I'm Still Wifey

by Swinson, Kiki

  “Did she say she was coming back?” I asked as I began to plug in all of my curling irons and hot plate.

  “Yeah. She said she was just going to go and get something to eat.”

  “A’ight,” I said and then I signaled one of my clients who was sitting in the waiting room to walk over to the washbowl.

  “Come on, Tina,” I instructed her. “Whatcha getting done?” I asked her once she was standing directly in front of me.

  “I want you to make me a short wig with a Mohawk.”

  “What kind of hair did you get?”

  “Two packs of twenty-seven pieces,” she told me. I told her to sit down and that’s when I started working on her hair, which didn’t take long at all to hook up. Once she was out of the way, I hammered away at my other five clients for the day and before I knew it I was done and out of the door.

  From the shop, I decided to go home but I needed something to put on my stomach, so I stopped at the Taco Bell off the corner of Virginia Beach Boulevard and Independence. To my surprise, I saw Ricky’s baby mama Frances standing in line with some ol’ cornball-ass nigga, ordering herself some food. Now from the looks of things, nothing about her had changed in the past two months. She still held the crown for the “ Knock off Queen.” As I stood and watched her parade around this guy, with her jacked-up weaved hairdo, wearing a pair of Crest jeans, some ordinary-looking shirt, and a fake-ass Gucci bag draped over her bony-ass shoulders.

  On the other hand, her boyfriend was cute and he looked all right. Even though them brand new LeBron James sneakers he had on were a year old. And now that I could see him a little closer, he was definitely a new breed. His mannerisms told me that he had to be in the military. Now I say this because street niggas wear their jeans at least two to four sizes bigger than their norm. But this cat’s attire fit him to a tee. Yeah, ’cause the more and more I think about it this cat gotta be a boat boy. Street cats don’t pull all their dough outta their pocket at once unless their asses is being robbed. So, I cannot see this dummy being nothing else.

  Right after their food was handed to them, they both turned around to leave. Now, only after taking just one step, Frances noticed that I was standing only a few feet away from them. And I’ve got to admit that her facial expression turned really sour. She wasn’t trying to hide it either. But it didn’t faze me at all because the closer she got to me, the bigger my fake smile got.

  “Hello, stranger,” I said in a cheerful way. But she didn’t crack a smile when she said, “I heard you did some foul ass shit!”

  “What cha’ talking about?” I wanted to know.

  “I’ma be in the car,” her male friend interjected before she could speak. As he walked out of Taco Bell, I asked her again what was she talking about?

  “Don’t play stupid,” she replied sarcastically.

  “What the fuck you mean, ‘don’t play stupid?’” I snapped back.

  She stepped closer to me and said, “One of my peoples just told me they saw you coming outta the FBI Building right before Ricky got picked up from the Feds.”

  Ahh shit! I said to myself. Now what the fuck am I gonna do now? My thoughts continued as I stood in front of this project chick.

  “So, it must be true.”

  “Oh no, honey. That information you got is totally false.”

  “Yeah, that’s what your mouth say. But I know my girl Freda ain’t lying, ’cause, she cleans up the building right across the street from the FBI building, so I know she saw you.”

  “Look, I don’t give a fuck what your friend Freda said. I know I haven’t ever been in the FBI building, much less went in there right before Ricky got locked up. So what you and your friend need to do is find somebody else to talk about. Because right now, you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  “Oh, I know what I’m talking about,” she retaliated in a hostile way. “And as soon as Ricky calls me again, I’m gon’ tell him that your trifling ass is a fucking snitch!”

  “Look, bitch! I ain’t no snitch! So you better watch your mouth!”

  “And if I don’t?” Frances responded intending to press my buttons.

  I put my hands up in her face and said, “Let me go before I give your ass a beat down in here.”

  I headed out of the restaurant. But Frances wasn’t trying to hear that. This hoe started walking behind me, brewing up more commotion, saying, “Yeah, you’re doing right by carrying your stuck-up ass out of here. Because if you think you can beat my ass, then you got to be crazy.”

