by Chunichi
As Mariah stood looking at herself in the mirror, she knew exactly what to expect. This feeling was way too familiar. With pregnancy occurring at least twice a year, she had to wonder if she was the queen of fertility. But she already knew her next move—straight to the abortion clinic. Unlike most women, whose dilemma would be whether or not to keep the baby, her dilemma was determining which man she would tell of the mishap.
From which would I get the most attention? Who would beg me to have the baby? Who would be upset? Mariah washed her hands then touched up her hair. Her worst fear was her girls finding out, especially Nina.
She headed back to the table with a worried look on her face. Not even her strongest front game was able to hide her anxiety.
“Is everything okay?” Rochelle asked when Mariah returned.
“I think I’m getting a urinary tract infection.”
“Oh Lord. You know what that means,” Nina said.
Mariah had been pregnant so many times, her friends knew all the signs and could almost predict with certainty when she was pregnant.
“Nina, please. I don’t feel like hearing it right now.”
“I’m just saying, you always have something going on. You’ve had everything in the book, from a bacterial infection to a yeast infection to a UTI, STD, PID, PCOS, HBO, CNN, ESPN”—Nina began to laugh so hard, she couldn’t finish her sentence.
Feeling the need to protect her perfect image, Mariah quickly interjected, “I’ll have you know, when I went to the gynecologist for my annual exam, he said that my vagina was the cleanest vagina he has ever seen. Fuck you very much!”
“Well, you know what that means?” Nina asked.
“You need to get another gynecologist,” Rochelle chimed in.
“No, I’m serious. I thought he was joking, so I asked if he was serious, and he said yes. It made me feel really good.” Mariah gave a satisfied smiled as though she was giving herself a silent pat on the back.
“Well,” Nina said, “when it’s vacuumed out every other month, what would you expect?”
Nina and Rochelle laughed until tears came to their eyes.
Mariah gave them a disapproving look. “You know what? Y’all are some insensitive bitches!” She started to gather her things and leave but realized she had no one to blame but herself.
Mariah had had at least twenty abortions in the past ten years. It wasn’t a laughing matter, because she was using abortions as birth control. Nina and Rochelle had been dealing with it for so long, they’d learned to make light of the situation.
“Umph. Who is that?” Rochelle said, interrupting their laugh session. “He is sexy.”
“Where?” Nina said.
They all followed Rochelle’s eyes.
“Oh, that’s um, what’s his name, from out Tidewater Park.” Nina snapped her finger a few times as she wracked her brain, trying to remember the guy’s name.
“Li’l Man. He’s one of Jigga’s boys.” Mariah sipped her White Zinfandel.
“Yeah, that’s his name!”
“Oh, that’s Li’l Man? I heard of him. I didn’t know he was one of Jigga’s boys. All them niggas got money. But I thought he was supposed to be locked up. He must have just got out.” Rochelle always knew the latest with all the dopeboys on the streets.
“Yeah, I know. What is he doing with Young Boy? Wasn’t he fuckin’ Li’l Man’s baby momma while he was in jail?” Nina said, adding to the gossip.
“Baby momma? Who is his baby momma?” Mariah asked.
“Some young chick from the park name Tee-Tee,” Nina said. “And from what I know about her, she don’t play.”
“Well, it sounds like he has too much drama for me. I’m definitely not trying to have any problems with a project chick.” Mariah stated making it very clear in case of an emergency she had nobody’s back.
“Suit yourself,” Rochelle said. “I’m from the streets, so the bitch don’t scare me. I’ll take his ass. Y’all think he still got some money?”
“Well, I know he had it before he got locked up. He used to keep that chick Stacey, which he called his sister, laced. And he comes up to the club all the time gambling with Mouse. I’m surprised you’ve never seen him.”
“Well, I’m about to get to know him.” Rochelle looked over to the bar and gave Li’l Man the eye.
