Shorty Gotta Be Grown

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Shorty Gotta Be Grown Page 13

by T. C. Littles


  In this case, all it took was for me to watch a few YouTube videos and take a three-hour trip to Home Depot for supplies and a tutorial from one of the workers for me to become a regular ol’ handywoman. It might’ve taken me a minute to catch on, a few more trips to the hardware store to replace some misused supplies, and even a hand from Calvin, but those were small hurdles to my independent ass. Although Calvin was a great provider and protector, I’d never waited for a man to show me how to survive. Cal met me already in survival mode. Growing up around a weak mother made me strong. Porsha, however, would be strong because I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “G’morning, babe. You got up this early to cook ya man some breakfast?” Trying not to laugh, Calvin knew I wasn’t about to burn no bacon or biscuits.

  “Boy, bye. All I’m burning is this blunt. I’ll pass it after a few more puffs. As far as a meal goes, I suggest you go back to sleep and dream up a dish. If I get in that kitchen whippin’ anything up, it’ll be a hot pot of grits.”

  “Don’t start with that shit, damn.” Calvin got aggravated. “You went to sleep talking shit, had the nerve to babble some bullshit in ya sleep, and don’t think I didn’t hear you mumbling about how you should suffocate me with a pillow before you tiptoed out of the bedroom earlier.”

  “Oh shit, I was talkin’ in my sleep? And you heard that this morning but still didn’t rise to serve ya custo?” I laughed until my side hurt.

  “Yeah, I did. You’ve gone far enough, and you’ve talked enough shit. Game over, Trin. I ain’t trying to hear nothing else about ol’ girl.”

  “You know what? Fuck it. You’re right. Let me start over.” I chose to take the high road, a route I hadn’t traveled often. “Good morning, bae. Naw, I ain’t cookin’ up nothing this morning but some crack if you need me to. I can call in some Coney Island for you to pick up, though.”

  His mood lightened as he realized I wasn’t antagonizing him, but making a truce. He fell in line. That’s what couples do: argue, then get right back to lovin’.

  “You fooled a nigga with all that cooking you used to do back in the day, Trinity. Had me thinking you was gonna burn for me every day and shit.”

  “Nah, I ain’t never have no plans of slaving over a stove all day every day. You’re absolutely right. You did get played.”

  Pulling me up out of my seat and down onto his lap, he then rested his chin on my shoulder and began kissing on my neck. I ignored his morning breath. What I couldn’t ignore was his thick dick sticking me in the back. What I’d always loved about Calvin was his ability to calm me down. His ability to stroke my feisty fire out, lighting a whole new one between my legs.

  “I love you, Trin. You know that, right?” he questioned, kissing my earlobe.

  “You better love me, Cal. What happened with ol’ girl better not happen again.” I wasn’t finished talking, but he put his finger on my lips.

  “Shh, bae. We said we weren’t gonna do that. I fucked up then but haven’t since. I was foul, but you can’t keep punishing me. You can’t keep putting yourself through that, plus reliving all the emotions I shouldn’t have had you feeling anyway. I’m sorry. But I swear I’ma do right by my family. I’ve been showing you that, and I’m not done. Everything I do is to make sure y’all are straight. Believe me, Trin.” Calvin was just as apologetic today as he was the day I pulled up at his jump off’s house.

  I wanted to tell him that we were all good and all was forgiven, but we weren’t all good on that tip, and he wasn’t 100 percent forgiven. I wasn’t sure any woman got over her husband having an affair, especially when they’re pregnant. I was a rider for Cal, but I had a heart and a helluva fear. I didn’t want to be a weak fool for a man like my mother was. Being too far gone in love and accepting will make you do some crazy things.

  “Calvinnnn,” I heard Robin’s loud mouth screaming. I cringed. “Morning, Trinity-boo.”