  I stopped in my tracks and turned towards her. “Frances, all jokes aside, you don’t want none of me. Because whether you know it or not, I’ve been holding plenty of shit back for a very long time, trying to keep from killing you, bitch! And this was done on the strength of my husband because he asked me to keep the peace at a good level so he can see his grown-ass daughter.”

  “Bitch!” Frances screamed, cutting me off in mid-sentence. “Don’t be bringing my daughter in this .”

  She threw a punch at me and it landed right over my left eye.

  “You fucking bitch!” I screamed as loud as I could after feeling the sting of the blow. I didn’t stop there because after I pulled my hand away from my eye to see if it was bleeding, I jumped dead on her stinky ass.

  I hit her ass back as hard as I could with my left fist. I hit her with this hand because I wanted to leave the imprint of the huge rocks in my wedding ring on her face. This ended up becoming a beautiful sight as I watched the blood pour down her face. But since I didn’t get enough satisfaction outta that, I grabbed Frances by the shirt and slammed her down onto this red car parked right next to where we were standing. You should’ve seen her trying to throw them weak-ass punches at me. But, them little-ass blows didn’t faze me at all. To try to get the best of her, I grabbed her by her throat and began to choke the hell outta her.

  “Yeah! You thought you was gon’ beat my ass, huh? But I fooled the hell outta your trick ass!” I screamed.

  “Bitch, you ain’t doing shit but holding me down! You ain’t got no fighting game for real,” Frances managed to say while I kept a tight grip around her neck.

  Now, I ain’t gon’ front, this chick had balls. I mean, here I was, standing over her, trying to choke the daylights out of her and she’s still talking shit to me.

  At that moment I figured out that the only way I was going to get her to shut up was to beat the brakes off her ass. That’s when I took one of my hands from around her neck and tried to bless that ass right across her again, but her punk-ass boyfriend came from outta nowhere and grabbed me by my damn arm.

  “You better get the fuck off me!” I screamed on him as nasty as I could.

  “Nah, home girl, you need to get off her,” he replied aggressively.

  While this nigga had my attention for a bit, Frances reached up and grabbed a handful of my hair and began to twist it in a fucking knot.

  Now I had just got my shit sewed in, so you know I wasn’t prepared for this. So, to keep this hoe from pulling all my damn hair out, I tried to lower my head. But it seemed like the more I gave in, the more she tried to pull it. And that’s when I said, “Frances, let go of my hair!”

  “Get off me first,” she demanded.

  “Yeah, get off of her,” her boyfriend told me once again as he continued to hold onto my arm. I snatched my arm right out of his hand and told him, “Don’t grab me no muthafucking more! Now, tell her to let my hair go and I’ll get off of her.”

  “Bitch, you must think I’m stupid!” Frances commented with a smirk on her face. And from that point, I knew I wouldn’t be able to get her to let go of my hair unless I got off her first. I told her, “Look, I’ma get off you, but you gon’ have to let go of my hair at the same time.”

  “Just get off her. She’s gon’ let your hair go,” her boyfriend said again.

  “Look, I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to her,” I replied sarcastically as my head lay hunched over. And th
en out of nowhere I heard somebody yell out, “The police is coming!” I scrambled to my feet, giving Frances room to move. But she still had my hair gripped really tight in the palm of her hand.

  “Look, I’m off you, so let my hair go,” I told Frances as calmly as I knew how. Even so, I knew she had the upper hand and could steal a couple of punches off me at will. But before she could say or do anything, the police siren got louder. And that’s when her boyfriend said, “Frances, you better come on before they roll up on you and find out you got a warrant.”

  And just like that she let go of my hair. Then she and her boyfriend jumped into his car and drove off like they had just robbed a bank.

  The police rolled up in the parking lot a few seconds later, and they drove up with force like they was gon’ really do something. But I wasn’t worried at all because the one person who could’ve gotten me locked up jetted off. So, I just stood there patting my hair. And then I started re-adjusting my clothes as I watched both police officers walk towards me.

  “Ma’am, are you one of the two women reported to have been fighting out here?” the black male officer asked me.

