A Dollar And Dream. Carl Weber
Coke bottle?”
“Yeah, that’s Kerri all right.” I smiled with pride.
“You going out with her? How the hell did you pull that off? No offense, Paul, but isn’t she outta your league?”
“I thought so, too,” I told him, “but when they call you up from the minors, you don’t say no. You take your ass up there and try to act like the big dogs. Hopefully you’ll impress somebody enough that they’ll keep you around.”
“Well, I hope she keeps you around, Paul, ’cause I can’t think of a guy who deserves it more than you.”
“If everything works out the way I plan, I’ll be around every night from now on.”
“You go, boy. Hit that shit one time for me.” He laughed and I joined in. “Man, let me get your champagne out the fridge so you can be with that fine-ass woman.”
Joe walked the short distance to the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles. He placed them on the counter then stepped over to his register.
“You need a corkscrew with that, Paul?”
“No, if she doesn’t have one, I’m sure I’ve got one at the house.”
“All right. That’ll be one hundred sixty-seven twenty-eight.”
“A hundred and sixty-seven dollars?” I snapped back at him. “That’s gotta be wrong.”
He glanced at the register. “Nope, it’s right.”
“Are you crazy? I could take five women out for that.”
“Look, you were the one who said you wanted to hang with the big dogs. Big dog champagne costs seventy dollars a bottle and up.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yep.”
“Well, what are the little dogs drinking these days?”
“I’ve got some Andre’s over here for ten-ninety-nine. It may give you a hangover, but it’s champagne, and champagne’s champagne, if you ask me.”
“Okay, then let me have six bottles of the Andre’s and we’ll see if we can make up for quality with quantity.”
“That sounds good to me, but are you sure Miss Thing is gonna go for this?”
“Don’t worry about Kerri. I got something for her.”
Ten minutes later I was standing in front of Kerri’s door with a dozen roses in one arm and the champagne in the other. She was playing some nice jazz and I could hear people through the door in the background, most notably that loud-ass Jordan.
I knocked on the door and Kerri answered, wearing a black strapless evening gown that showed off every curve of her hourglass figure.
“Hey, Paul.” She smiled seductively and kissed me on the cheek.
“Hi. Sorry I’m late.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. The fight doesn’t start for a good half hour.”
“These are for you.” I handed her the flowers.
“Oh, Paul, they’re lovely. Come on in.” She took hold of my arm and I walked into her apartment. “Everybody, Paul’s here and he’s brought champagne.”
The crowd turned and everybody but Rodney smiled. Kerri placed the flowers in a vase, then turned to me. “Let me have the champagne, Paul, so I can put it on ice.”
“Sure.” I handed her the bag.
“Wow, this is heavy. You must have gotten more that two bottles.” She reached into the bag.
“Yeah, I got six, but I didn’t get—” I didn’t have to finish my statement. Her eyes finished it for me.
“What the fuck is this? This isn’t Dom or Moet,” she yelled. Everyone in the room turned toward me, and to say I was embarrassed was an understatement.
“Yeah, I know. That stuff was eighty dollars a bottle. Why pay that much for something you’re gonna drink in half an hour? I could be loaning that money to Katrice so she won’t lose the building.”
I smiled at Katrice, hoping she might come to my rescue, but after she glanced at Kerri she never said a word. Kerri’s face said it all. She was not a happy camper. Thank God Jordan put in his two cents.
“I don’t give a damn how much it costs. Does it have alcohol in it?” Jordan asked.
“Yeah,” I replied.
“So what’s the problem? Crack them babies open. We’re not on Park Avenue. More like Broke Avenue up in here.” He took the bottle out of Kerri’s hand and it seemed like the party went back to normal, though Kerri basically ignored me for most of it.
About midnight, the crowd thinned down to the people who lived in the building. That’s when Kerri, who’d been pouting all night, finally approached me.
“Can I speak to you for a minute?”
“Sure, what’s on your mind?”
She pulled me over into a corner. “I looked at my calendar again and I’m busy this weekend.”
“Okay. What about next weekend?”
“I’m pretty much busy from now on where you’re concerned, Paul. I can’t fuck with you. You’re too cheap for me.”
“Why, Kerri? Just because of the champagne? Because nobody cared. They drank every last drop outta all six bottles.”
“I care, Paul. I told you what I wanted and you couldn’t live up to those standards.”
“Come on, Kerri. Give me a chance. Let me make it up to you,” I pleaded.
“I already gave you a chance, Paul, and you blew it.” She walked away and Jordan walked up behind me. He handed me a glass of champagne.
“Man, fuck that chick.” He waved his hand at Kerri’s back.
“I’m gonna do just that, Jordan my man. Just you wait and see. She don’t know it, but soon enough Miss Kerri’s gonna be begging me to give her some.”
“What? You plan on dying and coming back as Denzel Washington or something? ’Cause that chick’s all about the money.” He finished off what was left of his champagne. “So did you hear the news?”
“What news? My mind has been on nothing but Kerri the last day or two.”
“You ain’t hear? Whoever hit the lotto bought their ticket over at the Quick-Mart across the street. Somebody from around here is walking around with fifty million dollars in their pocket.”
“No shit. Get the fuck outta here.”
“For real.”
I reached in my pocket and pulled out five lottery tickets as casually as I could. “Damn, I ain’t even check my numbers yet.”
“Man, what the fuck you waiting for?” Jordan seemed more excited than I did. “Hey, Kerri,” Jordan shouted. “You got today’s newspaper?”
“Look on the kitchen counter,” she shouted back.
Jordan and I walked over to the kitchen counter and I flipped through the paper until we found the page with lottery results.
The first two tickets didn’t even come close. But the third ticket made me look at Jordan and say, “Look at this ticket and tell me if I’m seeing what I think I’m seeing.”
Jordan looked down at the paper, then at the ticket, and did a triple take. Then he looked up at me with this astonished, glassy-eyed look.
“Nigga, you just won the motherfuckin’ lottery!”
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