Baby Momma Saga

by Ni'chelle Genovese

  I leaned up and kissed Ris on the forehead. “Okay, this is the last time. I promise. Tell me how much we can trust Shiree on this one? If anything gets out, shit can get real hot for us both, real fast.” I was confident that with all the drug money and all my legit money we could pull this off. But everyone had to play their part, follow their scripts, and if anything switched up we needed to improvise accordingly.

  Never in a million years would I have ever guessed Ris’s li’l sister Shiree, aka Big Shirley, would end up messin’ with Big Baby and gettin’ burned. I didn’t see it comin’, but I sure as hell saw it as a solution.

  Still Waters Run Deep

  30

  Everything had fallen into place just as I’d hoped, if not better. I had Ris’s reassurance that Shiree would stay in pocket and, since we’d paid her at least three times what she normally saw in a year from dancing at the club, I finally felt more confident in my plan. Things were fitting together flawlessly. I wasn’t sure if it was blind luck or fate, but I never would have thought the day Ris moved her cousin in would be the day to change all of our lives.

  If there’s one thing I had to give Rah credit for, it would definitely be his financial support. Dealing with Rah on a personal level had me accustomed to being home alone and often. He may have never been there, but he sure as hell made sure everything was paid on time. All of our bills were paid in full, the house was paid off, and all the cars. I was the go-to person at the bank, and my salary was almost $100,000 a year. Thanks to Rah I rarely needed to touch my own money. I invested most of it and paid for Larissa’s home. If Rasheed had had any idea how much my net worth really was, I doubted he’d have ever stepped a foot back out on the streets to hustle.

  Trenisha, aka Honey, was Ris’s nineteen-year-old first cousin. She was livin’ with their grandmother and basically runnin’ wild, losin’ her damn mind. When she almost died from an OxyContin overdose, she was sent to Larissa’s. Their grandmother swore up and down the girl was tryin’ to kill herself, but I know a little about recreational drug use and it just seemed to be something that ran deep in that family. Don’t get me wrong, Larissa was my heart, but she’d always been the type of person to look for different kinds of highs. It started with liquor in college. Then she started smoking weed, popping ectasy, and when I got pregnant with Trey, Larissa started doin’ coke and Lord knew what else. She’s always tried to hide her drug use from me, but I’d accepted her for who she was, flaws and all. Hell, half the niggas out there worked for Rah. Even though they didn’t know Ris was my girlfriend, it bothered me to have her out buying shit off of the street like that. When needed, I could bypass Rasheed and talk Derrick into sellin’ me what I needed to keep her out of trouble but, no matter how much I gave her, it was never enough. I put a lot of the blame on myself since I couldn’t be with her full time. I asked her once if she could quit all the drugs for me and she told me if she had me full time she wouldn’t need a high to feel good. I did that for her.

  I tried putting myself in her shoes a thousand times and if the shoe was on the other foot and she was the one bouncing between me and another nigga, I would have cut her loose a long time ago. I knew I had to have been puttin’ her through hell. She loved me so much an’ had always tried so hard to understand my relationship wit’ Rah. I encouraged her to date other women, go out and meet new people, but she always refused. Telling me that I was enough for her and one day I’d realize she was enough for me. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to love a man the same way that I love her. It’s hard to explain the difference between being in love with a man and loving another woman. One is empathetic and understanding, the other can be protective and domineering. I was torn between whether I want to be dominated or be dominating.

  The way Rah provided for me was the way I provide for Ris. She didn’t have to work or worry about money because I took care of all that. I started a stay-at-home business for her a year ago, specializing in sex toys, lubes, you name it, but having Honey come stay at the house didn’t make matters any better. Ris suggested she audition and dance at the club since she was young and didn’t want to seriously hold a regular job, plus she would be under the watchful eye of Shiree to make sure she stayed out of trouble. I wanted no part in that shit. That was one side of the business Rah seemed to never have a problem running by himself. Of course, Honey auditioned and got the job; she was thick, pretty, and a little too hoodish for my standards but just right for the club.

