Baby Momma

by Ni'chelle Genovese

  “Oh. My. Damn. Nigga!” She came again and that was it, her pussy was pullin’ me in and I couldn’t fight back.

  “Fuck, baby, I’m ’bout to ...” Before I could get the words out I felt myself explode.

  Somewhere in the room a bee was buzzin’ or a ... I looked up. My phone had fallen out of my pants and was vibratin’ on the floor. I looked at the clock and my heart jumped in my chest. Fuck! It was six A.M. Honey was underneath me, still asleep. I already knew it was Michelle and she was most likely pissed. My plan was to come here, dick Honey down, then shower and leave. I didn’t know what the fuck happened. I hopped up and started gettin’ dressed like my ass was on fire.

  “You goin’ to get us breakfast, daddy?” Honey was half asleep. She rolled onto her side, turning her back tome.

  “Nah, baby, I’m s’posed to pick my son up from his grandma house and take him to daycare. I gotta go but I’ll come back, okay?” I looked to see if she was upset or about to fuss, but Honey was almost asleep.

  “Okay, baby, call me when you on the way.”

  I drove like a madman, mind shootin’ over a hundred and one things I could tell Chelle, but none of ’em were gonna work. Not this time. I was angry at myself, but I was more angry at Michelle. If she would jus’ try with a nigga sometimes, maybe I wouldn’t have to get pussy elsewhere. Honey did my ass right and the shit put me out cold for the night. Maybe if Chelle woulda jus’ tried to be down for whateva, be a li‘l creative, or experiment, our shit wouldn’t be so fucked up. I pulled up at six twenty-eight and immediately felt my stomach sink in disappointment. Once again I’d spent the night away from home, and Michelle had already left for work, so there was no downplayin’ my absence.

  22

  Lights Out

  I called Michelle’s cell and went straight to voice mail. I’d fucked up. I wasn’t even in the mood to go back to the hotel so I decided to go count the safe at the club and make sure the place was still standin’. I needed to figure out how to deal wit’ D and this whole bad-product situation, too. I wasn’t sure what I’d do with Danita’s son, but I’d have to find him another place to stay. My mind was heavy with questions, decisions, and doubt. I didn’t expect anyone to be at the club at this hour, but Big Baby’s car was parked outside. I found him sleepin’ in my office on the couch.

  “Nigga.” I tapped his leg. “What the hell you doin’ in here?” Big Baby was almost two times larger than the couch, so his neck was bent at a crazy angle and his feet were hanging over the end. There was no way he could’ve been comfortable.

  “Damn, Rah, I ain’ expect to see you. What up, boy?” He sat up and dapped me up. “Yo, word got back to my ol’ lady that I was fuckin’ ’roun’ wit’ Shiree. She flipped da fuck out. Put me out an’ then hit Shiree an’ put a nigga on blast.” Big Baby looked down at the floor like a lost puppy. “I ain’ have nowhere else to go.”

  I wasn’t surprised. Big Baby could neva do dirt and not get caught, but as always, once the groceries got low or the light bill needed payin’, his ol’ lady would take him back and they’d be fine.

  “It’s cool, B. Stay as long as you need. Jus’ don’t clog up my fuckin’ toilet. I’ma go run a count on the safes.”

  I could see him breathe a visible sigh of relief as he shuffled himself back down into that ungodly uncomfortable position. I cleared all the safes and was pleased with the money they’d been pullin’ in while I was away. I was a li’l surprised when I got to Honey’s and there was no cash inside. We were definitely gonna have words. I went back into my office to lock everything up in my safe. I’d count it later. I entered the code and opened the door. The ATM card reminded me of the day I took Honey to the bank. I’d never watched the surveillance from that day. Big was snorin’ loudly on the couch, dead to the world. I needed to catch up on what’d been goin’ on. I slid into my desk and logged on to my computer to pull up the camera footage.