As they ate their food, Rochelle continuously sent flirtatious gestures over to Li’l Man, from seductively licking the cherries from her drink to sucking the meat off her chicken bones as though she was sucking the last drop of come out of the head of a penis.
Tired of the performance, Nina said, “Damn, girl! If he doesn’t come over here after all that, then he’s just not interested. And not only that—”
Before Nina could finish her statement, Li’l Man came walking over. “What’s up, ladies?” he said as he stood at their table.
Nina and Mariah both had to admit, he was indeed fine.
“Heeeey!” They all sang, giddy-headed.
“You got my attention. So what’s good, ma?” he said to Rochelle.
Rochelle gave him her most seductive look. “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
“Me and my man are just finishing up a few drinks. I got a little running around to do. When I’m done, can I call you?” He pulled an iPhone out of his pocket.
Mariah noticed he had the same phone as she. iPhone? That’s an odd phone for a dopeboy.
“A’ight,” Rochelle answered with a huge grin, and quickly began rummaging through her red Marc Jacobs bag that Nina had given her for her cell phone for her birthday.
As Rochelle retrieved her phone so they could exchange numbers, Mariah stood up and began to brush crumbs off her clothes. Her way of showing off her newly purchased plump Brazilian booty and breastlift while giving Li’l Man a whiff of her Dolce & Gabbana Sicily perfume.
Knowing her friend all too well, Nina just shook her head at Mariah’s desperate attempt for attention.
“Well, you ladies have a good night,” Li’l Man said, after saving Rochelle’s number.
Before the girls could respond, they noticed a huge commotion at the front of the restaurant. They all tried to see who it was and noticed some chick wave her hands in the air, and push the waitress out the way. Then she and two other girls with her started making their way toward them.
The second she was up on them, Li’l Man said, “Tee-Tee, I ain’t got time for your shit.”
“Shut the fuck up!” she hissed.
Nina looked over at Mariah and Rochelle. I know this bitch better not say a word to me.
Rochelle looked like she was waiting for Tee-Tee to say the wrong word or make the wrong move.
“How the fuck did you even know I was here? You and your stupid-ass crew following me now? You need to be more worried about being a mother and taking care of my son.” Li’l Man attempted to walk away.
“So you fuckin’ other bitches now?” Tee-Tee grabbed Li’l Man’s arm, rolling her eyes at the girls.
“Bitch, who the fuck are you referring to as a bitch?” Rochelle responded without delay.
Tee-Tee diverted her attention back to Li’l Man. “We are going to be a family. What part of that don’t you get?” She turned toward Rochelle. “Look, I don’t know who you are and don’t care to know,” she yelled, her long, colorful, acrylic fingernail in Rochelle’s face, “but this here is my man.”
Rochelle aimed a punch at Tee-Tee’s face, barely grazing her as Nina and Mariah held her back. She then tried to take off her five-inch stiletto heel to beat Tee-Tee’s head in.
Nina reached behind her for her purse, sure not to take her eyes off the scene, and felt for the Mace bottle. She watched Tee-Tee’s friends closely to see what plans they had.
“Let it go,” Mariah begged at least eight or nine times in Rochelle’s ear.
By this time, everyone was looking at the ladies, trying to figure out what all the commotion was about.
Tee-Tee gathered her composure and headed out the resta
urant with her friends. “This ain’t over, Li’l Man,” she announced while leaving.
Once she was out the door, Li’l Man turned around and said, “Ladies, sorry about all of this. Rochelle, can I still call you?”
“Yeah.”
Mariah shook her head. What woman would want a man after going through so much drama during the initial meeting?
When Li’l Man walked away, they all stood there and looked at one another.
Rochelle flopped down in her chair. “Order me a drink!” she yelled. “Matter of fact, order us all one,” she yelled out again. “Whew! Now that that’s over, I can finish my meal.”
“You know you’re a trip, right?” Nina said.
“No, I just want to eat. Hell, this dinner costs enough. One of y’all rich bitches got my check?”