  It didn’t take long before Ris and Honey started combining whatever she earned at the club with Ris’s profits from the business and they’d waste it on pills, alcohol, and whatever else. I was helping Ris with a romance party one night when Honey wandered in right in the middle of my “good head” demonstration. Thankfully, we didn’t have a huge turnout that night; there were only two couples and a few women from my job gathered in our living room.

  “Oh, girl, I need som’a dat for my boo!” She burst into the room wearing what looked like a black spandex cat suit minus the tail, breasts pushed up so high they touched her chin, and she was obviously high as hell.

  I was annoyed. I couldn’t believe she’d just interrupted me during a presentation.

  “Honey, what boo you talking about?” I asked. “You either working at the club or you’re here with Ris. Let me find out y’all kissin’ cousins.” I smirked, proud of how quickly I’d cut her down, and repositioned myself to finish demonstrating to my clients the best angle to deep throat using a banana.

  “Shiiit, well, I guess you can say I puts in a li’l ova time wit’ the boss, an’ um his fine yella ass pays a bitch bills, so I needs to know how to work him so he drop mo’ of dat serious paper.” She was two-steppin’ in place like she’d won the lottery and cheesin’ at me like the cat that ate the canary.

  I gagged despite the glob of numbing cream dabbed in the back of my throat and my audience stared on in surprise.

  It’s ironic that neither I nor Ris bothered to tell Honey that fine-ass “yella nigga” running the Hot Spot was already taken. It never even crossed my mind to mention it. Maybe somewhere deep down I really wanted Rasheed to fuck up, maybe I just really wanted a reason to finally live my life the way I felt I should be living it. I fought to hide my reaction and avoided making eye contact with Ris, who was giving me an “I told you so” glare. Honey and the rest of our guests were waiting for me to continue with my demonstration, but I was just too shocked and growing even more upset by the second. Ris saved me from embarrassing myself and took over while I went upstairs to cool off.

  “Sorry, y’all. Okay. Ladies, rule number one is that you gotta remember to breathe through ya nose when . . .” Ris’s words trailed off as I left the room.

  That was it, I was done feeling sorry for myself. Years ago Ris and I had decided Rah would fund our futures, whether he wanted to or not, and at that moment I’d felt that enough had been done to secure our well-being and everything had advanced to the point where we no longer needed him in the picture.

  Questions

  31

  Today was the day. Michelle had finally agreed to come see a nigga! I’d been dreamin’ ’bout her, damn near goin’ crazy in here tryin’ to figure out what she been doin’ or if she been fuckin’ somebody else already. I had so much shit to say an’ ain’t even know where to start. I ain’t neva felt so fucked up in all my life. I had to watch my momma break down at my sentencing. She acted like they was givin’ my ass the death sentence or some shit, but consecutive life sentences is damn close enough I guess. I was appealin’ my sentence ’cause even though my gun was used in the murders that was all the fuck they had to convict me. When it’s all said an’ done there wasn’t enough circumstantial evidence, an’ talkin’ to a few niggas in here made me think I had a chance at callin’ it a mistrial. I’d asked Chelle not to bring Trey up here. I didn’t really want him to see me like this, an’ even though I know he wouldn’t understand now, I jus’ prayed as he got older he would one day understa
nd why I hustled an’ why he needed to make betta decisions than I had.

  This prison shit ain’t no fuckin’ cakewalk. Yeah, I had connects from my boys outside an’ a few of the guards in here used to be on my roster, but they could only do so much. For the most part a nigga could still get real food, pussy, and my card stayed loaded up wit’ cash regardless of me needin’ shit or not. I needed to know Chelle was gonna support a nigga; until my appeal went through, I needed to make sure she kept my shit in play on the streets and kept the cash flow on point so we would stay set. She didn’t come to my trial and I didn’t want her to. It was important that she not appear to have anything to do with the bullshit I was in. It hurt to sit in front of the judge and have my momma sit and cry as I was handed my sentence, but I pushed all that shit down inside me and ignored the pain and the anger.

  “Inmate, at attention.”