  Everything looked normal. It was 3:00 P.M. Derrick came in and checked the bar and register. He was walkin’ aroun’ makin’ sure the stage was clear and the lights worked. I was ’bout to fast forward it, and reached for the mouse. Big Baby started talkin’ and I looked away from the video to see if he was gonna come over, but he was jus’ talkin’ in his sleep. I chuckled. A nigga who talks in his sleep is a nigga who’ll tell on himself. I looked back at the video, intent on fast forwarding to something worth watching, when my hand paused mid-motion. Derrick was on the phone by the bar. He had started pacin’ back and forth, slashin’ his hand through the air. It was obvious he wasn’t too pleased about something. I would have paid anything for sound. He slammed down the phone and sat at the bar, looking defeated. Was that his connect he was talking to? Maybe it was Michelle. I didn’t have long to wonder. As if on cue Michelle walked into the frame on the surveillance.

  I remembered this day. The outfit she had on was what she wore to work the day that I came home and told her we were goin’ out to dinner. She walked up to Derrick and put her arms around his shoulders. Without sound I had no idea what was being said. She looked happy to see him and my heart pounded in my ears as if it were shouting the word “betrayal” over and over. She was talkin’ into his ear, too close for my comfort. Derrick stood and shook his head yes and they hugged again before walking out.

  I started breathin’ again. I watched that scene ten times. They seemed too casual, too familiar with each other. I imagined a hundred and one scenarios and not one made me feel any better. They must have had plans that night, and she called to tell him she couldn’t go and he was upset so she showed up to smooth it over in person. Maybe she was tryin’ to break it off wit’ him. It was one thing thinkin’ of them together, but seein’ them made me feel a new type of anger. Not only had Michelle spoken the words outta her fuckin’ mouth, but now I had physical evidence of them together.

  “Big, get the fuck up!” I stopped the video and went into my safe, pullin’ out fifty grand.

  “Wh ... what, ni ... nigga?” Big was sittin’ up in a confused daze.

  I shoved the cash into his hand. “Take care of our problem for good, nigga.” I looked him in the eye and he mouthed Derrick’s name. I was goin’ back to the hotel. I needed to lie down. I needed to be calm again before I saw Michelle. I had forgiven her, but seein’ that shit drove a nigga damn near insane. I wasn’t sure how she’d take it wheneva she got the news that the nigga was ghost, but her li’l love triangle was dead. Literally.

  I took the long way to the hotel; I needed to calm the fuck down. I would just surprise Honey so I didn’t bother textin’ to let her know I was on my way. As I neared the turn to pull into the hotel parkin’ lot I could see all the lights before I could see the commotion. There were cop cars all ova the fuckin’ place. I passed the turn and looked as best as I could without seemin’ suspicious. I almost crashed into a truck stopped at the light on the corner when I saw Honey bein’ led out, head down and hands behind her back. They at least had the decency to let her wear her coat out. She looked so small and pitiful as she climbed into the back of a car. I was determined to get to the safest place I could think of: my safe house.

  No one—not Derrick, not Michelle, Big Baby, hell, not even Honey—knew ‘bout the spot I’d bought in a quiet suburban neighborhood just outside of Chesapeake near Pungo. Most of the people kept to themselves and didn’t care if anyone lived in the house or not. They pro’ly jus’ assumed I was military and stayed deployed a lot. Either way, if anyone tried to rat me out, I knew this was the last place anyone would look. I pulled up in front of the ranch-style brick house with its mint-green shutters and overgrown lawn. I opened the garage, pulled my car inside, and went into the house.

  The place had the bare essentials. The lights and water bill weren’t even in my name. I’d paid a helluva deposit to get the services with no Social Security number and had even had the foresight to give a fake name. I paid the bill online with a credit card I loaded up with cash, so nothin’ connected me or the club. It wa
s a small two-bedroom house with nothin’ but a couch, small TV, and a bed in the larger of the two small rooms. As I opened the hall closet, I was relieved my gun safe was locked and looked secure. Everything appeared just as I’d left it.

  I needed to think, and I needed to think hard and fast. If Michelle hadn’t called me, my ass woulda still been in the room when they picked up Honey. Maybe D had set me up, and she was tryin’ to warn me. I had no idea who I could trust. Big seemed to be the only one not involved wit’ anything, but at this point I was too shook to hit even him. Honey’s Impala was hot. There was so much shit in it that they would have Honey locked up for a minimum of twenty-five. Would she rat me out? Did they know ‘bout Ro? I sat down on the couch and stomped a spider as it scurried from underneath it. Is this what God felt like doin’ when He looked down at me?

