Baby Momma

by Ni'chelle Genovese

  I called Big Baby. “Any news?”

  He sounded as tired as I felt. “Nah, you know I‘ma drop word soon as we know what she get. Rumors say her crackhead cousin blackmailed her and then dropped dime when Honey couldn’t get her any product. She dug her own grave by ownin’ up to erethang though. Me and the boys been playin’ in the dirt, but you know we got our eyes an’ ears open.”

  Playin’ in the dirt meant everybody was bein’ smart. Lyin’ low. I didn’t have anything else to say. The waiting game had begun and I couldn’t do anything but wait.

  “All right, hit me soon as you hear somethin’. Be easy.”

  It felt like forever. It took them two months of court cases and plea bargainin’ before I finally got the call. Honey got the maximum: life in prison with a mandatory minimum of twenty-five years. I had so much ridin’ on the verdict, and when it finally hit I felt sadness, joy, triumph, and even disgust. T hit Big and said with Honey locked up and sales droppin’, his chief closed the books on Inferno. I needed to talk to Honey, tell her how sorry and how grateful I was for her. I was torn between celebratin’ and mournin’.

  I’d asked T to set up a phone call with Honey as soon as he could. My cell rang with a number I didn’t recognize. With the case closed, I wasn’t as apprehensive about pickin’ up.

  “You have a collect call from ...”

  “Trenisha Davis.”

  “Do you accept?”

  My throat instantly went dry as if I were chokin’ on a piece of dry, stale bread with no water anywhere in sight. I hadn’t heard her voice in so long, I’d forgotten how she sounded.

  “I accept.”

  “Hey, daddy. How’s life?” She didn’t even sound like herself.

  “Not so good, sunshine, how are you?” I couldn’t believe our conversation. Here I was free, speakin’ to a woman who gave up erethin’ for my freedom. A tear burned a hot trail down my cheek, splashin’ onto my jeans, markin’ the small spot dark blue. I focused on that spot and mentally manned up as I waited for Honey to answer my question.

  “We are good, baby. I never got a chance to tell you thank you. I wasn’t eva gonna be more than a strippa, workin’ day by day to get by. You helped me see and do thangs no one eva bothered to do for me. You got so much ambition, daddy, so much drive. Without you, I woulda killed myself. I owe my life to you. I owe our lives to you. I’m pregnant, Rasheed.”

  My mouth fell open in shock. Those were not the words I was expectin’ to hear. Honey was havin’ my baby—in prison?

  “Fuck, baby. I’m so sorry, I...” What do you say to someone who’s given up so much when you selfishly gave up so little? For one of the few times in my life I was at a loss for words.

  “It’s okay, Rah, she’s gonna be here in February. Jus’ promise me you’ll take care of her for me, daddy.”

  “Damn, girl, we actually havin’ a li’l girl?” I couldn’t even see me with a daughter. I ran one of the most successful strip clubs on the East Coast. I done hit and quit more women in the last year than some niggas seen in a lifetime. And I was gonna be raisin’ a li’l girl.

  “Yes, daddy. I ain’ want to tell you this way. I pictured it so much different than this shit right here. But now you know I love yo’ ass for real. You my heart, Rasheed.”

  I lowered my head and sighed. I couldn’t hold back anymore and the tears fell freely, trailin’ rivers of sorrow down my cheeks. I had to check myself quick before I fucked up and said something incriminating.

  “I know you love me, girl. You ain’ have to prove a damn thang to no-damn-body. You keep my baby fed. Guess my ass gonna have to get used to buyin’ a bunch of pink shit, huh?” Honey laughed her same old laugh that made me remember summer days ridin’ in the car, sneakin’ off to fuck in the club, and too much shit I took for granted.

  I made Honey promise to call me again as soon as possible. I felt like a freed man as I stepped outside my self-made prison into the calm, cool October air. A young couple strolled past me, heads bent close together as they talked and held hands. The leaves had turned all different shades of bright yellow, orange, and red, clearly indicatin’ cuffin’ season had begun. That time of year when you find someone to cozy up to for some warm company through the winter. Guess it was as perfect a time as any for me to cozy back up to Michelle. A weight had been lifted from my shoulders only to be replaced by a looming cloud of hurt and contempt caused by missing Honey.

