Finessed a Dope Boy's Heart

by Racquel Williams

  I picked up the phone to call the number and make sure that he had really found a job. That would be my last task of the day before rushing home to freshen up before I had to get to Lenox Mall for this little rendezvous.

  I had to admit, I couldn’t remember the last time that I’d been this excited about anything.

  Chapter Twelve

  Gina

  “Well, look who it is,” Lauren said, looking me up and down like she was ready to hit me. I couldn’t say that she didn’t have a good reason to. I stood in her doorway with a handful of toys for Jasheem and some Applebee’s and a bottle of Moscato for her. She had been my best friend since we were little, almost her son’s age, and I had committed the ultimate betrayal.

  “Can I come in?” I asked her humbly. I knew she was gon’ read my ass left to right, and I deserved every damn bit of that shit.

  “I’on know. The last time I let ya ass in my shit, you stole my man,” she said, loud as hell, popping her lips with her hands on her hips. I knew she was putting on a show for the hood, and I didn’t try to stop her. She had every right.

  “Girl, bye. His ass for everybody,” I said, rolling my eyes. I mean, if I was gon’ be on the outs with my best friend, it wasn’t gonna be behind a muthafucka that had lied to both of us.

  Rolling her eyes, she stepped to the side so that I could come in. I walked in and looked around. I could tell that she was in her feelings because she had her “Fuck That Nigga” playlist on blast and was cleaning her house. There was sage burning and all, which let me know that she was trying to get any hint of his ass out of her space. I hated this for her. I hated this for both of us. And I wanted to give Rasheem’s ass a taste of his own medicine. That was why I was there. Well, other than to apologize. I was there to let her know about the plan that I’d come up with to get back at his ass for breaking our hearts.

  I went into the kitchen and put the Moscato and food on the counter, then left and headed down the hallway toward Jasheem’s room. When I walked in, he was lying on his bed, reading on his tablet. That was one thing that I loved about Lauren. She was a great mother. While most moms bought their kids gaming systems and sat them in front of the TV, she was the kind that took him to museums, and he had a Kindle with a subscription so that he could download as many books as he wanted to. Lauren wasn’t a typical project mom. She was just a mom who happened to live in the projects.

  “Well, what fantasy world are we visiting today?” I asked, after standing there watching him for a few minutes. He was a really good kid. I wished she knew who his father was so that she could get some real support and not just handouts from Rasheem’s ass. But because she didn’t know, she’d named him after the two possibilities—Jakeel and Rasheem.

  “Auntie Ginaaaa!” he hollered in excitement. He placed his tablet down on the bed before hopping up and running into my arms. I hugged him tightly because it had been months since I’d seen him. When Lauren had found out about Rasheem and me, she’d told me to stay out of both of their lives. That was a pain that hurt worse than what I’d felt when Rasheem’s wife had busted into the hotel room. I was losing not only my best friend but also the child whose life I had been in since before he was born. I couldn’t have children of my own, so he was all I had.

  “I bought you something,” I said, holding out the gift bag that had an art kit, canvases, a sketchpad, and some journals in them.

  Jasheem loved to draw, sketch, and paint, and he loved to make up his own stories. He was a little artist in the making. But he got it honest because Lauren used to dance and sing. She got sidetracked from leaving here and going to art school when she started messing with Jakeel and then came Rasheem, and she was stuck here, having to put her dreams on pause to raise a child alone, like so many other mothers.

  Taking the bag out of my hand, he went back to his bed and dumped the contents onto it and looked back at me with the biggest smile on his face. Rushing back over to me, he gave me another tight hug that made me smile from ear to ear. I loved this little boy and his mama more than life itself, and if there was one thing that I would never do again, it was let anything—or anyone—come between us.

  “What do you say, Jay?” Lauren asked, making me jump and turn around.

  I hadn’t heard her walk up behind me. She gave me a smirk that let me know that she could’ve fucked me up if she wanted to, and probably would’ve if her son wasn’t in the house. Instead, she handed me a wineglass filled to the brim with the Moscato that I’d brought. She’d put several cubes of ice in the glass since it wasn’t chilled enough when I brought it.