  I was glad Honey didn’t know the truth ‘bout me and Michelle. If I needed her to take the wrap for a nigga there was no way she would do it if she didn’t think she was numba one. There was nothin’ in or on the car to tie it back to me. I decided to go ahead and call Big Baby to see if he could get through to anyone at the precinct who would still cooperate wit’ us.

  “Yo, Rah, Monique from the telly jus’ hit me—”

  I cut him off before he could finish. “I need you to hit T, an’ any otha nigga you can safely get to without raisin’ any flags. We need to know what they know.” I didn’t wait for Big to answer. I didn’t want to risk saying too much and compromising myself or him. I hung up and debated on callin’ Michelle. I didn’t see any point. She was pissed and I might as well take advantage of her anger and use it as an excuse to lie low.

  23

  While You Were Away

  Rasheed didn’t have to call for me to know what was going on. Every news station was covering the story about the drugs that were killing addicts, and the nineteen—year-old stripper calling herself a queen pen and taking the credit. The fact that she worked at the Hot Spot made it even more obvious to me why Rasheed had disappeared, but after a week of no contact I just couldn’t figure out where the hell he’d disappeared to.

  I tried calling and texting his cell but it was pointless; wherever he was he’d turned it off, probably for fear of having his calls traced via the cell phone towers. This entire situation solidified my point. It was time for Rah to get out of the drug game and the club business altogether. I’d been leaving Trey with Ris when I went to work because I was too paranoid that something would go down or get uncovered, and the first thing the police would do was snatch him out of his daycare. She was truly proving to be my life support and I was so thankful she put aside her anger at me leaving with Rah on vacation.

  I spent more time in the familiar comfort of Ris’s place than I did at my own house. I couldn’t stand being alone in there, and often I had nightmares of men kicking in my front door with guns drawn, ready to drag me off to jail. It was just easier to completely lose myself in my work and try not to focus on the news, or the media. It was bad enough Heman-Shebitch knew Rah owned the Hot Spot. He’d already tried to put me on blast in front of my superiors the first day everything hit the news. We were in our morning meeting when he decided to put my business out there.

  “So, Michelle, how on earth is your baby daddy dealing with all the press around his club?” He’d put extra emphasis on the words “baby daddy” and “club” as if to stress the fact that both were bad associations.

  “Well, Mr. Soloman, my son’s father is actually handling the event very well and is at this moment in Georgia opening a second establishment. I’m pretty sure he’ll extend your VIP card to that one as well, just let him know when you’re in town.” I’d never in my life seen a black man blush, but Heman-Shebitch did just that and it was hilarious!

  I smiled to myself at the memory as I pulled into Ris’s driveway and gathered my things. She was nowhere to be found when I walked in and Trey was asleep atop a ton of pillows in the middle of the living room floor. His toys were everywhere and I couldn’t resist kneeling down and kissing him on the cheek. He looked so much like Rah and yet so much like me. He was the best of both of us. I stood and made my way upstairs to find Ris. She’d decided to use Trey’s nap as a break to hop in the shower, and I decided to let her have her peace and went back downstairs, determined to cook something for dinner. I’d decided I had a taste for meatloaf and mashed potatoes, and prayed what I needed was in the fridge because I sure as hell didn’t feel like going back out to the grocery store.

  “Damn, momma, when the hell did you get here?” Ris burst into the kitchen in a fresh, familiar breeze of mango butter. She’d obviously been in my shower bag again.

  “Well hello to you too, and how was your day?” I swore I needed to school her ass on how to properly greet someone. She’d taken a seat at the kitchen counter across from me and sat quietly. That was definitely not like Ris. I squinted slightly as I examined her sitting across from me, trying to figure out why she was suddenly so demure. She was avoiding my eyes; her gaze moved lazily around the kitchen, focusing on everything and nothing.

  “Bitch, are you high?” I didn’t need an answer. Her shower this late in the day, red eyes, and full-moon pupils said it all. I couldn’t believe she had the audacity to get high while Trey was in the house with her.

  “Before you fly off the handle, Chelle, I’m ... I mean we are goin’ through a lot right now and my ass is on the verge of a meltdown. I was thinkin’ of all the worst shit that could go wrong and I just got overwhelmed. I was wound too tight and needed to unwind.”