  I hadn’t seen or spoken to Michelle in nearly three months. I missed my son. Months of livin’ in the shadows made me miss life all together. I turned on my old cell I’d kept charged up on the floor just for this day, and called Michelle’s phone.

  “Rah?” Worry, excitement, love; it’s amazing how I heard so much in the way she said my name.

  “Yes, baby. It’s me. I’m on my way home.”

  25

  John 3:16

  The house was just as I’d left it. Shit. It looked like Michelle hadn’t even lived there for the full three months I was gone. There was definitely an unspoken tension between us. She wanted to know what happened and who this stripper was who was takin’ the blame for all of my hard work, and I didn’t want to talk about it. The first few days were awkward but, as time went on, we gradually got back into our rhythm.

  It was December and I’d only spoken to Honey twice since our initial conversation, once to get all her info to make sure her card had money on it for her to eat right with the baby. She was five months along and the baby was kickin’ her ass. From the little convo we had she was havin’ a hard time keepin’ food down and they were monitoring her to make sure the baby was growin’ okay. I remembered Michelle had that same problem and would sip peppermint tea to calm her stomach. I made a mental note to send her some in a care package.

  The second time we spoke we actually got in a damn argument. She was goin’ on ’bout some chick she was cellmates with. Sounded like some straight-up dike shit to me. I mean, how many niggas want to hear they girl goin’ on and on ’bout anotha bitch takin’ care of ’em. Washin’ clothes, braidin’ her hair, so I asked Honey if the bitch was eatin’ her pussy, too. She started to tell me somethin’ ‘bout the girl but I’d hung up on her ass. I’d make sure Honey was comfortable. I owed her a great deal for what she was doin’. But I wasn’t gonna be happy ‘bout her dikin’ or no dumb shit like that.

  It was one of those typical December days where it felt like you were frozen the second you stepped outdoors and not a ray of sun could be seen through the thick white winter clouds. We were two weeks from Christmas, and I felt like my life was finally startin’ to get back to normal. Me and Chelle were out pickin’ up toys for Trey when my cell went off. It was Big and he didn’t sound good. I promised to meet him at the club soon as me and Michelle was done. I dropped Chelle off at the house and drove the quick ten minutes to the club. Shit betta be important. We were gonna put the tree up tonight and Trey was so excited he’d been askin’ nonstop for the last week.

  I pulled up and parked beside Big’s Durango. The usually polished-up jet-black truck looked pathetic. Dried mud splatters covered it from tire to mid-door. I meant to joke the nigga thoroughly.

  “Nigga, you been out muddin’ wit’ dem white boys or som’n?” Big Baby was sittin’ at the bar wit’ Chris, and anotha nigga I’d seen around but didn’t know.

  “Rah, whatup.” Big got up to greet me as the other two sat like gargoyle statues, heads down and quiet.

  “Rememba that shit you asked me to take care of befo’ shit got hot? That situation.”

  I nodded.

  “Well, these the two niggas who worked off that fifty grand you gave me.”

  “It’s done?” I couldn’t believe my ears.

  “Yeah, nig. Wasn’t much to it. My soldiers thorough like that.”

  “Well shit, sound like we need to have us a fuckin’ celebration. All dances, drinks, whateva the fuck y’all want on me tonight, niggas. Y’all VIP in this bitch!”

  Neither of
the two niggas budged. I was frontin’ extra hard, puttin’ on airs like I was God Almighty and my lightning bolt hit its mark. We shoulda all been throwin’ back shots by now, commendin’ each other for mowin’ over the snake in our grass instead of steppin’ around it. Instead, I was greeted by silence and long faces that mirrored the shame and disgust I myself felt pulling at the pit of my stomach. My confidant, homeboy, hell the nigga I called brother was no more. I’d slain Able and underneath all my bravado I still felt a sinner’s shame. I took a seat beside Chris at the bar. He looked like he was on the verge of bein’ sick.

  “Well, nigga, guess I got ya cherry the way you lookin’ right now. We all been there. You good, right?” He didn’t even look at me. We both jumped as a chair clamored to the floor. His boy stood abruptly and walked outside.

  “Nah, Rah, my hands been bloody, nigga. When shit got hot Big told us hold off on the contract. I ain’ a patient nigga but I waited. I was so fuckin’ amped. I really needed dat dough. A few weeks ago, Big said it was on again, so I camped out an’ hit the nigga at night when he was pullin’ up at his crib. I swear, I ain’ know, man. I pulled up beside the car but...” Chris’s voice broke and he lowered his head into his hands.