  “Thank you, Auntie Gina!” he said, looking up into my face with his little arms still wrapped tightly around my waist. “I was about to it, Mama. Promise,” he whined.

  “You are so welcome, baby boy. And she knows you were. She’s raising you right, so she just had to make sure,” I told him, trying to ease his busy little mind. “Now, why don’t you go draw me a picture, and maybe later, you can read me one of your new stories?”

  Pulling away and nodding, he rushed to his bed and started ripping the plastic from the packages. For some reason, I caught myself doing what I’d always done from the moment that he was born. Staring at him, I was trying to see features that told me who his father was. I didn’t know who Rasheem was at the time that Jay was born, but now that I knew him—intimately—I found myself searching for his features in my nephew’s face.

  It was weird, because he looked like Rasheem and Jakeel, depending on the angle and the way the light hit his face. But more than anything, he looked like Lauren. Giving up, just like I had on trying to get her ass to get a DNA test, I looked at him for a few moments more before turning to look at his mama. Lauren was smiling at her son too. But that smile vanished from her face when her eyes met mine. I felt like I was her child and hadn’t said, “thank you.” But I knew that what I’d done was way worse. She motioned with her head toward the front of the house, and I followed her, knowing that this conversation wasn’t about to be a pleasant one for me.

  When we got back to her living room, Lauren walked over to her door, making sure that it was locked and put the chain on it. I knew that she wasn’t expecting anyone to come in, so she was making sure that I wouldn’t be able to get out so quickly. That made my heart skip a beat. I sat on the couch, hoping that we would at least be able to talk this shit out civilly. But I knew that Lauren had a temper, and all it would take was one wrong word, and she would be upside my damn head.

  Sitting down in the chair across from me, she took a couple of sips of her wine. I couldn’t tell whether it was because she liked to watch me squirm, or because she was trying to calm her nerves. Knowing Lauren, it could’ve been either. Or both. Finally, she picked up the remote and turned the volume down on her television that was playing songs from her Spotify playlist called “Fuck That Nigga,” just like I’d said. That made me giggle, but when she looked at me, my laughter caught in my throat, and I waited for her to speak.

  “You know I ain’t gonna be as quick to forgive you as Jasheem was,” she started, and I nodded my head.

  “I know,” I said just above a whisper before gulping my wine. I had a feeling that I was gonna need about three of these just to be able to get through this conversation.

  “Slow down on that shit. I want you to remember this fuckin’ talk so that we never have to deal with this again,” she said, and I nodded and put my glass down. I gave her my undivided attention.

  “Listen, I am so sorry, Lauren. I should’ve never fucked you over for Rasheem. You’re my best friend. Nah, fuck that, you’re like family. I should’ve never let a man come between us.” I stated my apology before she lit into my ass.

  “You’re right. We are family. How long have we known each other, G?” she asked me, and I let my eyes roll back in my head while I did the math.

  “Fifteen years.”

  “Who took you in when yo’ daddy put ya ass out because you were fuckin’ niggas?”
/>   “You.”

  “Who would be in the middle of the bullshit with you when them muthafuckas would do you dirty?”

  “You.”

  “Who put you in rehab when that last one got you hooked on meth?” she asked, and I was feeling worse and worse by the minute.

  “You.”

  “And who beat the bitch ass who was in yo’ fuckin’ house, actin’ like shit was sweet when you got outta rehab?”

  “You.”

  “Whose shoulder did you cry on?”

  “Yours.”

  “And who kept yo’ ass from relapsing. Even handcuffing you to the bed to make sure you ain’t go cop no shit?”

  “You—”

  “And how many times have I ever fucked you over?”

  “Not one.”

  “So, why in the hell would you do me like that?” she asked, and I felt so bad because the hurt was evident in her voice. Before I could respond, she burst into tears. I would’ve never imagined that she cared about Rasheem as much as she did, and it made me wonder if she knew about his wife. She couldn’t if she was this fucked up behind him and me.

