Baby Momma Read online

  We laughed. Ris was always good at making me smile. “Um... so where da hell is yo’ baby daddy?” You could cut the sarcasm with a knife. She knew where Rasheed was, or what I should say is that she knew where Rasheed claimed to be.

  “Same as last night and the night before, Ris. He’s working.” I didn’t sound convincing, not even to my own ears. I’d been trying to give Rasheed the benefit of the doubt, but he was making it next to impossible for me to believe he wasn’t out doing dirt.

  “Okay, Michelle. So that’s the game we playin’ right now huh? Otha than the afta-hours spot, there ain’ a damn club in Virginia that stays open past two-thirty. I say we go find his ho’n ass!”

  “No, momma. It’s okay. Trey’s fever broke and I need to try to get some kind of sleep so I can review this contract with these clients tomorrow. I’m just tired, Ris. I’m getting so tired.” My voice caught in my throat and the line beeped with an incoming call. It was Rasheed.

  “Let me call you in the morning okay?” I rushed Ris off the line, anxious to see what excuse he was calling to give me. That seemed to be my life these days. Wait for Rah to call, wait for Rah to come home, wait for Rah to fuck up so I could catch him in a lie; I was always waiting for Rasheed.

  This was a far cry from the family life I grew up with. My momma came home from work every day and cooked dinner for my father, who in turn brought his ass home every day at a reasonable time so we could all sit and have a meal as a family. My parents had what I liked to consider the real American Dream. They’d been married for nearly thirty years and were still each other’s best friend. As far as they knew, me and Rasheed were perfectly happy together. I couldn’t bring myself to tell them I spent most of my time miserable and in doubt. I closed my eyes and silently prayed for strength. I hit the “accept incoming call” option, mentally preparing myself for another battle of the sexes.

  “Yes, Rasheed?” I waited but could only hear background noise. He was talking to someone and it was hard to make out his words over the background noise. “Rasheed, hello?” No response. This nigga had actually “butt-dialed” me. Somehow his phone was in his back pocket, and since I was probably the last number in his call log, when he sat down the phone dialed my number back.

  It felt wrong, almost stalker-ish to eavesdrop on his conversation, but I couldn’t bring myself to press the end button. I could tell from the bumps every three or four seconds that he was driving. The radio was low and garbled and I still couldn’t hear who he was talking to or what he was saying. I placed the phone on speaker and carried it with me into the bedroom as I tied up my hair and got ready for bed. I’d listened to nearly twenty minutes of garbled noise and was debating on hanging up. Silently I dared him to give me solid proof. Let me hear him working or let me hear him doing dirt, either way I’d hear it with my own ears.

  I turned off the lights and laid the phone on the pillow beside me, still on speaker, and closed my eyes. Why, God, was this man putting me through this? Every night he goes to work and he’s doing Lord knows what and I sit here and wait on him to decide if, or when, he wants to come home. Frustration was becoming a very familiar feeling these days.

  I’d actually started getting used to the unidentifiable white noise when the phone was suddenly quiet. Turning off the speaker phone I turned the audio volume as far up as it’d go, and pressed the phone so hard to my ear that it started burning. I could hear Rah’s voice clearly now. He was ordering food or something. My hands started shaking and I could feel my insides starting to boil. Every damn night I came home from work and, tired or not, I cooked for his ass. Chicken Parmesan, shrimp Alfredo, blackened salmon, you name it. I couldn’t believe he had the nerve to eat out somewhere knowing I was keeping a plate warm for him.

  I sat up in the bed and stared blankly ahead. I couldn’t help feeling as though the shadows of our darkened bedroom somehow were laughing at the fool this man was making me out to be. Narrowing my eyes, I listened even more closely to Rah as he asked someone a question. A woman answered. She sounded young. A waitress or a drive-thru chick maybe? She was laughing, saying something back to him. My blood ran cold as ice and my grip on the phone was so tight my fingers had gone numb. My heart tap-danced in my chest at a mile a minute as I listened and waited. The fabric of his pants rubbed back and forth across the speaker, indicating that he was walking. A loud thud followed, as he got into what I suspected was his car. The phone went silent as my piece of shit BlackBerry lost its signal, making me curse out loud.