  Frustrated, eyebrow raised, I looked up at Big for clarification. If this nigga was ’bout to have a breakdown and run off to confess some shit, I might have to have him taken care of.

  Big Baby cleared his throat hard and looked away. His usually boisterous voice was barely above a whisper. “Rah... they got the kid too.”

  My heart sank in my chest. The phrase “casualty of war” floated ’round in my head.

  “Chris, I need to know what happened.” All I could think ‘bout was how the fuck I dodged one bullet to get hit by anotha. If Danita found out, it was gonna be the end fa sure. Chris gave me a recap. They pulled up beside Derrick as he’d jus’ got home from the grocery store. Chris’s boy was drivin’ and Chris was the one who opened fire. He didn’t see the li‘l boy asleep in the back seat ’til it was too late. I said a silent prayer for forgiveness. At least the li’l nigga died in his sleep.

  Nothin’ was goin’ right. I was startin’ to feel defeated. I needed to figure out how the fuck I was gonna get through this. I wondered if Michelle knew what had happened yet. I left the club, pullin’ my keys out of my pocket, and walked out into a cold, grey, misting rain. The weather matched my mood perfectly. I couldn’t believe I was responsible for the death of Danita’s son. His face was hauntin’ me, eyes like Dee’s, lips like Dee’s. What the fuck had I done? Derrick may have deserved what he had comin’, but not the kid. Hell, I didn’t even know the li‘l nigga’s name. I sat in my car for a few minutes, tryin’ to figure out how I would face my own son, or even Michelle for that matter. Shit, I ain’ pull the trigga, but I ain’ warn them niggas eitha.

  Michelle called my cell and I simply hit the ignore button. I couldn’t talk to her right then. I jus’ needed to put this shit behind me an’ man up. This was the life I chose. Mufuckas come an’ go. Derrick chose to disrespect me in the biz an’ on the personal. He was a liability I couldn’t afford. I put the car in drive and drove home, content that what was done needed to be done. I would deal wit’ Danita when the issue arose. No one knew her son was with Derrick, and Big said they’d driven the bodies out into the woods and buried ’em afterward. Hopefully, it would be a while before she got any idea what had happened.

  I parked outside my house. The blinds were open and I could see Chelle and Trey sittin’ in front of the TV. I gave myself the luxury of imaginin’ it was Honey wit’ a li’l girl who looked jus’ like her. I shook my head to clear the image of my caged angel. She was on the verge of suicide before me, before I gave her a job at the club. Maybe her role in my life was exactly how she played it. I walked into my home and hugged Michelle and Trey. Maybe it was time I worked on bein’ a new, betta nigga for her. Too many people were bein’ bodied behind the old me.

  The holiday wasn’t goin’ by as easily as I thought it would. As much as I appreciated Chelle and Trey, I felt like shit ere time I thought ’bout Honey and my baby girl in prison. I was gradually sinkin’ into a depression, and not havin’ my ace there to talk shit out was leavin’ me no choice but to hold erething in. I didn’t sleep much. My guilty conscience kept me awake most nights, and when I did try to sleep I had nightmares. Even though Michelle could sense somethin’ was wrong, she never said anything. I was startin’ to think she knew ’bout Derrick and maybe felt jus’ as guilty as I was feelin’.

  I’d been spendin’ more and more time at the club. I didn’t want anyone pushin’ product for a while. We needed to wait ’til I was sure shit had cooled off. The brothas weren’t happy, but they undastood and did whateva they needed to do so their fams could have a good Christmas. I was in my office when Diamond came in.

  “Merry Christmas, Rah. I know you ain’ gonna spend Christmas Eve waitin’ for Santa wit’ us.”

  I wasn’t sure why I’d decided to keep the place open, but som’n told me there might be a few lonely-ass niggas or angry baby daddies who ain’ wanna be alone. I was right; it almost looked like any otha night.

  “Whatup, Di? You come in here to give me my present or what?” It’d been a while since I’d done anything. I guessed stress’d do that to a nigga.

