He looked like a walking talking pile of horse manure wearing Timberlands and a white t-shirt.           

“Can’t I have just one day without you breathing down my neck?” Jacy looked disgusted. He let go of her wrist and stopped struggling with her for a moment. He stood there smirking, every now and then trying to grasp at her hand, which she was now hiding behind her back. His breath was strong with gin, his eyes were glassy and he could barely keep his balance. He moved very slow, which was a sharp contrast to his normal behavior, because when he wasn’t drunk he was very animated and lively.

“It’s nearly 3 in the morning, why didn’t you just go home?” Jacy almost whined. “You had to come over here, right?”

“I wanted to see you boopie. I was thinking ‘bout you all day,” he replied, using the nickname Jacy hated.

“Well I wasn’t thinking about you. I almost had one complete day of peace,” Jacy snorted and turned around to head towards her room. Of course he followed.

Popi was always drunk. Or high. To Jacy he was like a hangnail – she wanted to cut it off so badly, but she kept delaying. She just scrunched up her nose, played with it, making it worse and said to herself “I’ll get it later.” Not to mention, she didn’t have the right tools at the time to get rid of it. But in the meanwhile it was pissing her off.

“Popi, is there anyway you can sleep out on the couch tonight. You smell like alcohol. It’s making me nauseous.” Jacy requested, slipping back under her sheets and pulling them over her head.

“Naw baby. Come on.” Popi said kicking off his shoes and pulling off his t-shirt at the same time. He tripped over his Tims and nearly fell into the wall next to Jacy’s new queen sized bed.

“God, why do you always do this Popi. You supposedly live around the corner from the bar,  and you can’t just go home?” Jacy asked again, muffled under the covers.

Popi was silent. He just slid his way over to the bed and plopped himself on top of Jacy. He pulled the covers back a little and started stroking the top of her hair.

“Don’t start with me Popi, and I mean it. I have to get up early tomorrow and look at houses. Let me sleep.”

“Here you go.” Popi pulled back the covers more and said, getting increasingly loud and still slurring his words. “You always have some got damn excuse these days. We haven’t had sex in like a week. I ain’t gonna take much more of this.”

“Then don’t Popi. I told you, just go find some hoodrat and leave me alone! I really don’t care about your sexual problems.” Jacy exaggerated her words for effect, and then pulled the covers back over her head.

“You’re serious about that ain’t you.” Popi looked down at the dark mound where he knew Jacy’s head was.

“Dead serious.”

“Well maybe I’ll do that. Ya’ll bitches, nonna ya’ll different.” Popi grunted and quickly hopped back up off of the bed. He pulled himself back into his jeans in a flash, and snatched his shirt up off of the floor.

“Oh I’m a bitch now. It guess it takes one to know one huh, bitch.” Jacy mumbled under her breath. What an idiot, she thought.

“Yes. No, YOU are the bitch!” Popi had superhuman hearing. He heard everything. He could hear a dollar fall on the concrete. Especially when he was drunk. “Fuck all that shit I said about you being special. You’re really just an especially evil bitch!”

“Yea, alright.” Jacy said hoping he would just go. This was a rare occurrence, that Popi would actually get mad enough to pick up his things and leave. What had she said that was so different? She let go some of the pressure in her forehead and almost smiled.

Jacy could feel Popi lingering in the room for a few more moments, probably reconsidering, then he turned around and left. A few more moments went by before she heard the self-locking door open and close.

Jacy’s heart sunk when she felt Popi slink back into the room. He just walked over and slid back into the bed face down, his boots hanging over the side of the bed. Jacy sighed.

“Take off your jeans in my bed,” is all she said, defeated.

Jacy didn’t sleep that entire night. Popi on the other hand went out like a light. He never even took off his jeans. She stared at the ceiling for what seemed like eternity. She didn’t like this man sleeping next to her. She thought some of the worst thoughts as she laid, up. Thoughts that if were translated into reality would cause him great harm, and doom her to a life on the run. Popi had never dared raise a hand to Jacy, but sometimes she wondered about him. At times she worried that he was capable of a whole lot more than what he’d already done.

In her opinion, Popi didn’t deserve her. He had a little money, but trouble followed him like a hungry abandoned dog. And he brought all his troubles to Jacy in one way or another. It seemed that everyday it was something new with him. He was a loser, and his losing aura was starting to rub off on her.

Just the other day, Jacy had lost a bidding war with another investor competing for a great property in Northeast Philly. The property needed minimal work, had 4 bedrooms, 2 baths, a huge eat in kitchen and the previous owner was desperate to sell so that he could make his move down to Miami. The asking price was unbelievable. The day that Jacy was on the phone, going back and forth with her agent putting in her bids, she was checking her phone messages when Popi called. She switched over, not recognizing the number, and listened as he immediately began ranting about something that had happened with his baby’s mother. One of his many baby’s mothers.

