“I want some pizza.” Lily scanned the menu.
“You don’t need any pizza, Lily, you’ll get fat. Do you want to grow up fat?” Antonia scolded her.
“I think she’ll be fine, Antonia. She’s a little girl, and shouldn’t really be counting calories at this age, don’t you think?” I cocked my head, trying not to slap the fuck out of this bitch.
Antonia didn’t respond, she just turned her eyes down to her menu to continue looking. The waitress came over with our drinks, and then we placed our order, with Lily getting pizza like she wanted.
I was thankful that my babies were tired out, and that was exactly what I wanted. I’d bathed, changed, and fed them before I did my makeup, so they were peacefully sleeping in their stroller, thank God.
As we waited for our food, we talked a little bit, and I tried to think of the right time to ask Antonia if Lily could sleep over again. We’d had a little tiff already, and I didn’t know if I should let her cool down or not.
“Okay, the food is here.” The waitress returned with a co-worker of hers to help place the food down.
“Ooooh!” Lily beamed at my lobster salad.
“Mommy’s food looks good, huh?” The waitress smiled at Lily, and it was like dead silence fell over the table. My eyes immediately met with Antonia’s, and I swore I could see the fire burning behind them.
“She’s not my mommy!” Lily giggled, totally unaware of the how bad this was.
“Wow, you guys look so much alike. You two must be sisters, and you must be mom,” the waitress grinned, turning to Antonia and making shit worse.
“Just bring me some steak sauce, please,” Antonia replied, giving the young girl a fake smile.
The rest of the dinner was awkward as hell for me, kind of, because Antonia was really quiet. Lily and I kept up conversation though, which was enjoyable as always since my baby was so smart and actually had interesting things to say.
During the ride home, Antonia seemed to be a little calmer, so I turned the music down some and inhaled deeply before speaking.
“So, Antonia, I was wondering if Lily could stay the night tonight, and I will take her to school in the morning. You can then pick her up.”
Antonia snapped her neck to look my way, and when I got a glimpse of the way her bushy ass brows dipped, I knew her answer before she’d even said it.
“What, you’re running things now, Miss Draylah?” She raised one brow and folded her arms as we sat at the red light.
“Running things? No, if I were running something, I wouldn’t have asked you, I would have told you. I’m attempting to get your permission.”
“Well Lily doesn’t want to stay another night. She’s ready to come home.” Turning to Lily, who was in the back seat with the twins, she asked, “Isn’t that right, Lily? Aren’t you ready to go home?”
“No! I want to stay another night! Please!”
Antonia just turned back in her seat, ignoring Lily. When we made it home, I placed the babies in their swings in the den, then helped Lily pull the dollhouse I’d bought her to the middle of the floor so she could play. Antonia and I then sat down on the couch.
“Can I talk to you outside of the den, please.” Antonia hopped back up, smoothing down the back of her burnt orange tweed dress that looked like she bought in the sixties.
“What’s up?” I asked, getting outside of the den with her.
“What the hell are you doing?” she hissed as soon as the word ‘up’ left my mouth.
“What—”
“Matching outfits? Asking can she stay another night and you take her to school? Just what the hell are you trying to do?”
“I’m trying to bond with her. I didn’t think us matching would be a problem, honestly, and why can’t she stay the night and I take her to school?”
“You have her matching with you and your kids like you all are some kind of damn family! And what the hell am I? Just a chauffeur? Oh, and you can pick her up, Antonia,” she mocked me.
“Fine, I can take her and pick her up! I only said that because I thought maybe you wanted to! And we are matching because it’s cute! We are matching because she…” I lowered my voice so Lily wouldn’t hear as I took a deep breath. “We are matching because my fiancé thought it would be nice for mother and daughter to match. That is all.”
“Well you tell your hoodlum ass fiancé that it ain’t cute, because you ain’t her mama, Draylah. I am her mother. Oh, and I bet you were jumping for joy on the inside when that waitress thought you were her mother.” Antonia lowered her lids and shook her head.