  I didn’t bother calling Rasheed back, or fighting the tears that were slowly burning trails down my cheeks.

  3

  Let’s Get One Thing Straight

  Michelle’s conversation was quickly slippin’ from my mind as I watched Honey cross and uncross her legs out the corner of my eye. Michelle knew damn well she wasn’t going to take Trey to no damn ER for a fever. She was just trying to find a way to force me to come home on her schedule and I sure as hell ain’t appreciate that bullshit. I had started heading toward Military Highway but pulled into the abandoned Cedar Grove Shopping Center and parked. I had a few things I wanted to discuss with Honey. We’d been dealin’ with each other for about four months and she definitely seemed like that ride or die chick I needed on my team. I already had Michelle, but she was my business head. Don’t get me wrong. Michelle was a good girl. We went to high school together. I was the bad boy and she was the pretty brain of the school. Niggas flipped out when they found out I was fucking with her.

  She held me down, though, even helped a nigga move product sometimes. She wouldn’t let no other nigga even get close to her after I hit that shit. We’d been together for about eight years, hell since we were both sixteen, and when she had my son, Trey, two years ago I knew I couldn’t let her go. She was my one and only baby momma. It was an official done deal. Another nigga could cancel any thought of getting with that shit. She was loyal than a muthafucka to me and me only. Michelle was like Honey in a lot of ways. She was fine and would do anything I asked, or told her to. I guess she just loved me like that. As I put the car into park, I turned to Honey.

  “What’s up, baby? You want to do it again?” She had that eager look in her eyes. I couldn’t believe she was ready again so soon.

  “Naw, boo, I’ma take care of you for sho, but right now I got to talk to you about some real shit.”

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  “I’ma ask you something and don’t lie to me.” I was serious. If it was one thing I didn’t tolerate it was a lying bitch. The last bitch who lied to me ain’t looking too good right about now. I sent a few of my soldiers to teach her a lesson. Dumb broad actually laughed in their faces, so they went the extra mile and took a blade to the corners of her mouth, slicing her open from her lip to cheek. That bitch got a permanent smile now, looks like a real-life version of the Joker now. No lie.

  “You love me?” I asked her. She paused for a second, like she didn’t know what to say. “What’s the matter, why you actin’ like I just gave you a fucking SAT question or some shit?”

  “It’s not that, baby,” she said quietly. “It’s just that I don’t want you to be mad at me, or leave me.”

  “What the hell you talkin’ ’bout, girl?”

  She took a deep breath. “I mean, if I tell you how I really feel, are you going to get upset and leave me? I don’t want that to happen. You the best thing that’s happened to me. And you the only nigga who give a shit about me.”

  “Look, Honey, I ain’t gonna get mad at you. For real the reason I pulled over here to talk to you is ‘cause I feel like we need to make this official. You been loyal to me, at least I’m hopin’ so, ‘cause the way you was ridin’ my ass tonight kinda got a nigga wonderin’.”

  She laughed. “Daddy, I ain’t fucking nobody else. I just wanted to make sure you was happy so you wouldn’t want to go nowhere else. I took a few classes an’ I even went to this sex party.”

  “What the fuck you mean a sex p
arty?” I was ready to flip. You mean to tell me the chick I been dickin‘raw been going to fuckin’ orgy parties? I leaned closer to her an’ could feel my hands itchin’ to go ’round her neck should she give me the wrong answer.

  She had the look of a wide-eyed, frightened deer and leaned back close to the window in fear. “It was one of those sex toy parties where you can buy vibrators an’ oils an’ stuff. I just asked them a lot of questions so I could learn some stuff, baby. I don’t know that much ‘bout sex. I jus’ wanted to learn ways to make you happier wit’ me.”

  It wasn’t until she had given me her explanation that I realized how scared she looked. “I’m sorry baby. I ain’t mean to yell at you like that. I just got scared that you was given my shit away.” I was glad she hadn’t said what I was thinking. My chest had felt as if it were about to cave in for a minute. “You been watching them porno tapes I got for you, too, huh?”

