cleaned up the pile of papers on my desk. She could have gotten down so I could clean up quicker but she was content in my arms. When I closed up and headed to my truck, I saw a figure standing by the driver's door. I was confused until I saw Tyreke turn around and greet me with a head nod.

                "Whatchu doin' over here by my truck nigga?" I asked as I opened Harlem's door so she could buckle herself up. She eyed Tyreke suspiciously as she rolled her window down so she could hear everything. He glanced at her and chuckled nervously before rubbing the back of his neck. His clothes were wrinkled and almost smelled sour. He avoided eye contact for a split second before he cleared his throat.

                "You seen that nigga Lewis?" he asked and then looked at me. The name sounded familiar but I couldn't put my finger on why. The only Lewis I knew was the boy who worked for Nicki. The boy she shot and buried...

                "Lewis who?" I started the car and then rolled the window down as he shifted his weight uncomfortably. Before Harlem could ask, I turned the air on and nodded my head at her. She smiled and then looked away.

                "That faggot that work for Nicki," he said quickly. A wave a nausea washed over me just thinking about Lewis. His body was in the middle of nowhere and nobody knew. I shook my head.

                "Nah, why?" I glanced at the clock on the dashboard nervously.

                "He uh, he owe me some money and I need that like now. And I ain't seen him 'round in a while. Nicki know where he at?"