  Diamond was standin’ there in her festive-ass Mrs. Claus outfit. She had on a stripper’s version of one anyway: red fishnets and knee-high black leather boots. Her weave was so long it hung down to her ass, and she was lickin’ her full lips, waitin’ for me to finish my eye exam. I sat on top of my desk and extended my finger for her to come over. It went without sayin’; she knew what was up and kneeled in between my legs. She undid my pants and slid my dick out through the slit in my boxers. I was immediately straight as an arrow as I closed my eyes. Damn it’d been a minute. I jus’ knew I was gonna embarrass myself and bust right there in her hand.

  I looked down an’ watched Diamond wrap her lips ’round my dick. I put my head back and tried to enjoy the moment, but my mind was still distracted. I needed to get home and put Trey’s Power Wheel Escalade together. I’d bought Chelle an engagement ring and was gonna propose to her in the mornin’. I figured proposin’ meant I’d have at least anotha year or two before we’d have to walk down the aisle. I was gonna do my best to make her happy. Guessed I would start that shit tomorrow. Diamond was goin’ in and a nigga was ’bout to let the fuck go. I wrapped my fingers in her weave and forced myself farther down her throat.

  My heart was slammin’ in my ears and the music from the club drowned out Diamond’s moans as she sucked every fuckin’ drop outta me. I heard my office door close and jumped, snappin’ my eyes in its direction. Musta been Big Baby. I smiled down at Diamond.

  “Damn Di! You know you jus’ earned the night off, right?”

  “Boy, stop! I ain’ got no fuckin’ kids. I’m ‘bout to go out he’ an’ get this mufuckin’ papa. Them niggas is depressed an’ droppin’ dolla’s!”

  I chuckled. Diamond was always ‘bout gettin’ her money, that was for sure.

  “All right, momma. Go handle ya biz.” I smacked her on the ass as she hopped up and sashayed outta my office.

  Well, now that I’d gotten that outta my system. Whew. Ya boy was feelin’ ready to take on the world. I buttoned my pants, makin’ sure I looked presentable before headin’ out to find Big Baby. He was standin’ ova by the bar, talkin’ to Annette.

  “Yo, was you lookin’ fa me?” He shook his head no and leaned toward me so I could hear him ova the music.

  “Yo, ya girl can cook her ass off. Rah, you one lucky nigga.”

  “What girl? What the hell you talkin’ ’bout?” Damn. Big Shirley musta brought plates. My eyes roved the crowd, lookin’ for her so I could ask for mine.

  “Damn, nigga. Don’t tell me you in da doghouse again. Chelle must really be pissed if she came out the house to bring erebody a dinner plate ‘cept yo’ ass!”

  A lump had formed
in my throat. All the enthusiasm and relief I felt a few moments ago evaporated instantly. No, I didn’t see Michelle. But I was sure as fuck she’d seen me.

  26

  Heart for a Heart

  I walked back to my office and sat at my desk. I knew Michelle well enough to know she’d run home, grab Trey, and go either to her mom’s or one of her girls’ cribs. I knew she’d seen Diamond toppin’ me off, and for once I had no explanation. Here I was ready to propose to her, tryin’ to do right by her, hell, I was even thinkin’ ’bout her while I was gettin’ head. And I was still fuckin’ up.

  I spent Christmas Day alone. The tree was eerie and dark with all of Trey’s presents wrapped and piled up underneath it. I flipped on the TV more for background noise than anything. The remote fell from my hand, crashin’ onto the floor after bashin’ my foot. Shock and pain seared through my core like lightning. A special report bulletin streamed across the screen, putting me face to face with my demons.

  Derrick never smiled in any of his pictures and the irony was foreboding, as his sarcastic smirk now mocked my manhood, reminding me of the blood on my hands. Stains on my soul. The hair on the back of my neck was on edge, and I felt ice cold inside and out as I stared at the image of my eighteen-year-old partner in crime. Lack of a recent photo made the news crew resort to using D’s high school photo. I always considered myself a calculated, heartless, cold-blooded nigga. You could walk up to ten muthafuckas on the street and any of ’em would say Rasheed was a boss-ass dude. Name anyone who ever did me wrong and I could tell you off top that they ass was met with an appropriate consequence.

  Suddenly, none of that bullshit meant anything to me as the news reporter mentioned the li’l boy slain along with Derrick. Tears clouded my vision as everything that reminded me of Danita burned into the upper left corner of my flat screen. A frail, dark-skinned elderly woman was kneeling with a football clutched to her chest, head lowered with a pain so evident the news reporter stood by, outwardly emotional and at a loss for words. The old woman was Danita’s great aunt and only surviving relative.