Jacy wasn’t trying to hear it, and told him so – she didn’t know why Popi thought it was okay to make her his personal therapist. She wasn’t getting paid by the hour, she had told him that day on the phone. It was kind of harsh, but Jacy was frustrated. Popi, furious now not only at his baby’s mother, but now at Jacy, replied that she was used to getting paid by the trick. Jacy was set off by the low blow and they got into a loud shouting match over the phone. Meanwhile, her agent was calling her back. But she didn’t hear a click while she was on the phone arguing with Popi, because she still had her voicemail on the other line. She missed the calls from her agent, and when she finally got off of the phone with Popi her apartment buzzer rang signalling the arrival of the Fedex man. Jacy went to pick up her package and came back, now engrossed with it’s contents, and totally oblivious to the fact that she had several very important messages waiting on her phone.

An hour later, Jacy heard the familiar loud beep on her cellphone signalling she had messages.  I didn’t hear the phone ring, she thought.

The first, received at 3:39 pm: Jacy call me back IMMEDIATELY. The owner is fed up with the back and forth - he says he will accept the best offer he receives before 4pm. He’s trying to get this thing over with. Let’s give him an even 21 no inspection, I don’t think anyone will beat that. But I need to hear from you as soon as possible.

The second, received at 3:40pm: Jacy what is going on? You’re making me nervous. Call me as soon as you get this message! It’s coming down to the wire.

The third, received at 3:47pm: Jacy you’re gonna lose this house. It’s a great investment property, one of the best I’ve seen in that price range. I need to hear back from you in the next minute, literally. What is going on with your phone. I’m certain they will accept the offer at 21 cash. You can flip this house at 40 or 50 minimum with a little work. Call me IMMEDIATELY.

The fourth, received at 3:52pm: It’s gone Jacy. The owner accepted the last bid that came in. I don’t know what happened, but we had this one in the bag. You really need to get a home phone and lose that cellphone. <click>

Jacy looked at the phone in horror. No. She had not just lost that house. She was so confident she’d win! Even her agent praised her for her uncanny negotiating skills. She had gone as far as to schedule her team to go in and perform the minor work needed on the house in two weeks. That was how confident she was. She had been counting on that money. She screamed at the top of her lungs and clutched the flip phone in her hand so tightly that it broke in half. That quickly, she lost all of her numbers, all of her important contacts in one fell swoop. It was like a chain reaction – first Popi, then the house, and now her phone, which would mean having to buy a new phone, pay someone to try to save the phone memory, or wait for people, including customers, to call her back, which most likely wouldn’t happen. And money was already tight. She had thrown herself down onto the floor in defeat and started crying.

It was Popi – he was a bad luck charm. She wished she had never met him that day at the bar, in her vulnerable state. Jacy knew that if she stayed with him any longer he would drag her along with him into a life of total misery.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!  Jacy’s alarm went off causing her to jump. She didn’t know when she had fallen asleep, but it couldn’t have been too long before. She was still dead tired. The clock read 8:50am. Popi was on his stomach, his thick flabby arm was draped over her stomach. He had gained a little weight since they met. When she tried to get up from the bed he restrained her.

“Popi get the fuck up off me!” she yelled, louder than usual for 8:51am. She snatched his hand away and jumped out of the bed.

Popi shot up still half asleep. “What?? What?” he asked with his face screwed up. Cold was in the corner of both of his eyes.

Jacy looked at him and rolled her large almond shaped brown eyes. She crossed her arms. “You can’t sleep in today. I got work to do. Can you leave now?”

“Come on boopie you see I’m hung over,” Popi replied softly and turned back around to go to sleep.

“Oooooo. I can’t stand… I hate when... –  oooo.” Jacy couldn’t even find the words to say. She had tried to be nice but that never worked with Popi. Unfortunately, neither did being mean. She stormed away to the bathroom to take a shower. She decided she was just not going to answer the door anymore when he came over. No matter what. No matter what he says or does, she thought.

It was now a little after 12 noon. Jacy had struggled to get Popi up out of the bed to leave, but with no success. She had three appointments to see properties, one at 12:30pm, one at 1:15pm and one at 3pm. It was a full time job getting Popi out of bed. She didn’t like leaving him alone in her house, but it was closely approaching a quarter after 12. She finally just locked her office door, left him there and hit the streets.

Jacy was now living in a 2 bedroom apartment with the same leasing company as her previous apartment, but in a completely different part of town. She needed the extra room for an office. It was a small room, but sufficient to keep her occupied with work instead of the TV in her bedroom. It had been almost a year since she sold her first house, and since then she was doing OK, but things were still going slow for her taste. She flipped houses at a rate of about one every two or three months. The profits were sufficent to keep her lights on and her now $900 per month rent paid, but she could still do better. She rarely ever had any cash unless Popi gave her some. She hated to ask him for it though, so most of the time she just stayed broke but paying her bills.

Jacy was looking casual in a pair of jeans and a blue long sleeved v-neck shirt. She had her hair tied up in a ponytail. Despite dressing down, she had thrown some foundation on over her dark brown skin, and a light coat of Mac lipglass. As she bounced down the stairs and onto the street a red Cutlass Supreme with deeply tinted windows zoomed by her causing her to take a quick step back.