  “L-Boogie,” I called her by the nickname that she’d gotten in high school because she could sing like the singer Lauryn Hill. She looked up at me with wet eyes, and my heart broke for her. I hated to be the one to tell her this part because I was sure it was gonna devastate her. “You know he’s married, right?”

  She burst out laughing, but there were tears still spilling down her face as well. I was so confused at that moment. I didn’t know if my friend had just lost her mind because there wasn’t shit funny about what I’d just told her. Picking up my glass, I started sipping on it again while I waited for her to stop laughing. A few sips later, she was still laughing hard as hell. It was crazy. She would seem like she was about to stop laughing, and then, right when I thought she’d got herself together, she would bust out laughing once more.

  Shaking my head, I got up and went into the kitchen to refill my glass. When I got in there, I picked up the bottle, about to pour some more into the glass, but decided to just bring the whole damn bottle with me.

  “Grab those other two bottles out of the fridge, biiiitch. We gon’ need them,” Lauren yelled from the living room. I didn’t know how she thought I could carry three bottles of wine and a glass, but I figured that shit out. When I came back into the living room, her glass was empty too, and I knew it was half-full when I’d left the room. “Whew! All that laughing had me parched.”

  She fake fanned herself and took one of the unopened bottles and popped it open. Pouring her glass damn near full, she put it to her lips and drank that shit down like it was water. Shaking my head, I refilled my glass halfway and sipped it, waiting for her to tell me what was so damn funny.

  “Gina . . .” she started, looking at me like I had to be dumb as hell. “Baby . . .” she said, and I knew she was about to talk to me like I was stupid. “Yes, I knew the nigga was married. I also know that he has a daughter that ain’t too much younger than us. Why do you think that nigga stay droppin’ stacks on me? You think he wanted his perfect life disrupted by a possibly illegitimate child? He was paying to keep me quiet,” she said, refilling her glass, her eyes glued on me, giving me the chance to soak up what she’d just told me.

  “That shit would ruin his life and his reputation,” I said, my face lighting up.

  “Exaaaactly. And he’s still payin’ a bitch to keep that shit a secret. Personally, I think he’s dumb as all hell to be paying on a baby that may not even be his. Especially when they have take-home DNA kits at the pharmacy nowadays. I believe he’s paying for the delusion of having a son, since his wife only gave him the one child, and it was a daughter.”

  “His ego is—”

  “Bigger than his dick,” she said, and we both busted out laughing. “And that’s big as fuck because that nigga is hung like a damn horse.”

  “Say that,” I said, and she quickly shot me a look. I didn’t do shit but shrug, because she couldn’t get mad at me for speaking facts. The only reason I knew was because she’d brought me into their sex life to appease his ass.

  “So, imagine my shock when word hit the hood that you were engaged to his ass. One, I was pissed because I was like, nah, my main bitch wouldn’t do no shit like that behind my back.”

  I hung my head because I had hoped that the conversation about what I had done would be over. But I knew that was wishful thinking because what I did was fucked up.

  “Then . . . then . . . When I saw that shit on Facebook, I kinda felt a way because I had been dealin’ wit’ his ass for years, and he gave you a ring and not me. But theeeen, I had to bust out laughing, because I knew that he knew I would’ve thrown that shit back up in his damn face because I knew he couldn’t marry me when he was already married. I wanted to call you and bust your little bubble. But I knew that, eventually, you’d find out, and that way, you wouldn’t be tryin’a make a bitch seem like I was hatin’ on yo’ ass.”

  “Well, that shit slapped me right in the damn face . . . literally,” I said, shaking my head.

  “That bitch popped you, huh?” she asked with a giggle. “I always told his ass he was underestimating her. She may be professional and shit, but no woman takes disrespect at the level that he was doin’ that shit. Honestly, I been watching the news, expecting her to shoot his ass if she ain’t left him already.”