“Rocky Marriage”
Later that night when Nina arrived home, she was a little relieved to see Mouse’s Mercedes Benz CLS550 sitting in the garage. At least he’s not still at the strip club, she thought as she pulled in beside his car.
As she walked through the door, she yelled out, “Mouse!”
There was no response.
“Hellooooo! Mouse!”
Still there was no answer. Nina started walking in the direction of their bedroom. As she walked through the door, she heard the shower running. She stood outside the bathroom door, deciding whether she should walk up and snatch the door open or just leave him be.
She made her decision when she saw his jeans lying on the floor with some cash sticking out each of the pockets. She bent over and picked up the pants, making sure she grabbed the money first.
Nina laid the pants across the bed and proceeded to count. “Two, four, six . . .” She started with the smallest bills, twenties, then continued with the hundreds. She counted close to ten thousand dollars.
Nina found it odd that Mouse would have so much money on him. Mouse was sure to deposit the money he made from the club in the night deposit drop box each night, and never carried so much money in his pockets. She wondered just what the hell went wrong that he didn’t make the drop this particular night.
She placed the money on the dresser and sat on the bed. She turned on the television and waited for him to get out the shower. She wanted to know what the hell was going on, and she was soon going to find out, because she heard the water turn off in the shower.
She glanced toward the bathroom door and happened to notice a business card on the floor where the pants was. Just as she stood up to get it, the bathroom door opened.
As soon as Mouse stepped through the door, Nina confronted him, her hands on her hips. “Mouse!” she said, looking him directly in the face.
Startled, Mouse jumped. “Oh shit! You scared the hell out of me, woman.”
Nina didn’t say a word. She just looked him up and down.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” He gently brushed past her and went to pick up his pants.
“They’re on the bed.” She moved toward the business card on the floor and stood on it. She watched Mouse as he searched his jeans pockets and then she pointed toward the bundle of money that sat on the nightstand. “Is that what you are looking for?”
“Yeah. And why is it on the dresser?”
“No, honey. I’m asking the questions. Why do you have that money on you? Did you not make the deposit when you left the club this morning?”
“I made the drop, Nina.” Mouse coolly headed toward the dresser to gather his money.
Nina was convinced she’d caught Mouse in a lie. “So where the fuck is that money from? And let me see the deposit receipt.”
“There is no deposit receipt. I put the money in the night deposit box, genius.”
“So why do you have the fuckin’ money, Mouse?”
“You know you can ruin a wet dream, right?” Mouse shook his head. “I was planning to get you something nice. I came across a page you ripped out the Elle magazine that had a boot and bag set you circled on the page. I was going to surprise you with it.”
For a second a smile almost came across Nina’s face. But then she snapped back to reality. Nina wasn’t some young-ass girl who fell for any and everything. She didn’t believe a word Mouse was saying. He hated shopping, and he’d never done anything like that before. Nina knew that was straight bullshit Mouse was selling, and she wasn’t buying. She watched him as he dried off and put on his boxer briefs.
When Mouse opened the closet and pulled out a pair of jeans, she said, “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Out,” Mouse said as he put his jeans on.
“What the fuck you mean, out? You just got in.”
“My job is away from home. I have to leave the house to make money.”
“Yeah, but you don’t have to be consumed by your job. It’s not like you’re a fuckin’ doctor, Mouse. Come on.”
“Look, Nina, I’m taking care of business. Most women would be happy to have a man that does that.”
“What? You think you got all the shit you have from me sitting on my ass? Did you forget I am the reason you have that club?”
“Of course, not. No matter how hard I try to forget, you always seem to remind me. It’s funny how you can always remember what you’ve done for me. Do you have an itemized list hidden someplace?” Mouse gave a sarcastic laugh as he put his shirt on.
“I don’t need a list. It’s pretty simple. I do every fuckin’ thing. What have you ever done for me?”
Mouse laughed. “Are you serious?”
“Dead fuckin’ serious.” Nina stepped in front of Mouse with her arms folded.