  She flashed me her pretty smile and shook her head yes. “Yeah, an’ there was a whole lot of shit I want to try. If you up for it?”

  “Oh, yeah? We’ll see ‘bout that later. Right now, I need an answer from you. You gonna be my girl or what?” I already knew she was gonna say yes, but I wanted to cover my own ass. This way, if she fucked up or crossed any lines that shouldn’t be crossed, she couldn’t use the excuse that she didn’t know it was like that before I whooped her ass. Far as she knew she the only one I was fuckin’ wit’ and she had no reason to think otherwise. The goal is to neva let your side piece know that’s all she is. You get more respect, leeway, and hella more pussy when you got a bitch thinkin’ she number one. Not too many women ever dare cross a nigga like me and, hopefully, it didn’t have to get to that point with Honey. I really liked her and wanted things to stay the way they were. Besides, who would want to mess up such a pretty face?

  “Yes,” she answered. “I’ve been your girl since the day you picked me.”

  I knew from that moment that I was gonna have everything exactly how I always imagined. I had two fine-ass, loyal women who would do anything to make me happy and I knew just where to put them to work in my life. I didn’t get where I was by being dumb and I did everything for a reason.

  I leaned over toward Honey’s seat, waited for her to meet me the rest of the way, and planted a kiss on her lips. The deal was sealed. It was kinda funny, that was the first time I had ever kissed her and I could tell that she realized the importance of it. When you jus’ fuckin’ someone it’s almost like an unspoken rule. You don’t kiss on the mouth and you damn sure don’t eat her pussy. I wanted Honey to know this was something serious. I wanted her to feel like she was special.

  “Let’s go get something to eat, then I gotta make a stop. After that I’m gonna take you somewhere and put yo’ ass to sleep.” And that’s exactly what I planned on doing.

  I drove across the plaza to the IHOP. Both Honey and I always ordered the same thing every time we came here; I would order the steak omelet and she always ordered the French toast with two scrambled eggs and sausage. She was so simple and uncomplicated and that was what I liked about her. Real easygoing, no stress.

  Once we got inside, I decided that I didn’t want to stay. I wanted to hurry and get to a place where I could relax and enjoy my time with her, no interruptions. I had to call and check on my son, and my phone had been blowin’ up so I had to get back in touch with my soldiers to see how business was going.

  “Honey, order my usual and get whatever you want. I need to go handle some biz, okay?” I handed her a fifty and winked, knowin’ I wouldn’t be gettin’ any change back.

  “Okay, daddy, I’ll be out in a minute.”

  I had a few calls to make and I didn’t need an audience. I walked outside and couldn’t help admiring my white Lexus LFA coupe with all-white interior. I hand selected everything on her from the trim to the color of the damn thread holding the leather together. I called her Becky, my white girl. Michelle hated the car. She said it drew too much attention and was too flashy. Hell, that and the fact that I was the only nigga in all of Virginia with one made me like it even more. I climbed in and let the crisp new car and clean leather scent surround me. After pressing the start engine button on the dash I pulled my phone out of my back pocket. Bullshit-ass touch screen was locked up displaying Michelle’s name and number from when I’d spoken to her earlier. I turned it off and back on again and decided to dial Michelle’s number first. Might as well get it over with.

  “What, Rasheed?” I was getting used to that tone. She was pissed and would go through hell or high water to make sure I knew it.

  “Man, don’t start that shit. What’s going on wit’ my son?” Damn, I didn’t feel like going through this shit right now.

  “Oh, now you care. I called you over an hour ago and told you he had a fever. I’m glad you found the time to fit us in. He’s fine.”

  I could tell she was frustrated. I had been spending a lot of time away from her. Business had started to pick up all of a sudden. I had acquired a few high-paying clients who were always in need of some product. They were some big-name people so I decided to handle those clients personally, which sometimes had me hanging out at some late-night and overnight parties.