  Of all of our customers, she racked my nerves the most, and not because she begged. Robin didn’t ask for anything, ever, but to be treated equal. She wanted to sit and kick it with me while she smoked the dope I sold her. No. She wanted my kids to call her Auntie Robbie. Hell no. She even asked if me and Cal could fund one of her fly-by-night decisions to get rehabilitated at a clinic. “Me no speak no muthafuckin’ English,” was my response to that question.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Calvin was playfully trying to hold me down while I was trying to muscle my way off his lap. The moment had passed. He knew how irked I was by Robin.

  “You better stop and let me go.” I was just as playful with him but put a little more weight into breaking his grip.

  Then Robin interjected, “Aw, ain’t y’all so cute? Calvin, you better not have my girl fighting over yo’ ass no more. Other than Mack, I heard what went down at the cabaret last night.”

  “Her big-ass mouth always got some drama coming from it,” Calvin complained, releasing his grip, knowing Robin might’ve stirred awake the napping beast in me.

  “Don’t blame her, Cal. Your ass is the one who gave these peasants something about me juicy enough to gossip on,” I snapped. “Hurry up and get rid of her. I’m going to do the morning count from what Porsha made last night.”

  Calvin rushed to serve Robin as I made my way into the kitchen. Shaking my head, I was mad as hell about my name being on any of their tongues. I prided myself on waving to the little people from up top on my throne. Calvin’s indiscretions had not done nothing but knock me down a few levels in their eyes, plus made these thirsty hoes of our hood think there was a chance for them to creep with him. I know how it goes. Calvin is the one who doesn’t. He can’t think like a bitch because he’s not a bitch. Me, however, I’m that one. I’m already prepared to take a bitch shopping for her funeral outfit. Anyone can catch a death date behind trying to break up my family. Anyone.

  CHAPTER 18

  PORSHA

  Wide awake and staring at the ceiling, I was lost in my thoughts and low-key having a panic attack behind everything that happened last night. I could not wait until Nikola got out of school so we could talk. I needed her advice. Imani’s inexperienced ass would not know how to advise me or how to make me feel better. There was so much that happened that I wished I could change and take back, and I was devastated that I could not. I’d texted Street all night without getting a response even once. My feelings were all over the place. I didn’t care how pissed Street got about my dead-end threats about telling my daddy about us. He knew I was too desperate for there to be an “us” to expose us and the truth. I felt played and rejected, and for that, I felt regret and resentment. I’d gone from happy to mad to sad all within a few hours.

  * * *

  In the middle of the night, when I’d gotten up to get Benzie a bottle and change his diaper, I’d taken a hot shower and played with my pussy the same way Street did before stroking my virginity away. I’d wanted to see how it felt to him, if it was still tight, and if he had a reason to come back for seconds, thirds, but first to accept my apology. I also had to cry my pain out in peace. The running flow of water made it so no one could hear my light sobs. I now knew how it felt to get played. I’d never wanted to be “that girl” in “this position.” But here I was.

  As I rolled over, my eyes hit the back of Imani’s head as well as the flicker from the television. We’d been watching reality shows all night. Imani was trying to cram as much cable in as she could before having to go home. And me, I was trying to keep my mind off Street as well as drown out my mother and father arguing. The shit they were saying to one another was embarrassing. Especially the part about my dad cheating. I was still thinking of something that would be worth Imani’s while to bribe her with. I couldn’t have my parents’ secrets floating through the hood.

  Come to find out that while my mom was carrying Benzie around in her belly and being a raging bitch, my dad was busy being a creep. He’d actually risked breaking up our family for a random piece of pussy. In between Trin
tossing threats his way and jumping up on tables and onto him like a championship wrestler, she even cried. As much as she and I bumped heads, I was actually on her side and mad at my dad. He couldn’t get a pass from me for being the man he’d always told me to stay away from. Yet and still, I couldn’t help Street double-cross him anymore.

  Rolling over, I plugged my dying phone into its charger and deleted the entire thread of risqué messages between me and Street. I didn’t have another dude I was talking to who could find the messages and get jealous. He probably wouldn’t have been shading me right now if I did. But what I did have was a nosy momma who’d go through my phone whenever she felt like it because she paid the bill. I knew better than to leave incriminating messages around. When the phone was finished doing its thang, I slid it underneath my pillow and closed my eyes to get some more sleep. I felt queasy and lightheaded, a sign of me having a hangover from last night.