“First off, don’t ever talk down on my fiancé, Antonia. You can say what you want about me, but leave him out of it. I don’t play about my man, so leave that subject alone unless you want this two-piece.” Antonia rolled her eyes but said nothing like a smart person. “Secondly, no, I wasn’t jumping for fucking joy. I understand how that was awkward for you. But I’m not gonna lie and say it didn’t make me feel good just a tiny bit.”
“And that is why this little arrangement here isn’t a good idea, Draylah. Now I am sorry you and your aunt didn’t communicate in the past, but what’s done is done. She is my child, and you’re either gonna have to accept that or not see her anymore.”
“Look, can she spend the night?” I quizzed, refusing to acknowledge what she’d just said because in a minute, I was gonna be cleaning her blood off the walls.
“No. Lily, let’s go, sweetie!”
“Noooo!” Lily whined from the den. “I wanna stay, and Ricky isn’t even home yet for me to say goodbye!”
“Lily, let’s go, or no toy time for an entire two weeks!” Antonia barked angrily with her mouth all twisted up.
“You sure you wanna do this, Antonia?” I raised a brow.
“Do what? Take my baby home? You’re damn right I want to.”
“Okay.” I half smiled, and her eyes ping-ponged all over my face as if she were trying to read me.
“Ready.” Lily came out of the den. I was caught off guard when I looked down to see tears rushing down her little cheeks.
“Wait, Antonia, it’s just one more night. Can’t she—”
I was cut off by the sound of the door when Ricky entered. With a sexy smirk, he glided across the foyer with his fine ass, hoodie on, looking like a thug.
“Ricky!” Lily rushed to him, and he dropped down a little to scoop her up. “Can I stay the night again?”
“I’m sure that’s cool. Right, Antonia?” Ricky palmed her shoulder and she slowly gazed up at him as if he were a monster.
“Just one night, and that is it! And she won’t be back for a week!” Antonia stormed off, but Ricky and Lily paid her no mind as they had their own conversation.
I chuckled, walking Antonia to the door, and when she stepped out onto the front porch, I said, “Game on bitch.”
“What—”
I slammed the door in her face and locked it before she could say anything. I was done with this whole co-parent shit or whatever the hell we were doing. It was time Antonia give Lily back, and I didn’t give a fuck what I had to do to make sure she did.
Qamar Hampton
“Fuck, bruh,” I groaned, grabbing my other pillow and placing that shit over my head. I’d stayed out late last night, fucking this fine ass bitch named Angelique, who I planned to smash again tonight once I got some rest.
But the sound of Lace crying wasn’t letting me sleep for shit. I wished like fuck I could go knock out at one of my cribs, but since we had them muthafuckas on the market, I had to move out pretty much. The reason being because the realtor my assistant got was doing open houses literally 24/7 to get shit sold so I could pay all this fucking money I was being sued for. Wasn’t no point in me staying some damn where, where people would be in and fucking out all day.
I was still slightly in disbelief at how my life had fallen apart at the seams, and so quickly. Just last year, I was on top of the fucking world, musically, financially, and personally. N
ow I had about $150,000 sitting in my checking account, my album was moving less units than a nigga selling mixtapes outside of a 7-Eleven, and my love life was non-fucking-existent. Not to mention, I had a damn kid that I wasn’t even close to being ready for.
Out of all the shit I’d done to turn my fucking life upside down this past year and some change, fucking with Lacie was the one thing I would change first. Messing with that bitch got me on Greezy’s bad side, and now I was a prime suspect in her murder. Fucking with that bitch also got me a kid that I didn’t want.
Times like these I wanted to do some lines, but I knew if the people in my life even thought I was getting high again, they’d kick my ass to the curb. I couldn’t handle that shit, so I was gon’ try and refrain for as long as possible. Not to mention, my drug counselor was an old hating ass, hard-boiled bitch, who wouldn’t hesitate to snitch if she caught some shit in my system.
“Ma!” I roared, hopping out of my old bed in my old bedroom, and yanking the door open. “Ma!”
