“Sasha look, I don’t want to fight with you. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.” Sasha just shot her a blank stare not caring too much about her apology and Jayde continued. “This is dumb, Sash! I mean look at Chauncey and Bleek. All of that nonsense, about to come to some serious shit. And what were they fighting over anyway?” Jayde gave Sasha a long up and down stare, from her head to Sasha’s toes then back up to Sasha’s face. “Nothing. They were fighting over…ab-solute-ly nothing.”
Sasha smiled and bit her lip, knowing Jayde. She was calling her “nothing”. Before she could even respond, or consider it, Chauncey emerged from the bathroom.
“Sir, where’s the women’s restroom?” Jayde asked with a grin, turning her back to them. “I promise I will leave after that.”
He pointed down the hall just as the nurse was approaching.
“Sasha?” The nurse called out.
“Yes!” Sasha turned, remembering the real reason she was here. Forget all of this extra stuff, she was here for her friend, her best friend.
The nurse looked at her solemnly and swallowed hard.
“I’m sorry…Mrs. Knights doesn’t want visitors at this time.”
Sasha felt her heart drop to the heels of her Giuseppe sandals.
“Not even me?” Tears rimmed her eyes.
“Told you,” Jayde spat as she turned and headed to the bathroom.
“Yo, fuck her,” Chauncey spoke up before Sasha went crazy and he’d have to murder Jayde because he knew she was deadly and would react foolishly. “Let’s just go. We’ll come back tomorrow, princess. She’ll be a little better then. Shit’ll be calmer.”
Sasha stood stagnated for a while, frozen…then reluctantly nodded and allowed herself to fall into Chauncey’s embrace. She didn’t even care about what Jayde had said or any of the drama. Now her heart hurt because she knew she hadn’t and couldn’t be there for her best friend. She let her pride come in between their friendship and she hoped Tatum could forgive her.
She allowed Chauncey to lead her away in sadness, his immediate focus on now mending her broken heart. And as the waiting area cleared and everyone retreated, Jayde made a detour from the bathroom….to the incubators.
“He’s got ten little fingers…ten little toes. My eyes…my nose…”
“Ugh.” Tatum snapped out of her grave trance to give a half joke. She smiled weakly, envisioning him, she couldn’t wait until she could walk to go and see him.
“Your mouth…seriously, your mouth. I hope he really doesn’t have your mouth though, you know? Or I’m gonna go crazy.” They shared a light laugh and Tatum waved her hand with the little strength she had. Tears still steadily flowed for her ordeal though, she couldn’t stop them, even while laughing.
“I am not loud,” she whispered with a hoarse voice, still staring off. Ree’s face gradually turned serious. He knew she was hurting. Beyond that, he knew she was destroyed. He was too. But it was like he was with a shell of Tatum, and this person was trying its best to impersonate her, and laugh and smile like she would, but they couldn’t. A part of her was dead. Hopefully their son could bring her back to life. Ree wet his lips lightly before speaking.
“He’s fighting, Tatum. He is. He just needs us to fight with him, baby.”
Tatum stared off deep in thought on Ree’s words. They hit her and she knew what they meant. She had to pull it together for her baby.
The young blonde nurse entered with a smile.
“I just checked on him, your little one….about ten minutes ago. He’s so strong. He’s doing really well. Have you decided on a name yet?”
Tatum had been scared to give him a name, scared that he’d be taken too. But she was ready, especially after Ree’s statement.
“Taye….his name is Taye,” she spoke up hoarsely.
Ree smiled lightly. They had discussed given the twins her deceased parents’ names and he had told her it was up to her. Now he saw she decided to, and he was glad.
“And my daughter, can you…can you tell them her name was Tamia?”
That was her mother’s name. And that was how they had come up with her name, the first parts of their own names, Taye and Tamia…Tay-Tam…Tatum.
The nurse smiled, seeing she decided to actually name her daughter and hold a funeral as the doctor offered.
“Of course…that’s beautiful.”
Just then the doctor stepped inside. He smiled lightly at Tatum and then turned to Ree.
“Mr. Knights… may I…, may I speak to you for a minute?”
“Doctor, when will I be able to go and visit my baby?” Tatum interrupted, sounding a little excited.
“I’ll be right back and…we can discuss it.” He didn’t make eye contact.
Tatum didn’t notice. Ree did.
“Mr. Knights,” he repeated.
Ree stood and walked out of the room, following the doctor. His calm demeanor hid his anxiety.
The doctor turned, faced him and just stared at him for a moment.
“He’s dead.”
Ree said it. Ree said it because the doctor’s eyes told him it. He didn’t want a speech, he didn’t want fancy words or other terms like they did for Tamia, like “stillborn”. No, she was dead. Athough Ree said it first his heart desperately wanted the doctor to dispute it.