  “Baby, don’t act like that.” I tried to calm her down a little bit. “I know I been gone but you know what I been doing. How that mortgage going to get paid if I ain’t handling my shit? Come on now.”

  “Whatever, Rasheed.”

  That was her favorite response. I acted like I didn’t even hear her. “You miss me? I miss you too. I mean, I ain’t going to lie, I probably won’t be home tonight ‘cause I still have a bunch of runs to make, but I promise I’ll be there when you an’ li’l man get home tomorrow.” I was hoping that would be enough to make her feel better.

  “Damn, Rasheed, I gotta wait until six o‘clock tomorrow to see my own damn man. If you ask me, your little flunkies you out buyin’ late-night snacks and shit for is your damn girl! They get more time with you than me or your son. I can’t believe you would have the nerve to take some bitch out to eat when I’m telling you Trey is sick. Fuck you.” She hung up the phone.

  Damn she made me mad sometimes. How the hell did she even know I’d stopped to get food? Fuck! My phone must have dialed out while it was in my pocket. She couldn’t have heard that much, or I doubted she would have been as civil as she jus’ was. I mean, shit, I paid the mortgage, groceries, and her fucking car note. The bitch didn’t wear nothing cheap and neither did my son, but that wasn’t enough for her. I was good to her dumb ass. She was a mortgage specialist for a large bank and I didn’t ever ask her to spend a dime of her fuckin’ money.

  When we graduated high school and she wanted to go to expensive-ass Hampton University she didn’t even have to ask; I paid for that shit no questions asked. I didn’t even know what the hell she did with her money, but I knew she didn’t have to spend any of it to live. I took care of all of that and whatever extra. All I wanted from her was to sit back, keep her fuckin’ mouth shut, and just chill. She knew I always came through eventually. She was probably horny. You know how women get when they ain’t had none. Either they find someone else to take care of that or they get real bitchy. I knew Michelle wasn’t dumb enough to run out on me so she ain’t have no other choice but to be a bitch right now. I decided to call her back and try to calm her down one last time.

  “What, Rasheed?” I could hear her voice trembling.

  “Baby, you crying? Why the hell you crying?” I asked, thinkin’, damn women are emotional. They get mad and scream like they gonna kill somebody one minute and then cry like a damn baby the next.

  “Rasheed, you leave me and Trey here alone all the time. You don’t know what it’s like to be lonely, to be in that bed by myself every night. To have your son asking for his father and I can’t tell him why you aren’t here with him, or tell him why you aren’t answering the phone or calling him back. I can’t invite my friends over ’cause I never know when you and your crew
are coming through to take care of some business or count money. What am I supposed to do?” she cried into the phone.

  “He’s two, Michelle. If he ever asks for me you tell him I’m at work. Not that he’d understand but, damn. It’s not like I’m locked up or not doin’ my duties as a father. No one ever said you can’t have friends come over. You killin’ me wit’ this shit!”

  I honestly didn’t like hearing her like this. I had to figure something out. The last thing I needed was her breaking down and doing something drastic. She knew too much of my business, from my suppliers down to a majority of the brothas who worked the streets for me. I needed her to be on my side.

  “Michelle, calm down, I’ma come through there in a minute to see about you and Trey. Then I have to go after that. I gotta get this money, baby. All right? Stop crying. I’ll be there in a minute.” I hung up the phone.

  I looked at Honey sitting patiently inside the IHOP, waiting for our meals. She was a good girl. I knew she wouldn’t ask me any questions. I would take her with me to Michelle’s and tell her I gotta take care of something for a minute. I wouldn’t try this shit wit’ too many chicks but I was certain if I told Honey to stay put she’d do just that. Afterward, we could head to the hotel and relax for the rest of the night.

  I figured that I had a few more minutes before Honey would be back so I decided to return a couple more phone calls. My boy Derrick had called while I was at the club so I decided to call him back first. More than likely, he would know what all the other phone calls were about. Really, everybody was supposed to report to Derrick first, and only if they couldn’t get in touch with him and if it was important, they called me. Shit, matter of fact, half the niggas I had working for me had never met me, let alone had my damn number. I dialed Derrick’s number.