“Alright, Qamar, alright! Damnit, I was putting my shoes on!” my mama hissed as she came storming out of her bedroom and into the room Lace was in.
His crying subsided a few moments after, so I went to take a piss and wash my hands before getting back into bed. The sound of my mother handling him sent me back into a deep slumber that only seemed to last for a few seconds. I swear I’d only shut my damn eyes for a millisecond before she came barging into my room, shaking me with her extra ass.
“Qamar, wake up, sweetie.”
Exhaling into my pillow, I turned my face to the side and looked at my mother’s tired face. She was too old to be caring for a newborn, but at the moment, she ain’t have a choice. It was either her, or the little nigga wouldn’t be getting cared for. Yeah, I was his father, but Lacie knew from day one I didn’t want a damn kid, but she kept his ass anyway. So why the fuck should I be forced to be a damn father all because of that bitch’s choice? Nah, fuck that bullshit.
“What, Ma?” I turned on my back, irritated as hell.
“I need you to watch your baby while I go to the grocery store. And also clean up this damn room, boy! It smells like ass and feet in here!” My mother turned her nose up as she collected the personal sized Hennessy bottles off the computer desk in my room.
“Take him with you.”
“No, I am not going to take him with me. He is your son, Qamar, and you need to start bonding with him. And he looks exactly like you.” She beamed as I stared up at her like she’d lost her fucking mind.
“No the fuck he don’t.”
“Yes he does. Trust me, I know. I’m your damn mama.” Letting out a frustrated sigh, my mother sat down at the computer desk and just looked at me, before spraying some air freshener.
“What?”
“Baby, I know Lacie was the last woman you wanted to have a baby with, trust me. As your mother, she was the last woman I wanted you to have a baby with. But I need you to be a man and take care of your son. How would you have felt if your father treated you this way, all because he didn’t love me?”
“But he does love you. It’s you who doesn’t love him,” I spat, salty as fuck that she refused to get my father out of that hospital and take him back. He was better now, and she still divorced him.
“I do love him, Qamar. I loved him for a very long time, since we were in high school. But sometimes love expires, Qamar; romantic love at least. I still love your father as the man I’ve spent the last thirty plus years with, and had a son with, but not in that way anymore.”
“You and Bia are the same types. I’m glad I’m done with her,” I half lied.
I wanted to be done with Bia’s ass, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And the fact that she was fine with us being apart, pissed me off like a muthafucka. I checked her Instagram daily, and it was full of pictures of her chilling with her homegirls, going places, and being way too damn happy to be away from me. Then she had the nerve to post a picture of her and that bitch ass nigga she’d been fucking with, forcing me to text her ass and call her a nasty hoe. She ain’t respond though, which only infuriated me further.
Chuckling as she stood up, my mother replied, “Well, Qamar, Bia is a wonderful girl, so thank you for the compliment. Now look after your son while I’m gone. He’s been changed, fed, and bathed, so he won’t need much; just maybe a little cuddling or talking to. I should be back in about two hours. Text me if there is anything in particular that you want from the store.”
Without another word, my mama left. I wasn’t even sleepy anymore at this point, so I got up and went to brush, floss, and rinse my teeth before showering. As soon as I stepped out and wrapped a towel around my lower half, my phone began buzzing on the sink. Snatching it up before it fell off, I answered it.
“What’s good, Johnny?” Johnny was this little hood producer I’d hired. He made some good shit, and he was willing to take chump change since he wasn’t famous or anything.
The niggas I used to work with, who I thought were my friends, were still trying to charge me the same as when I was balling. No way I could afford $90,000 for a damn beat these days. But paying $2,500 to Johnny for three beats was nothing… for now.
“Hey, so I got those tracks for you. I can send them to you so you can write to them and then we can record in a few da—”
“Nah, I can meet you at the studio in a little bit, and we can just work right there. I don’t wanna waste any time.”
“Oh, aight. I gotta hit the homie, Sam, and see if he got a room for us to lay down some tracks in then.”