  “Yes, I am,” I told him as I combed my hair with my fingers.

  “So, where is the other woman?”

  “She got in a car with some guy and left.”

  “What color and make was this vehicle?” the white officer stepped in and asked as he began to write what I was telling him down on his note pad.

  “I don’t know what kind of car it was, but I do remember that it was dark-blue.”

  “Did you know who this woman was?” The black officer wanted to know.

  “Yeah, I know her.”

  “Okay. Well, tell us why the altercation started?” the black officer’s questions continued.

  Now, before I began to explain why me and Frances started fighting, I looked behind me and noticed a crowd of people standing around, watching me talking to the police, which was kind of funny.

  I cracked a little smile and that’s when the white officer asked me, “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Well, are you going to tell us what happened?” he continued.

  “Look officers, I don’t mean no disrespect. But, all I was doing was standing in line waiting to order my food and that’s when that project chick got in my face and started talking madness.”

  “What is her name?” the white officer wanted to know.

  “Frances.”

  “So, what happened next?” the white officer’s questions continued.

  “Well, since I wasn’t trying to hear nothing she had to say, I just walked away from her. But she followed me outside to right here where we’re standing. And then she hit me so we started knucking.”

  “Where did she hit you?” the black officer jumped back in and asked.

  “Right here above my eye.” I pointed to my left eye.

  “Would you like for us to call the paramedics?” the black officer continued.

  “Nah. I’m straight. I mean it ain’t nothing but a lil scratch.”

  “Well, do you wanna file charges against her?” the white officer interjected.

  “I’m not sure. Can I think about it?”

  “Well, are you sure you wanna do that? Because we can start the paperwork now,” the black officer intervened.

  “Look officers, I’m aware of all of that. But right now, I’m really tired. And I’m ready to go home.”

  “Well, when you decide that you want to go ahead and file charges against this woman Frances, who allegedly assaulted you, then this will be the case number I will file my report under.”

  The black officer handed me his card with a number written on the back of it. I took the card, thanked them for their time and walked off towards my car.

  Now from the angle I was walking, I could see both officers as they watched me get into my car. And I could also tell that they were saying something about my car because as I began to drive out of the parking lot, the white officer started writing something down onto his note pad. But I didn’t care, ’cause I kept right on riding. I figured if they ever wanted to catch up to me, all they had to do was run the tags from my car and stop by my crib later.

  Still hyped up from everything that just went down, I wanted nothing else but to vent my frustrations, so I pulled out my cell phone and called my cousin Nikki.

  “Where you at?” I asked her the second she answered her cell phone.

  “Just getting in the house. Why?”

  “Girl, you won’t believe what just happened to me a few minutes ago.”

  “What happened?” Nikki asked me in an urgent manner.

  “I almost went to jail.”

  “How?”

  “For trying to beat the brakes off Ricky’s baby mama, Frances.”

  “Where?”

  “In the parking lot of the Taco Bell off Independence and Virginia Beach Boulevard.”

  “Wait! Now, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Tell me what happened?”

  “Well, I had just walked into the joint and noticed Frances with some ol’ cornball ass nigga, leaving the front of the line because they had just got their food. And then they started walking in the direction I was standing. So, when she saw me, she walked over to me and called me a snitch, saying one of her girlfriends named Freda saw me coming from out of the FBI building right before Ricky got picked up by the Feds. So I told her to get outta my face with that bullshit because her girlfriend don’t know what the hell she’s talking about.”

  “Now, how did her girlfriend see all that?”

  “She said her friend cleans up the building right across the street from the FBI building.”

  “Oh, shit! That’s not good.”

  “Who the fuck you telling,” I commented in agitation.

  “So, what else did she say?”

  “Nothing, but that she was gon’ tell Ricky when he call her again.”

  “Well, what did you do when she told you that?”

  “I just told her she was crazy and walked away from her. But this hoe got real bold and started walking behind me. So when we got outside, I cussed her out and talked about her daughter and that’s when this bitch sucker punched me in my face.”

  “What!? You’re lying!”