  I was not used to “high” Ris; all my experiences centered around “drunk” Ris. She wasn’t cursing, she wasn’t buzzing around me in a frenzy of adult ADHD-DIRECTED energy. She just calmly sat in front of me as if we were discussing the news. In a sense it was wrong of me to force my situation on her.

  “I’m sorry, Risi cup. But, damn, you could have at least waited until I got here. I would have understood.”

  “Girl, Trey was ‘sleep long before I did that shit. I fixed him a mini margarita and it musta knocked his li’l ass out cold.”

  The knife I was using to cut up the potatoes stilled in my hand and I glared. If this heffa...

  “Damn. Chelle, where is yo’ sense of humor? I ain’t give the baby a drink. We went and ran all over the park this morning and I fixed him a big lunch. He’s fine. Li’l nigga just got the itis extra hard.” She laughed lazily and slapped her leg almost in slow motion.

  I definitely was not used to “high” Ris, because that shit was definitely not funny.

  “Nah, but seriously, Chelle. You know I’ve got a lot on my mind. I sit and watch the news all day and I can’t help but worry.” She looked like she was about to cry and I started to feel even worse for, once again, dragging Larissa into my and Rasheed’s mess. I walked over and hugged her, focused on getting her out of the pessimistic funk she’d managed to slip into.

  “I‘ma need ya ass to read a book or something during the day, ma. Everything is going to be fine as long as you keep thinking it is going to be fine. The second we start talkin’ negative we give that negative energy power.”

  Trey woke up and stumbled his way into the kitchen, looking too much like a drunken little man for us both not to find it hilarious.

  “You sure you ain’t give my baby a drink?” I asked as I scooped him up and pulled his Binky out of his mouth to plant a kiss on his smiling little face. Daddy or no daddy, he was going to be all right. We were both going to be all right.

  After dinner I slipped outside to make a quick phone call without stressin’ Ris out. I needed more details on what was going on and I was curious as to how well everything was going over with the DEA. I called the only person who I knew would give me solid information.

  “Hey, darlin’, how are you holdin’ up?” It was good to hear Derrick’s warm, comforting voice over the phone.

  “I’m okay, sweetheart. Can we meet this evening? I have a few things I’d like to go over wi
th you.” I didn’t want to say anything specific over the phone. For all I knew, Derrick could be under surveillance.

  “No problem, Chelle. Our usual?”

  “You know it.”

  24

  Honeycomb Hideout

  Almost a month had passed since Honey had been picked up and I still hadn’t heard from her. T was the only nigga not scared of the new chief and pretty much kept us filled in on what was goin’ on. Turned out Honey wasn’t talkin’, well, at least not ‘bout me anyway. She told the DEA the drugs in the car were hers and that she was runnin’ the entire operation. She even owned up to puttin’ Inferno on the streets and claimed she was drivin’ in fresh supply since there were complications with the batches out now. And those muthafuckas were actually believin’ her.

  I’d lost ‘round ten pounds, and hadn’t seen anyone. I did buy a prepaid cell at a 7-Eleven ’round the corner, but no one had the number ‘cept Big Baby. He was steady keepin’ tabs on Derrick and lettin’ me know the nigga’s moves. He’d been meeting Michelle at restaurants and some otha bullshit, but I always cut Big off. I couldn’t stand to hear the details knowin’ I couldn’t leave to hand that nigga his ass.

  Michelle was pro‘ly worried to death by now and probably usin’ D as an outlet since I’d left her high and dry, but I still couldn’t take any chances. My reign in the drug world was at its peak and I wasn’t tryin’ to be greeted by jail bars on the downslope. DEA, FBI, CIA; shit, I bet not a single one of them alphabet bitches would sleep if they had any idea Honey was a key to unlockin’ my empire.

  I’d only left my safe house twice: once to buy the cell, and again to stock up on groceries and basic shit. The alarm on my phone went off. I’d set a reminder. Today was Honey’s first day in court. I didn’t know if they really believed her, or if it was all an act to bring me out into the open but, secretly, I prayed they believed her. All operations had ceased and our only revenue comin’ in was from the club. Big said they did a small investigation since they knew Honey worked there, but the club checked out clean. I’d always made sure of that.