  “Oh, she left his ass, ’cause he been callin’ and textin’ me, beggin’ me to forgive him. Talkin’ about he finna get divorced, so we can really get married now,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m surprised he ain’t been hittin’ you up too.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t know if he has or not. That nigga been blacklisted,” she said with a shrug, and I could tell that she was through with his ass. Honestly, I was too. I wasn’t about to lose the only real family that I’d had behind his fucked-up ass. And all he was gonna do, if I did take him back, was do me like he’d done his first wife. And then my ass would be on an episode of The First 48.

  “I’m surprised you ain’t fall for the okey doke, though,” she said, looking at me over the rim of her glass.

  “Nah, I’m done too. I ain’t about to lose you and Jay behind his ass. I mean, he was fuckin’ you behind her back, and went behind your back and was fuckin’ me. It ain’t worth it.”

  “I hear you, boo,” she said, and I could tell that she didn’t believe me. I could show her ass better than I could tell her. “You wanna know what’s worse, though?” she said, and I was there for all of it. I’d missed my best friend and couldn’t wait to tell her about my plans.

  “What, bitch?” I asked, chomping at the bit for the tea.

  “He was behind getting Jakeel locked up because he caught him in here with me. Set him the fuck up,” she said, her speech starting to slur. “And what got me was, that nigga had a whole wife. How the fuck he gon’ be mad that I had somebody else when he had a whole fuckin’ family at home?”

  That was it. I was waiting for the missing piece of the puzzle. I wanted to ruin Rasheem, and she’d just given me the ammo I needed to make that shit happen.

  “So, you wanna get some payback on that ass?” I asked, and she smiled brightly, letting me know that she was down for the bullshit.

  “What do you have in mind?” she said, taking slower sips from her glass so that she didn’t miss any of my plans. Karma was a bitter bitch, and, in this case, it was two bitches.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Shontelle

  I felt like I had been going through the motions for the past week. Jakeel wasn’t responding to me, and Mel had me on the blocked list. I had been tryin’a suck that shit up, but it was starting to weigh on me. I’d tried to pop up at his mama’s crib, but she was rude as fuck and told me that he was at work. When I asked where he was working, she wouldn’t tell me, and that shit pissed me off. I was about to cuss her old ass out for all the years that she’d been a pain in my ass, but here came his dyke-ass sister w
alking up on me and shit. It wasn’t like I was scared of her ass or nothing, but I wasn’t about to fight for no damn reason.

  “Girl, you a’ight?” Liza leaned over and asked me. I had been combing the same spot on my client’s hair for the last couple of minutes, caught up in my thoughts.

  “Nah, I’m not,” I admitted, but before I could go into detail, the door opened, and two women came in with the cutest little boy I had ever laid eyes on. One of the girls was white, and the other was black. I had never had a white woman in here, and that shit had me both nervous and excited at the same time. This could be the next level for my salon.

  They sat down, the little boy climbing up into the black girl’s lap, but playing in the white one’s hair. The way that the black girl looked at me was really familiar. I wondered if I knew her, but I saw so many people come through this shop a day that she could’ve been someone who had been coming in to get her brows done or buy bundles, and that’s why she looked so familiar.

  “We’ll be with you ladies in just a second,” I greeted them. I made it my business to welcome all of my customers. Yeah, I was the shop owner, but that personal interaction with each client, regardless of whether they were sitting in my chair, was the added touch that I felt made a huge difference and brought back the customers. Well, that and the free wine with their service.

  I finally got my head together and back in my business, where it should’ve been all along. I had built this shit without Keel, and if he didn’t want to be in my life anymore, that just made room for a nigga who really deserved me. At least, that was the lie that I was telling myself. I had never thought about my life without him, and even though that seemed like it may be what was happening, I just wasn’t ready to accept it.

  “Liza, can you put her under the dryer for me, please?” I asked after I’d whisked through putting the curlers in my client’s hair.

  The woman who was holding the little boy had been staring me down, and it made me curious about how she knew me. But, then again, a bitch was fine as hell. So, she might’ve just been admiring all this fineness. Who knew? But I was about to find out.