“What the hell?” she mumbled to herself. She rolled her head to the side and continued across the street to her car. As she turned the ignition she looked in her rear view and noticed the Cutlass was still sitting at the stop sign at the end of the block. Jacy’s guard immediately went up. Her body tensed.

Just as the wheels began turning in her mind about she should do, the Cutlass made a right turn at the stop sign and screeched off.

“Who was that?” she said to herself. She continued looking in that direction for a few more moments, and then looked down at her hands, which were slightly trembling. She was on edge a lot these days. Popi was driving her crazy.

As she sat trying to calm herself down, she remembered another messed up incident involving Popi that had happened not even two months after they started dating. One of Popi’s mindless baby’s mother’s, a homely brown skinned woman with braids that needed to be redone badly, had the nerve to show up at Jacy’s apartment looking for him, with her young son in hand. She came right up to Jacy’s door and knocked on it like the police. When Jacy answered the door she was obviously confused. Who was this woman?

The woman, who obviously had attitude, explained that she was looking for Popi. Apparently, he had given Jacy’s address to child support. Jacy looked at the woman dumbfounded.

“So is he here? I need to talk to him,” the woman said with bass in her voice.

“Listen,” Jacy said with an annoyed chuckle as she leaned on the door knob for support. “Somebody made a mistake, Popi don’t live here.”

“Come on now girl, if he’s here you ain’t gotta protect him. I just need to talk to him,” the woman rolled her eyes and answered impatiently.

“You ain’t hearing me. This is absolutely not Popi’s home. I know him, but he does not live here, he has never lived here and never will.”

The woman looked her up and down. “So you his new girlfriend huh?”

“Mommy!” her three year old yelled out all of a sudden. “I thought we was gonna see Daddy?” Jacy looked at the boy as he spoke and then back at the mother.

“No, I’m not his girlfriend. But even if I was that’s really none of your business,” Jacy said as she blinked her eyes, trying to remain calm at this strange woman standing at her door uninvited, asking her questions.

“I bet you the one that told him he need to do that paternity test. You all in our business,” the woman nodded her head and shifted her body from side to side. “Uh huh.”

Jacy scrunched up her face at the woman. She balanced her stance, sized her up and got prepared for the possibility that she might have to fight. She was not going to assume this woman wouldn’t get ghetto and start a physical fight just because of the child on her hip. “What? I didn’t even know about any paternity test. Now you’re tripping. You need to be out now, Popi don’t stay here.”

“Whatever. You tell him Samyra came by and I need to holla at him,” she said with an attitude as she started walking away.

“Sweetheart, I’m not his answering service, but you can bet he will hear about this,” Jacy said slamming the door shut.

As soon as Jacy shut the door she was on the phone calling Popi, who didn’t answer after three tries. She finally caught up with him several hours later.

“Heyyy boopie,” he answered.

“Don’t hey me mutherfucker. How the hell you gonna call yourself giving out my address to one of your bum ass baby’s mothers??” Jacy shouted.

“What? Hold on, you gonna need to lower your voice. I never gave your address to nonna my babys’ mothers.”

“Don’t tell me what the fuck to do. Your baby’s mother Samyra came by my crib just now asking for you. What kind of bullshit is that? What you’re gonna need to do is call child support, and get my fucking address off their records. What the hell would possess you to give my address out instead of yours??”

Popi was quietly fuming as he realized what she was talking about. He had gone to court recently and asked for a paternity test on his fourth child. “Listen Jacy, I didn’t have no other address to give them. I didn’t know they was allowed to give that address to the mom...”

“What do you mean?? Give them your own damn address! I don’t believe this shit,” Jacy said shaking her head. She couldn’t comprehend how he could take this situation so lightly.

“I couldn’t. You know I live with a whole lotta niggas – they don’t never get me my mail. And I needed to make sure I got those results.”

“Call those people and take my address off their records – NOW!”  Jacy demanded and hung up the phone.

Something vicious sparked up in Popi after hearing Jacy yell the way she did at him. Who the hell does she think she’s talking to? he thought. It took everything in him not to go over her house right at that moment and set her straight. But he was even more pissed at his baby’s mother. Jacy probably would have never even known about him using her address, because they didn’t really send  test results in the mail – he would have to go to court to hear the results. He had just used that as an excuse. Now he was gonna have to find some other address to use, because there was no way they were gonna track him down at his real address. He would deal with his baby’s mother Samyra for blowing up his spot.

Jacy looked up from her hands and stared out the front glass of her car, not looking at anything in particular. She snapped out of her reverie and took one last look in her rear view mirror. She saw a young lady of about 20 years old bundled up in a short goose down jacket hustling down the street. Jacy thought to herself that it was a little early in the year to be wearing a coat that warm. Jacy looked at the car clock that now read 12:23pm.

“I really have to stop daydreaming,” she said to herself as she pulled off. “And talking to myself.”

As she turned the corner towards the main street, down the block the driver of the red Cutlass turned the ignition.