  TRINITY

  “I take it Robin’s got her crack pack and has gone on about her way,” I spoke up, seeing Calvin walk past the kitchen doorway. I was stalking ol’ girl’s Twitter page to see if she’d said anything slick or out of the way since last night. Like with Calvin’s phone, I’d come up dry.

  He doubled back. “Yeah. I told her to start getting served around at the trap house on the block. I ain’t got time for her starting no fires here.” Calvin was trying to avoid his jump off continuously becoming a topic for us to discuss.

  “Good idea not to let an outsider burn ya house down.” My statement was loaded. “Anyway, are you picking us up some Coney Island or not? My stomach’s been growling ever since you mentioned food,” I grunted, rubbing my belly and poking out my lip.

  “Yeah. Call it in, and don’t forget to order Porsha’s little friend a breakfast special, too,” he said, reminding me of our daughter’s friend, who needed to wake up and get home immediately.

  Not only had Imani heard too much last night between Cal and me, but I also didn’t like people lounging at my house or freeloading all over my furniture and in my space. As bold and vivacious as I could be, I liked my privacy.

  After ordering everyone’s food, I took another sip of my mimosa, then went and sat on the floor of one of our lounge rooms. This room was reserved for counting money. There were a lot of rooms in our house since it used to be a four-family flat. Besides a clock to tell the time, there were no electronics in here. Distractions weren’t allowed. Focus was a must. We didn’t fuck around when it came to making sure our money was right.

  Untying the knot from the grocery store bag containing last night’s profits, I dumped all the cash onto the floor. Bills of every denomination except a two-dollar bill fell from it. We didn’t see a lot of those floating through the hood. I was getting ready to give Porsha some accolades and praise for a job well done until I got to the bottom of the pile. That was when I lost my muthafuckin’ mind. The hundred-dollar bills she’d bragged on collecting last night couldn’t buy the Jackson family nothing but property on the Monopoly board. Every last one of them was fake. My daughter had been played. Which meant I got played.

  In a haste to grab the fake bills off the floor and my phone to call my husband, I knocked my glass over and soiled my carpet. I was pissed as hell, but not enough to slow down to clean it up. I had a stupid-ass child to snatch up outta her sleep.

  “Yo, bae. What up? You want me to stop at the store or something?”

  “Hell naw! Fuck the store and that food. Hurry up and get ya ass home. Porsha . . .” I commenced giving him the short version of what happened and what was about to happen.

  CALVIN

  Ring, ring, ring.

  My phone was on jump. Naw, scratch that, my morning was on jump. It was like the craziness of last night had poured into my morning. Even ol’ girl called while I was grabbing our Coney Island, talking about she was in urgent care behind Trinity’s beatdown. I’d hung up and called the phone company to change my cell number but got sidetracked when Trinity called me, screaming about Porsha. I’d grabbed the Coney and come straight home but got stalled twice by a couple of custos.

  Finally, as I was two steps from hitting the upstairs front door, my cell rang again. I stopped and pulled it from my pocket, knowing Fame’s ring tone.

  “Yo, what up, bro?” I answered, glad he’d called. I knew I was gonna need his famous “attention” when it came time to follow up on whoever scammed my baby girl.

  “Shit, not a muthafuckin’ thang with me, chief. It’s you who seems to be in the middle of a war zone. You good? Trin good? What about li’l P and my big body Benz?” Being a concerned friend and godfather, Fame questioned me without hesitation about me and mine.

  “You must be outside,” I assumed.

  “Yup, yup, in the driveway. I called myself falling through to get a wake-and-bake session going with some cookie so we could kick it,” he responded. “Do you need to hit me up later? It kinda sound like you tied up and whatnot with the fam.”

  “I am, but you straight. I could actually use your help. Do me a solid and make ya way to the door so you can hold the trap down until I finish trying to figure out what went left here last night.”

  “One hundred, I’ve got you covered. Open up.”