“He… he…. He…just stopped…breathing.”
In an instant the doctor found his thin frame pinned against the wall and Ree’s hands locked around his throat. He saw the devil. He saw death. He was shaking terribly and incredibly frightened.
“Mr… Knights,” he gasped.
“What did you do?” Ree spewed in a rage, his grip growing tighter and his visible tattoos on his neck and arm seeming to come to life dancing on his bulging veins.
“P-please, Mr. Knnnightsss. I’m s-s-sorry,” he choked out the words.
“What did you do?” Ree repeated angrily, not giving a fuck about where they were or who this was. He needed to release this demon. Someone would die tonight, like his children did.
“Mr. Knights…P-P-Please! I …I didn’t do anything! I swear... I didn’t do a-a-anything!” The doctor pleaded through borrowed breaths.
Ree saw the fear in his eyes, he saw the panic. Ree closed his own lids briefly and his grip became looser. Something else was taking over his rage…defeat. He’d never felt defeated, never had lost. But tonight, death had fought against him, against a man who could make any and every thing happen, and control all, but death had won.
Ree let the doctor’s body fall limply to the ground as the doctor gasped for air, still visibly shaken.
“Exactly,” Ree told him calmly. “You didn’t do anything. You just cut my children out of the womb and let them fucking die. Get the fuck out of here… Now!”
The doctor scrambled to his feet and disappeared down the hall terrified.
Ree himself then dropped down to the ground in a squat and put his hands on his head. He couldn’t cry, for some reason, he just couldn’t. Maybe it hurt so bad he went numb. But he knew he had to sit there and let it soak in, and then let it go. He had lost a daughter and a son in one night and he knew in a way he was about to lose his wife, at least for a little while. And even as a man of his stature, he couldn’t do anything about it. No, he was defeated.
“A nigga fucks up, a lot. All of ‘em. They all fuck bitches, they all lie, they all cheat. Sometimes they stop, sometimes they don’t.”
–Chauncey, Thicker than Water
-12-
Act III
“Yeah, aight. Set up the last meeting for the schedules. Get the wheels rolling on this mothafucka.”
And with that last demand, Chauncey disconnected the call. He was glad this shit was coming to an end, the planning and setting up end. Now it was time to get money, and for Respect, time to almost be done.
Since the hospital incident Chauncey had been dealing with Bleek strictly on a business level. Bleek shot him a ‘my bad’ after that and Chauncey blew it off, but
he definitely saw the young boy in a new light. Had it been a couple of years ago, he’d be covered in dirt. But the new Chauncey saw the bigger picture, especially after Ree painted it for him. Just from the conversation they’d just shared, one could tell Chauncey didn’t fuck with him too tough.
“Clown ass country mothafucka,” Chauncey mumbled as he twisted up something in his swishers. It was dark out and he was parked outside of his home in his Range Rover, something he rarely drove.
He was gonna blow this one and then go blow Sasha’s back out, that was the plan at least.
“Mr. Mills? Mr. Mills, is that you in there?”
Chauncey stared blankly out of his tinted windows at his little old white neighbor, Mrs. Pearl, as she tapped on his vehicle. She could barely see him but he could see her.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” he mumbled. Mrs. Pearl looked like Blanche from the Golden Girls.
“Yeah Mrs. Pearl, it’s me,” he said in exasperation, placing his smoke in the ashtray. He cracked the window.
“What’s up?”
Why this little old lady thought they were best friends, Chauncey found amusing and confusing. The last thing her little white ass needed was a big black drug dealer friend. But he figured she knew he had money, and she had money, so they had that in common.
“Oh,” she smiled and giggled. “I thought so. But I haven’t seen you in your truck in quite a while.” Chauncey nodded while she laughed some more, trying to steal peeks at what he was doing. Mrs. Pearl was nosy as hell.
“Um, well anyway. I just wanted to say that I baked a pie for you, Sasha, and the little one. Apple of course, with the Granny Smiths, from the backyard.”
Chauncey couldn’t front, that sounded type right at this moment.
“That’s what’s up, Mrs. Pearl. Good looking out.”
He always talked to her in his slang, she got a kick out of it.
“No doubt C, no doubt,” she smiled back and they both shared a hearty laugh. “You just come by and grab it when you’re done… or tomorrow morning.”
“Alright, Mrs. Pearl. I’ll probably swing by in the a.m. That’s cool with you?”
“Cool with me, cutie pie!” She winked and then began moving her old, wrinkled butt away and toward her door.
Chauncey shook his head and chuckled, and was about to roll up the window but she doubled back.
