Turned Out by His Hood Mentality 1

by Diamond D Johnson

  “Fuck! Fuck! Come on, bae. You been bleeding like this, or this shit just happened?” I inquired.

  I swear I ain’t know what to do. I wanted to pull my phone out and call my mama.

  “This just... started. I’m having a miscarriage, baby… I’m losing the baby!” Twinkle cried, and then she looked up at me with tears streaming down her face.

  I felt so fuckin’ bad that I couldn’t even look shorty in her eyes. Any other time, I felt like I had a magic calling when it came to calming Twinkle down, but right now, if there was a chance that she was losing our baby, then I knew it wasn’t shit I would be able to do.

  “We don’t know that for sure. Come on. Let’s go find out what’s going on,” I said, trying to be the voice of reason as I walked over and picked her up from the floor.

  Now, I didn’t know much about labor and delivery, but I think anyone with two eyes could see that Twinkle was losing our baby. Because she was already so hysterical, I didn’t want to agree with her. With her in my arms, I picked up the throw blanket from the couch and walked out of the house.

  We made it outside to my car, and I laid the blanket out on the seat and then sat her down and put the seatbelt around her. The whole ride over, I was smooth talking her, trying to get her to calm down, but nothing I said or did was working. The pain had her twisting and turning her body in the seat, and even holding onto her abdomen like that’s where most of it was coming from. Luckily, we lived close to a hospital, so it didn’t take us long at all to get there.

  I pulled my whip into the emergency room entrance, and the way I hopped out and rushed Twinkle in, you would have thought I worked for the damn EMS. I was hollering out that my girl was pregnant and that she needed to seek some medical attention right now. It wasn’t long before they had Twinkle in a wheelchair and were wheeling her to a room. The whole time, I was sweating like a motha fucka.

  Once they got her in a room, I stayed outside with my back against the wall. My mama had just told me this morning that if Twinkle kept stressing the way that she was, it was a possibility that it wouldn’t be a baby. Too selfish, too stubborn to call Twinkle and have a conversation with her… and now this was happening. The doctor hadn’t made it into the room yet to even address what caused the miscarriage, but I knew for a fact that stress had to do with it. If I was fucked up myself, I could only imagine the way Twinkle had been feeling for the last two weeks, especially after I hit below the belt and told her that I could possibly have another baby on the way. That shit was foul on so many levels.

  I stayed outside for a good ten minutes because I couldn’t stand the sound or the visual of Twinkle in that room crying. While I was out there, I pulled out my phone and sent a text message to Twinkle’s mama, my mama, and Billionaire, letting them all know to come down to the hospital. I would have texted her homegirl, Normani, because I knew how much the two of them cared about each other, but I didn’t have her number in my phone. They needed to be there for support because I knew it was only so much that I could say. I was fucked up right now too.

  While I was outside, a nurse walked out of Twinkle’s room.

  “What’s going on with her?” I questioned the white nurse.

  “She’s having a miscarriage. She was having an ectopic pregnancy, where the baby was growing outside of her uterus. We have her stable, and right now, we’re just waiting on the doctor. She’s in a great amount of pain, so the doctor will prescribe her something for that. You should go in there with her. I’m sure she can use you right now,” the nurse told me with a soft smile on her face, and then she walked away.

  Trust me, I wasn’t purposely not being in there with Twinkle, but this was hard on me too. I didn’t like pain, especially for the pain to be placed on someone I really loved. After a minute, I was able to get myself together, and then I walked into the hospital room where Twinkle was. They’d already hooked her up on an IV and everything. She was lying on her back and using the hand that didn’t have the needle in it to wipe her face.

  I walked over, stood at the head of the bed, and placed my hand in her hair. As I smoothed her hair down, we didn’t say anything to each other. I felt a tear fall from my eyes, and with me being the type of person who hated crying in front of people, even my girl, I was surprised when I didn’t even bother to wipe it.