“You tell his ass you’re working with Qamar, and he’ll do what the fuck he needs to do, I’m sure.”
“Uh, yeah, I been meaning to talk to you about something. Like, I’ve been helping you out and shit, so I was wondering if you could do a solid for me and Sam.”
“What?” I frowned, swiping deodorant under my arms as I held the phone between my shoulder and face.
“You think you could maybe pass along some of my work to let Ricky AK, MG, or even Automatic to hear? I heard Frisk is down—”
“Nigga, you got me fucked up! Fuck I look like, a damn music manager? I ain’t passing shit to nobody. Them niggas busy anyway and ain’t got the fucking time. You need to be happy as fuck that I’m even spitting on yo’ shit. I’ll see you at the stu in a few.” I hung up, ego bruised like hell.
Little nigga should have been clicking his heels like Dorothy from Wizard of Oz over the fact that he was working with me. Yet, here the fuck he was, not being appreciative.
After I made myself some food and took my medicine, I went to get dressed, and by the time I was done, I had calmed down, so I called Bia. She didn’t answer, so I texted her to tell her I was sorry for calling her a hoe. I knew she was tired of the same shit, but I honestly couldn’t help it. I dipped on my past two therapy sessions once I’d realized how much that shit was running me for, but now I’m thinking I need to go back.
I sprayed on some cologne, then grabbed my car keys before heading out the door. I was able to keep one of my Lamborghinis, and I was thankful as fuck for the shit. I was Qamar and couldn’t be seen riding around in nothing but luxury vehicles.
As I dipped through the Los Angeles streets, I toked on a blunt, trying to just be calm. I got to the studio in Culver City, and after parking my whip, stunting on the little broke ass niggas still living off of their mamas, I got out.
“Qamar, what’s good? Sam said we can have the room for two hours since he got someone coming to use the room around that time,” Johnny explained once we met each other in the parking lot.
“We got the room for however long I say we got it,” I started off, but Johnny touched my arm, so I moved away, frowning hard as hell.
“Chill, Qamar. You keep doing what you want and he ain’t gon’ let us use the shit last minute like we like to.”
Blowing out hot air, I nodded.
“Aight. Come on and let’s hurry the fuck up. I can’t be gone
from the music scene for too damn long.”
***
Later that night… Around 10 p.m.…
One of Sam’s people cancelled, so he let us use the room they were supposed to when his other appointment showed up. The beats Johnny had were some fire, and deep down I was happy as hell that I’d found his ass before he blew up. He was for sure gon’ be somebody in the music business once niggas heard what he could do. But for now, I was keeping his ass a little secret so he couldn’t jack them damn prices up. Maybe once I got back on, I’d bring him with me.
“Aight, same time tomorrow.” I dapped Johnny up in the parking lot and then got into my car.
I retrieved my phone from my pocket to get my music going, and saw my mother was still blowing me up like she’d been doing for the past twelve hours. Shaking my head, I turned up Ricky’s new single as loud as it would go, and then sped out. I didn’t want to go home, so I dialed that nigga up to see if I could come through, maybe have a drink.
“What’s up?” Ricky answered dryly. “Fuck you ignoring ya mama for?”
He caught me off guard, so for a moment, I sat there silently as I took off at the green light slowly.
“She just bugging about me cleaning that room. You busy? I wanted to come through and chill, maybe play some cards or—”
“Yeah, I’m busy and tired as fuck. I had six meetings, just left a five-hour studio session, and now I’m helping put my kids to bed, muthafucka.”
“Wow. Draylah got yo’ ass over there playing daddy daycare and shit.” I shook my head.
“Take yo’ ass home or call ya mama, Qamar.” Ricky hung up, and I tossed my phone into the passenger seat.
I picked me up some food and couldn’t even wait, so I murdered that shit on the way home. I tossed my trash into the garbage that was outside by the curb, and then went into the house. I wasn’t in my bedroom for ten seconds before my mama came barging in without even knocking.
“Ma, what the fuck!” I barked.
“Get out, Qamar.”
“What?” I frowned in confusion.
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