  “No, I’m not, girl. And once I had realized this trick hit me, I stole her ass right dead in her face. And trust me, I went for blood ’cause her face was bleeding real bad after I buried my wedding ring in her skin.”

  “So, what was she doing?”

  “Nikki, she wasn’t doing nothing but talking shit! Because I couldn’t feel none of them soft-ass punches she was throwing at me.”

  “Well, where was the guy she was with when all of this was going on?”

  “He was in his car. But when he saw me standing over top of her and beating her ass, he decides that he wants to come to her rescue.”

  “Well, what did he do?”

  “He grabbed one of my arms and told me to get off of her. So I told him to get the fuck off of me. And while me and him was going back and forth, Frances reached up and grabbed a big hunk of my hair and started twisting it into a knot. So, I’m real mad now because I got a nigga who I don’t even know, holding my arm while some hoe I cannot stand got me bent over with a chunk of my hair wrapped up in the palm of her hand.”

  “Girl, I sure wish I was there because that shit would not have went down like that.”

  “I know. But it’s all good, ‘cause that hoe is gon’ see me again. And when she do, I’m gon’ bury her and her daughter’s stinking asses.”

  Nikki laughed at my comment and then asked, “So, who broke y’all fight up?”

  “It was nobody really. Because after somebody from the crowd yelled out and said, that the police was coming, I got up from off her. And that’s when her and her boyfriend jumped in his car and drove off.”

  “Well, do you think she’s going to
tell Ricky what her friend Freda told her?”

  “Hell yeah! I mean, especially after what happened today.”

  “So, what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, what do you think he gon’ say when she tells him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, we’re gonna have to figure something out. Because I know him well enough to know that when he finds out what really went down, he’s gon’ wanna have something done to us.”

  “Don’t worry ’bout that because that ain’t gon’ happen.”

  “Well, since you know your husband better than I do, I’m going to let you run the show.”

  “Yeah, let me do that,” I told Nikki and then I got quiet for a second because I was trying to collect my thoughts.

  “Hey,” Nikki said to me, “You all right?”

  “Yeah. I’m a’ight.”

  “Well, act like it. ’Cause you’re scaring the hell outta me.”

  “Oh, shut up! Wit’cha dramatic ass!”

  We both laughed but deep down inside, I knew she was somewhat scared because I was beginning to feel the same way. But, I ain’t gon’ panic. Everything will work out.

  After Mail Call

  At mail today, the C.O. gave me a kite from Sunshine. I went on back into my cell and climbed onto my bunk for some privacy. In the kite, she started saying how much she loves me. And that she missed the times when we was on the streets. And how we use to take weekend trips and fuck the whole time. The letter also said that her lawyer found a couple of loopholes in her case, so they filed for an appeal to get her sentence overturned, which looked real good. And that if she’s granted immediate release, then she’s gon’ get out and start working on getting my case back in court, too.

  Now I ain’t gon’ front, ’cause all that shit she’s talking sounds real sweet to a player-ass nigga like me. But I know that as soon as that hoe hits the free world, everything gon’ change real quick. So my best bet is to try and get Kira back on my team. She’s the only woman in my life who’ll make sure shit is straight with me. But now, since she done found out about me and Sunshine, I know it’s gon’ be real hard trying to re-recruit her and get her back on the grind. I just hope that she don’t take too long to come to her senses, ‘cause right now, the clock is ticking. And I sho’ would hate to sic my street soldiers on her. But that’s just how shit rolls with me. I mean, you’re either with me or you’re against me. And that’s just how the game is played. Now, don’t get me wrong, because I love the fuck outta my wife, Kira, even though I got a shitty way of showing it. And I know I could’ve done shit a lot different, but that’s just how I’m built. I ain’t no Romeo type of cat. I’ma gangsta-ass nigga. I’m raw and a killer at will. So, the way I showed my love is by making sho’ she had everything she wanted, plus some. That’s why she was living at the castle, driving a $40,000 whip, with a slew of fucking minks and fur coats hanging in her closet, plus a nice-ass diamond collection. And then on top of that, I kept her in the Saks and Bloomies gear.