  About twenty minutes passed before the doctor came into the room to examine Twinkle and further let us know what was going on. The same time he was walking into the room, so was my mama and Twinkle’s mama. They both rushed to her bedside, damn near pushing me out of the way. I stood now at the foot of the bed, watching the doctor.

  He basically confirmed what the nurse had told us. He let us know the dangers that could have possibly happened had the baby kept growing outside of her uterus. It wouldn’t have been good for Twinkle or our baby, and the odds of them both dying were very high.

  By the time he finished letting us know what was going on, Billion was walking into the room. He was still in his clothes from earlier because I’d just left him not even two hours ago. Usually, when everyone got around each other, it was nothing but jokes and shit. At this moment, everyone was serious and holding onto the same sad facial expression.

  I never got a chance to kiss all over her stomach and express to her how happy I was that she was carrying my baby because the way I found out was foul. We ain’t even get to experience that first prenatal appointment and hear the heartbeat. This shit was fucked up on so many levels, but as the man, I was trying to be strong for us both.

  “Everything going to be alright, Twink. You know that, right?” I asked, now that I was back standing at the head of the bed.

  Her mama was standing on the other side, while my mama and Billion were sitting on the chairs that weren’t too far from the bed. Twinkle looked up at me with those big, brown eyes and rolled them.

  “You can say that everything is going to be alright because although we just lost a child, you have another one on the way. Just go, Monterius. Get the hell from away from me,” she snapped and then started with her crying again.

  I couldn’t even say that I was shocked that she threw that out there. She was hurting, so I honestly didn’t expect her to say anything other than that. I took that to the chin and nodded then took a seat on the couch next to a window.

  This shit was fucked up on so many levels. A woman who had been in my life for years… a woman who I fuckin’ loved more than I loved my fuckin’ self… a woman who was the only woman that I’d ever seen a future with just lost our baby. Then, on the other hand, there was someone else who could possibly be carrying my son, and I didn’t even know her middle name.

  Trinity was just someone I fucked from time to time. I swear, niggas, myself included, will live these wild ass lives, fucking different bitches, knowing that we have somebody at home that we deeply care about, with no worry about the way we can hurt our shorties. Can you imagine if this baby Trinity had was actually mine? Mannnn, I didn’t even want to begin to look at the way that would fuck Twinkle up.

  “Cuz, I don’t know why we had to come all the way to the mall for you to get your little shorty something for Valentine’s Day. Back in the day, when I was your age, I used to have my mama take me down to the dollar store, and I would pick out like five bears and some chocolate. I would give them to my favorite five shorties. You ten years old, man. Fuck you need a girlfriend for?” I questioned my son, Lil Bill, as he and I walked in Aventura mall.

  My daughter, Khari, was with us as well, wanting to pick up a Valentines’ day gift for her teacher, Ms. Lovely. Plus, these new Valentine’s Day Jordans dropped today that I wanted to get for her, so she could wear them tomorrow with the outfit that Denim had already bought her. Valentine’s Day was tomorrow, and I’d already put my order in days ago to have flowers, teddy bears, and chocolate delivered to my mama, grandma, and Twinkle.

  I knew that Monterius was going to make sure that Twinkle was good, whether she was fuckin’ with him or not, bu
t I just felt the need to send a little love her way. It had been a few weeks since she had the miscarriage, and she was still fucked up about it.

  When Monterius hit me that night to come down to the hospital because Twinkle was having some complications with the pregnancy, I swear I didn’t even want to go because I hated having to witness stuff like that. No man wanted to see a loved one in pain. I knew it was serious just from the way that Monterius had worded the text message. It was fucked up how she lost the baby, but it was even more fucked up that Monterius could possibly have another baby on the way. I didn’t even know shit about that, and that man and I told each other everything. I didn’t know about it until Twinkle said it in the hospital room.

  That was my nigga and all, and I had been rooting for their relationship for some time. But if he had an outside baby on Twinkle, she needed to give that nigga his walking papers. Some shit just wasn’t forgivable. I wasn’t even just saying that because Twinkle was blood, and she had a special place in my heart. I was saying the shit because certain shit in relationships should be deal-breakers, and having a baby on your spouse is one of them.