“Oh! One more thing…just be careful smoking those weeds Chauncey!” She whispered. “The popo rolled through here twice this evening.”
Chauncey threw his head back not able to take anymore. Wait until he told Sasha, she always got a kick out of his Mrs. Pearl stories.
“Alright, thanks for the heads up.” The laugh was still in his voice.
She started walking again after shooting him a nod, and just as Chauncey was rolling up his window, she turned again.
“Oh! One more thing…wait, what was it? Oh, forgive me Chauncey, you know I’m almost eighty years old, I’m getting up there. Oh wait…yes, I remember. One more thing!”
Chauncey shook his head and rolled the window all the way down. He knew when Mrs. Pearl said that, they’d be talking all night. He sparked up and prepared for it.
The knocking on her door let her know that he was there. She smiled, grabbed a bottle of Beyonce’s Heat perfume and sprayed it in her hair, at the hem of her bustier and on the lining of her panties as she grinned wide. She strutted sexily to the door and pulled it open, standing modelesque in her black lingerie, garter belt and thigh highs, and spiked heels. Her pussy instantly creamed from the sight of him.
“Damn, you don’t waste no time, huh? You did all that in twenty minutes?” Chauncey asked, stepping inside calmly but enjoying the scenery.
“Years of practice,” Lizette smiled, thinking of her days at the strip club. Sometimes she literally had to get as sexy as possible in three minutes flat. “Come in, make yourself at home Chauncey.”
“I plan to…right in here,” he told her, placing a finger to her lips. He licked his own and stared right at her, his dark eyes piercing her brown ones. “And in here,” he added, palming her ass. Lizette was on fire, Chauncey clearly in control.
She closed the door and followed behind him as he stepped heavy through her apartment in his expensive thug wear and jewels. He smelled good, like Issey Miyake cologne and money.
“You know…I was surprised when you called. Even when you said you were coming, I still didn’t believe you.”
“Why is that?” He asked blasé’ like, flopping comfortably down on her couch. “Come here, walk to me.”
“I don’t know,” she sang immaturely, moving to him.
“Nah, slow.”
She paused, and then did as she was told.
“So you the boss? You like to be in control, huh?”
Chauncey smirked as she neared him. Lizette had a body on her, something out of this world. But she was a dimwit. He didn’t want to fuck her brain though, he just wanted her to bless him with it.
“You talk too much. Come do something with all that mouth.”
Lizette chuckled and then knelt down, squatting in between his knees. Chauncey picked up the remote and turned to the basketball game as she unbuckled his pants.
“So you want a quiet chick…like Sasha?”
Chauncey took the remote and hit her on the side of her head roughly, stunning her a bit.
“That’s what the fuck I’m talking about. You talk too much.”
Lizette pouted and rubbed the side of her head. She wasn’t feeling too sexy now but she also didn’t want him to go.
“Ow.”
Chauncey softened a bit, cupping her chin.
“Come on, ma. I came here to relieve stress. Not pick up more of that shit. Just suck my dick, baby. Suck it like a pro…I know you can.”
Lizette licked her lips and smiled, pulling out his shaft.
“You know I can.”
If Chauncey was into pimping, it’d take nothing to put her on his team. She ate up all his shit.
“That’s my girl,” he spoke lowly as she wrapped her lips around his thick head and wet it with extra saliva. She hocked up spit and covered his dick with it, and then she used her hands and mouth to do spirals on his tool.
“Damn… that’s what I came for!”
Chauncey leaned back and enjoyed the trip as Lebron scored a three.
He was back to his old ways.
Ree had dove nose first into wrapping up the plans and making as much money as possible, trying his best at executing his only form of therapy for something emotional occurring in his life – forgetting it. He wanted to hold on to the slight memory of his children, especially those stolen moments he had with Taye, but he also, as bad as it sounded, wanted to forget them.
He tried to be there for Tatum but she hardly let him. Their bedroom was constantly filled with flowers, mostly from Sasha, some from him, Crush, Jayde, and Chauncey. Sasha visited her and he could tell Tatum tried her best to be present during the visits but she was still lost. Often she would just sit in the dark, drapes drawn or sleep the day away, company or no company.
But still he talked to her every day. He fed her, helped her bathe, washed her hair, and rubbed her on her back until she fell asleep in his arms every night. They were in a space, a space that shouldn’t have been theirs to own for at least some years to come. No, as newlyweds, and newly multi-millionaire newlyweds, they should have been living it up, sexing and spending lavishly. But tragedy had put a halt on all of that and Ree was sure they would bounce back shortly, but again he would be wrong.
TTW 3 ( Thicker Than Water 3 ) Page 24