“Okay, Nina, I’ll entertain you for a moment and play your little game. For starters, that fuckin’ Porsche truck in the garage, that ridiculously large diamond on your hand, and this fuckin’ oversized-ass house are just a few things I’ve done, you ungrateful-ass female!” He pushed Nina aside then stormed out the room, slamming the door behind him.
Nina didn’t bother following him. Now that he was gone, she could finally take a look at the business card she’d been standing on. The card read, “Ramona LeShay Real Estate,” and had a picture of a nice-looking black woman with a cell and office number. She decided to give Miss Ramona a call on her cell.
“Hey, hon,” a female voice said after only a single ring. “So what did you decide?”
“Hello?” Nina said, taken by surprise.
“I’m sorry. Who am I speaking with?”
“Well, it’s not your hon, for sure, but it is his wife—”
Click!
The woman hung up.
Nina was furious. She didn’t know what to do next. She had dealt with Mouse’s cheating one time and refused to accept it a second time. One part of her wanted to call the woman back. Another part of her wanted to call Mouse. But where would that get her? All he would do is tell another lie. She went against her judgment and called him anyway.
“Money Problems”
Mouse was pissed off; he was getting tired of Nina’s shit. True, she’d put the club in her name and even given him the money for closing costs and down payment, but he’d given that back to her threefold by now.
He looked down at his constantly ringing phone. Nina. I ain’t trying to hear shit she got to say. He sent her to voice mail. He had some things he needed to take care of and talking to Nina would only distract him. That was the last thing he needed when he was meeting with Jigga. He needed to be on guard at all times. Hell, his life depended on him being on guard.
Again the phone rang. Mouse looked at it and thought maybe it was best to speak with her and get it over with. He looked out the window to see if Jigga or his boys were nearby. They weren’t, so he answered.
“What up?”
“What up”’ You would really walk out of this house and have me call you over and over and then answer the phone, ‘What up?’ like nothing happened?”
“Listen, Nina, I don’t have time for this.”
“You don’t have time?”<
br />
“Let’s talk when I get home.”
“Let’s talk when you get home?”
Mouse hated when Nina repeated after him. “Listen, there’s something I need to do. I’ll call you back.” He hung up before she could say another word.
Mouse knew he was going to have to come clean with Nina about his issue. It was an issue even he wasn’t ready to admit. He kept asking himself how he got in this predicament. How the hell did he end up owing someone money over gambling?
He didn’t mean for it to get this out of control. On the real, he never was even into gambling. He started having little card tournaments at the club here and there per the request of his boys. From there he started to participate in a game or two. Then he gradually went from card tournaments to having nightly gambling sessions ranging from dice, to blackjack, to poker. Before he knew it, the number of participants was getting larger, and Mouse ended up with a small casino in his club after hours, with him being the biggest player. After a while the small change he was making at the club wasn’t enough to satisfy his hunger for winning, so he started hooking up with a local bookie. Now that shit was a whole new ball game. These cats gambled big, and there were no breaks when it came to them collecting their money. Before he could blink, Mouse was waist-deep in gambling debt.
So consumed in his thoughts, Mouse didn’t hear the knock on the window of his car. He looked out and saw Jigga standing a couple of inches from the driver’s side window. Not being the type to fear another man, he didn’t even flinch at the sight of Jigga. Even though deep inside he knew that this was one man he should fear because Jigga didn’t think twice when it came down to hurting someone, especially when his money was involved. Mouse had witnessed Jigga break a nigga’s arm. And to think cats always thought that was some old television mobster bullshit.
Mouse rolled his window down. There was no way he was getting out the car. If that shit made him look like a punk, so be it.
“Big Mouse! What up, baby?”
Jigga and Mouse shook hands.
“Ain’t shit, man. I got a little something for ya. You know a nigga trying to straighten you.”
“A little something?” Jigga leaned his head in the window of the car. “Nigga, you owe me a whole lot, so what the fuck is a little?”