  Before you ladies get all mad and start calling me a hypocrite or whatnot, let me reiterate the fact that Khari wasn’t a baby that I had on Sidnesha. Sidnesha and I were done... over… finished, so that situation was nowhere near comparable to what Monterius had going on. He and I had our talk, and he told me straight up that he really didn’t know if the baby was his, but he also let it be known that it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that he was the father. I guess we would find out in the next two months because the Trinity girl was seven months pregnant.

  Anyway, with Valentine's Day tomorrow and all, I decided to send flowers and shit to Normani’s job, but I figured that I would actually go there. Instead of meeting her in the parking garage with gifts, I would go into the office with a handful of shit for her. What woman wouldn’t be happy about that? I knew for a fact that she didn’t have a clue that I was going to surprise her because yesterday evening, she and I were talking on the phone, and she inquired about what I had planned for tomorrow. I played dumb, acting like I didn’t know what the hell tomorrow was.

  Since Normani had given me her phone number, I won’t even flex like she and I sit up and talk on the phone every night because we don’t. Just like she was busy, a nigga was busy too, but I stayed finding time to call her, just to check in. At night, she was busy working on her book because she had a book signing coming up in a few weeks, where I planned to pop up on her because she had yet to inform a nigga where the shit was going to be.

  Yesterday, I went to visit Twinkle and make sure she was alright, and she told me where the event was taking place. Normani was trying like a motha fucka to keep a nigga in the friend zone. I was steadily trying to break her out of that shit, which is why I made us dinner reservations for tomorrow night, and I wasn’t even giving her an option not to come. All that talking on the phone shit (when we actually had the time to) and all of that texting and shit was for the fuckin’ birds. I wanted to see her in person and kiss up on her again.

  “The dollar store? I ain’t going to the dollar store to get no teddy bear. I want to get her some Gucci shoes,” Lil Bill told me the second we walked into the mall.

  I sucked my teeth at his revelation and put my hand on his shoulder, turning him around, and slowing him down, so he could look at me.

  “You playing the playa game all wrong, pimping. What you getting her Gucci shoes for? What she ever got you?” I asked.

  I couldn’t have my son out here looking like some lame ass little boy who was going to shower some little girl with gifts, so she could like him. Don’t get me wrong, I had the most handsome son out, but just because you looked nice, that didn’t make you immune to being silly over someone. Lil nigga wasn’t only handsome, but he was too fuckin’ fly. I’ve been around lil’ man for over a month, and I ain’t never even seen him repeat a pair of shoes. Today, he was in a pair of black and neon green Nike shorts with a matching black shirt. Black and neon green Nike Air Maxes were on his feet, and he wore the chain around his neck that I’d gotten him last week. His hair wasn’t braided today, so he had it pulled up in a ponytail.

  Lil Bill had been telling me how he wanted dreads, but Sidnesha wasn’t having that shit. When it came to shit like that, I didn’t want to have the final say so because, for one, Nesha did his hair, and I didn’t want to make a decision on something that I didn’t know much about. I was just in charge of taking him to get his line-ups. If I had it my way, though, I would just want him to cut it off because even with this ponytail, he looked like a little girl.

  “What you mean what she got me? She be buying me v-bucks for Fortnite. You don’t even have to buy the shoes for me. I got my own money,” he said, pulling out his wallet and showing me his debit card.

  I laughed and then placed my hand on the back of his head, pulling him into me. I kissed the top of his head, and we continued to walk.

  “What your mama got to say about this lil girlfriend? I know she got a lot to say,” I asked, and he laughed.

  “Mama can’t stand her. She be taking my phone from me at night because she don’t want me talking on the phone with her. I think she’s just jealous that I’m giving my attention to somebody else. But she don’t have to be jealous. That’s my number one girl forever,” Lil Bill said.

  He loved his mama in the way that I loved mine, and I loved that about him because I couldn’t stand a boy who thought they were too cool to show love to their mama.

  “She be babying me too much, Dad. I’m growing up. I’m about to be eleven soon,” he voiced.