  I rushed to let Fame in so I could kill two birds with one stone: trap and handle family business. There were junkies lined up and more coming up the block, all chasing their morning hits. I wasn’t about to miss out on sales behind a petty-ass argument about a grand. A nigga of my pedigree was more concerned with beating the brakes off whatever brave li’l nigga robbed me. Fuck trying to recoup my product or the cash. I’d spend a grand on McDonald’s in a month for Benzie. I was pissed off principle alone.

  I heard Trinity screaming from all the way downstairs. She was cutting Porsha up with her tongue, and I understood why. She didn’t want anyone in the streets to take anyone in this family as a weak link, all the way down to Benzie. I was sure my baby girl was gonna do all the research she could once her momma got up off of her ass for not recognizing counterfeit cash.

  “Bro, these rollies out here heavy. Where the stash at so I can get to serving ’em?” Fame got straight to hustling as soon as he stepped foot into the foyer of my house.

  “Underneath the floorboard in the bedroom. Good looking, Fame,” I thanked him in a hood way.

  “Chill. It ain’t no thang. You and ya squad is live as hell upstairs. I heard y’all all the way in my car, so I know you got shit to get settled.”

  I went to speak, but he cut me off.

  “Don’t shit need to be said, bro. I already know what it is.”

  Giving him dap, I went back upstairs and got ready to get my house under control. My family wasn’t about to be dismantled over no petty-ass cash.

  PORSHA

  “Porshaaaa.” My mother’s howling voice shook the house.

  Before I had the chance to question what was wrong or to panic, my bedroom door flew open, and my face got hit with a wad of cash.

  “You don’t know fake money when you see it, stupid?”

  My heart stopped, and her yelling continued.

  “What in the fuck is wrong with your stupid ass?”

  I see the word of the day is “stupid.” Looking down at the crayon green money sitting in my lap and on my bed, I felt my stomach doing flips and bubbling. I really did feel stupid. I’d been checkin’ for ol’ boy last night ’cause I thought he was a baller. But the joke was on me. He was a bum who was about to have me knocked upside the head.

  “I swear they didn’t look like this last night.” I regretted saying the words as soon as I said them. I knew they sounded dumb. I blinked, felt my momma’s hand slap me in the mouth, and then heard Imani scream.

  “Shut up before you get some too,” my mom snapped at Imani, not caring that she was innocent and terrified.

  Imani leaped up, not wanting no part of the wrath I was receiving. She didn’t have to be told twice. Trinity had a way of making people wanna piss their p
ants. Me included. My momma wasn’t nobody’s joke, so you’d better believe I wasn’t laughing. I’d have done anything to turn back the hands of time or simply get her off my head.

  “Ma, I swear to G, I’m sorry. It was dark.” I tried giving her another excuse.

  Trinity’s eyes stretched wide. She was looking like the devil himself, with horns and all, as she stared at me in disgust.

  “Why does she keep talking? Huh? Please send me an answer down for once! Lord, please tell me this child of mine ain’t as stupid as she’s trying to act like she is,” she shouted to the ceiling as if she were talking through it to the high heavens.

  She then started pacing back and forth while punching her fist into her other hand, acting like she was possessed. I sat quiet and still, not knowing how else to respond. The last thing I wanted was her fist attacking my face.

  “Yo, chill the hell out, Trin.” My father’s voice rang over my mom’s.

  She jumped to answer first. “I told you I was gonna get your stupid-ass daughter together for giving our product away.”

  “But like this?”

  “Uh, yeah. Did she get the dumb gene from you?” My momma flipped the script on him.

  “Don’t get choked up on the muthafuckin’ wall, Trin.” My dad rose his voice again.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. When you’re done choking me out, make sure to choke ya daughter out next. She’s the one who let a nigga scheme her with some fake hundos.”

  I gulped hard, not knowing what reaction I was about to get from my father.

  CALVIN

  Stepping into my daughter’s bedroom, I swooped Benzie up and gave him to Imani, then sent her to the living room. I tried keeping as much of our family business private as possible. Once Benzie was old enough to understand street politics and the dangerous life I lived, he would be a part of family meetings as well.

 

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