A Dollar And Dream. Carl Weber

of this. This is not my responsibility and I am not gonna accept it. I swear—”

      I clicked the delete button before my brother could finish. I knew I wasn’t gonna call him. He knew it, too. It was eleven o’clock at night and I could not be bothered. Besides, what was I gonna tell him? I didn’t have the money.

      “Mrs. Taylor, this is Mr. Hawkins with First American Mortgage. We have been trying to get in contact with you and your brother in regard to payment on the property. It is over ninety days past due and we really need to receive payment in order to prevent foreclosure. Please give me a call at—” I cut him off, too. Lord knows I didn’t wanna be bothered with him either.

      I figured I wasn’t gonna take a chance on receiving any more bad news, so I didn’t play any more messages. I could hear someone moaning over my head and looked up at the ceiling. Kerri must have company, and she is working it! You go, girl! I couldn’t help but smile. I didn’t remember the last time Jordan wanted to get some and wasn’t drunk.

      I went into the bathroom and saw a wet towel in the middle of the floor. Picking it up, I put it on top of the laundry basket already piled with clothes. I picked up the heavy basket and decided that there was no better time than the present to wash clothes. I took a handful of quarters off the dresser and put the basket on a small cart, heading to the basement of the building, which served as the laundry room.

      “Hey, Trice. Need some help?”

      I nearly jumped out of my skin as the voice came out of the dark stairwell just as I walked out of my apartment. “Freddie! What the hell are you doing?”

      “I was just waiting to catch Paul. I been waiting, but he ain’t came home yet.” His breath stank to high heaven and he looked like he had climbed out of the Dumpster.

      “What you waiting on Paul for?” I pushed past him and dragged the cart to the basement door.

      “I need for him to give me two dollars.”

      “You think Paul gonna give you money, Freddie?”

      “He might. It’s for a good cause.” He smiled his yellow-stained grin and I tried not to turn up my nose.

      “What? They got a sale on forties?” I smirked. He actually had the nerve to be offended.

      “If they did, I’d have to stand behind your husband to get one.” He laughed and left out the front door.

      “At least my husband got a job, you mangy, stank-breath drunk! Get your ass off my property!” I raised my hand and Freddie took off running.

      Once I was in the basement I made sure that the washer was empty and poured detergent into the machine. I pushed the quarters in and dumped the clothes. Climbing back up the steps, I gazed at the hallway walls and sighed because I knew they were in bad shape. Looking at the floors, they were even worse. It was gonna take a lot of money to fix this place up. Money I didn’t have.

      I walked into my apartment and headed straight for the bath. Freddie had obviously run into Paul, because I could hear them yelling.

      I got into the shower and stood there at least thirty minutes. It had been a long day. Driving that damn bus is no joke. I’d been cussed out, yelled at, talked about, and spat on, and that was all in the course of one day. But the pay was all right, and I didn’t get bored.

      “Looks like I came home just in time,” Jordan said, and pulled the curtain open.

      “Jordan! Where the hell have you been? I know you got off at five. It’s damn near midnight!” I yelled.

      “Damn, you’re sexy when you’re mad.” He tried to reach in but I hit him. “Is that any way to greet your husband, Trice?”

      “It is when your husband left the house a goddamn wreck. Jordan, I know I cleaned this place up before I left here. You left food out on the stove and beer on the counter. This building is already raggedy as hell. What, you want us to have roaches, as well?” I snatched the curtain closed and turned the water off. I reached for my towel and went into the bedroom.

      “Sounds like Kerri’s getting her groove on! Makes me wanna do some things myself.” Jordan walked behind me and ran his hands across my damp back. I must admit, it felt good, but I knew where Jordan had been and he wasn’t getting no parts of this pussy tonight. I could smell the beer on his breath and it was a turnoff.

      “Where have you been, Jordan?”

      “I went over to the bar with Rodney,” he answered.

      I reached on my dresser to get the cocoa butter and began rubbing it over my body.

      “Trice, you know that gets me horny when you do that. Come on, baby,” he growled.

      “Well, get over it. How much did you lose, Jordan?” I kept rubbing as he watched.

      “Lose? What do you mean, lose?”

      “Don’t play stupid with me. How much did you lose gambling?”

      “Who said I was gambling?”

      “I said it. I know you like a book, Jordan. Now how much did you lose?”

      “See. Why you gotta say it like that, Katrice? How you know I ain’t win?” He took the bottle of lotion and poured some into the palm his hand. I glared at him as he rubbed his palms together.

      “Because if you won, Jordan, you would have been bragging from the time you hit the door.” I knew him better than he thought I did. Over the past couple of months, it had gotten worse and worse and we were getting broker and broker. I loved Jordan more than life itself. He was the best thing that ever happened to me outside of my daddy. But I was getting more and more frustrated with our current financial state, and more importantly, I was getting fed up with him

      “Aw, Trice. You have no faith in your man,” he said as he rubbed the lotion on my back. His hands felt so good, I began to loosen up. I let my head fall forward as he massaged my neck.

      “How much, Jordan? Just tell me.” I sighed.

      “I was up a grand, Trice. I was on a roll. But then the dice, they got cold.”

      “How much?”

      “Four hundred but—”

      I cut him off before he could finish. “Four hundred dollars? Jordan, that’s half your paycheck!” I screamed. Jordan had a decent job working for FedEx, but he gambled most of his paycheck away every week. “We barely have lights and water. Not to mention the fact that they’re about to foreclose on this building!”

      “What are you talking about, Katrice?”

      “This building, Jordan. You know we’re three months behind on the mortgage. The bank is calling every day and now they’re sending Kevin letters, too. You know how hard I had to fight to keep this place. It was my daddy’s dream.” I could feel the tears as they filled my eyes.

      “Don’t worry, Trice. It will be okay. You won’t lose the building. I promise, baby,” he whispered.

      “How can you promise something like that, Jordan? We can barely pay our own rent in this place. This is becoming a habit, Jordan, and I can’t do it no more.” I pulled away from him. He put his finger over his mouth and motioned for me to be quiet. Before I could cuss him out for shutting me up, he pointed to the ceiling. “I don’t care who hears me,” I said.

      “No, listen. Kerri is yelling at somebody,” he hissed. I concentrated so I could hear what he was talking about. He was right, she was yelling and she was loud. Then we heard her door slam.

      “Let’s go peek!” He grabbed my arm and pulled me up. We hurried into the front room and pulled back the curtain. I could see a tall man running to his Mercedes. He didn’t look too happy.

      “Damn. I wonder what he did?” Jordan turned and asked me.

      “He probably gambled half of his paycheck away!” I huffed and