  I couldn’t even believe that my lil man was about to be eleven in just two more months. That fuckin’ time flew by so fast. Because I had missed out on five birthdays, I knew that whatever my son wanted to do as far as a birthday party, I wasn’t sparing any expense because I owed him that much. I swear, if his young ass was old enough to drive, I would fuck around and cop him a car.

  “You are her only child, so she going to be all on you like that. She means well, though. What’s up with you, lil mama? I know you ain’t got no boyfriend. I’ll beat his lil ass up,” I joked, picking my daughter up and holding her in my arms. She laughed as I tickled her.

  “I don’t have no boyfriend, Daddy. Boys are grossss,” she dragged.

  “I want you to keep this same energy ten years from now. I’m holding you to this,” I told her.

  She nodded her head up and down like she was never going to change her mind about how she felt about boys.

  We walked into the kids' Gucci store that was on the lower level of the mall, and when we got inside, I put Khari down. My son instantly went over to the girl’s section, looking for what he wanted for his girl. Listen, I wasn’t encouraging this shit, but I just looked at it as something innocent. I was my son’s age before. I knew how it was to have a lil crush on somebody. When I was his age, my mama would take me the day before Valentines’ day to pick up a lil something too for the shorties that I was crushing on. Shit, it wasn’t like I was taking his lil ass to Jared’s to get his shorty a wedding ring. I gave it to the end of the month, and his ass was going to be on to the next one. That’s how little boys were. They didn’t know shit about love.

  “Can I get this, Daddyyyy?” my daughter cooed, picking up a cute Gucci purse and showing it to me. It had a bunch of colors on it, and it was cute for her.

  “Yeah. I’m going to sit down right here. Anything you want, show it to the lady,” I let her know.

  I probably shouldn’t have told her ass that because she was more than likely going to go crazy in this store, but whatever. I worked hard so my kids could have whatever they wanted.

  I hadn’t heard from Normani all day, so while Lil Bill and Khari did their thing, I pulled my phone out and started a Facetime call. I hoped she would answer because whenever I tried to call her on Facetime, she always tried to dodge a nigga. If I hadn’t seen her in person, I
would’ve thought that she was catfishing a nigga. The phone eventually connected, and that’s when her face popped up on the screen. From her surroundings, she looked like she was in a kitchen. I assumed that she was home based on the grey tank top she had on. This was the most laid-back attire that I’d ever seen her in.

  “I was beginning to think that I needed to buy you a new phone. You never answer me when I call you on Facetime,” I spoke into the phone.

  At the same time, I was squinting, trying to get a good look at her background and make sure that there was no nigga in there.

  She laughed at me and then rolled her eyes.

  “You always Facetime me at the oddest hours of the day. There are times when I’m meditating, times when I’m in the shower, reading, writing, and I can’t answer the Facetime call. You caught me at a good time tonight. I’m in the kitchen, preparing dinner. Where are you?” she asked.

  I could hear whatever she was making sizzling and shit in the background. From what I was able to see in her kitchen, I could tell that her home was nice. Her kitchen looked like one that would be featured in a magazine for luxury homes. I didn’t expect anything less from her, though, because her ass had good taste.

  “I’m at the mall with my kids. I hope you not over there cooking a pre-Valentine’s Day meal for a nigga,” I said, and she laughed.

  “You say some of the craziest things out of your mouth. I thought you didn’t know that Valentine’s Day was tomorrow. I brought it up to you, and you pretended like you didn’t know what I was even talking about,” she said.

  “Shit, I don’t. That’s just what I keep hearing,” I said, all nonchalant, like tomorrow was no big deal to me.

  “These too, Daddy? Can I have these too?” Khari asked, walking over and showing me three pairs of damn shoes.

  Two of them were sneakers, and the other one was a sandal. There was a little couch next to me, which had all kinds of shirts, skirts, and dresses that the saleslady had brought over in Khari’s size, which were all things that she had requested for her to bring. She obviously got that shit from her mama because I personally knew how much Denim liked to shop.