  One of the guards was glarin’ at me from outside my cell. I’d nicknamed his bitch ass “Baby Shit.” He one of them niggas who played like they hard than a mufucka, but really he softer than baby shit. He was one of the few niggas who gave me grief over my special treatment, but he couldn’t do shit about it. He was kinda new and still tryin’a get in where the fuck he fit in with the otha guards. It ain’ take much to realize they had they own social hierarchy in here. A guard who wasn’t down was a liability, and they salary wasn’t shit so they made bank off niggas like me.

  “You know the routine, nigga, solitary.”

  I turned my back and put my hands up to the space in the cell bars behind me. He roughly snapped the cold metal cuffs around my wrists behind my back and then shackled my ankles.

  “We need to make this shit quick, my baby momma comin’ to see me today.” I was led out of my cell and down a flight of stairs toward the solitary confinement cells. The entire ambiance changes when you hit solitary. The hallway is dim and most of the lights in the ceiling are either out or flickerin’. The entire wing was designated for high risk, violent, and hard-to-manage inmates. I, however, was none of these.

  “A’ight, nigga, Officer Reynolds got you for the next hour.” Baby Shit led me toward the last cell at the end of the hall and knocked twice before unlockin’ the door and nudgin’ me inside.

  “Took you long enough to get down here, nigga, you know I don’t like to wait.”

  I tried to wait for my eyes to adjust but couldn’t make out anything in the pitch-black cell. It smelled like bleach, piss, and old body sweat; solitary always smelled that way. I closed my eyes and inhaled slowly. Cool Water for Women drifted toward me. It was not one of my favorite fragrances, but I shuffled in the direction of the perfume anyway.

  “I heard ya baby momma comin’ today so I decided to get you in here early. Don’t want that dick standin’ at attention for nobody but me. Ya hear me, nigga?”

  I could hear her moving toward me from the opposite side of the cell. She struck a match, lightin’ the room up jus’ long enough for me to see her as she stopped in front of me, naked, her uniform crumpled in the corner.

  “You know this yo’ dick, baby. I ain’t pressed ’bout seein’ that bitch; she ain’t made it stand up in years. I jus’ need to make sure she keep my paper right an’ take care of my son.” Like I said, a nigga still get pussy, even on lockdown. Officer Reynolds wasn’t a five star, first class, hell she wasn’t even back-up material. There was nothin’ cute on or about her, but when it’s dark, pussy feel like pussy, ya hear me. She was far from the usual type of woman I fucked wit’, but it was this or my hand ’cause I wasn’t lettin’ anotha nigga suck me off. We usually met up in the evenin’s.

  We were let outta our cells twice a week to see this bullshit psychiatrist. I ain’t neva met the nigga personally, but he sure as hell expensive than a mufucka. Cost me thirty thou jus’ to get him to keep his mouth shut and another ten Gs to write up false observations and shit like he been seein’ me on a regular basis. I was cool with him, but shrinks didn’t last long in here. If we got anotha one anytime soon the price would probably go up and I would be outta money if I had to keep doin’ this kind of shit. My sanity in here depended on whether or not I could get Chelle to do some work for me on the outside to keep our cash flow up.

  One of my boys told me ’bout her sellin’ the club and shit so she was def’ stackin’ paper. The few who were still loyal to me had finished off the last of their sales and had been puttin’ the cash on the books for me in here. Without the lights on I could pretend her lips were Michelle’s, or Diamond’s, or even Honey’s. Yeah, it would be real good to see Chelle.

  Princes and Princesses

  32

  I looked out over the city from my office on the eighteenth floor. You could smell the spring fever. It was finally starting to stay light outside longer and we were sitting in the lower sixties almost every day. The sun glimmered off the diamond on my left hand, drawing my attention downward. Four months ago, I’d become engaged to Ris. She loved me and made love to me in ways Rasheed would never be able to or ever even wanted to. She was such a romantic and always so gentle, touching me the right way, kissing me just the way I liked. Rah was always on some grab, bite, and pull rough porno shit. It was starting to become clear that Ris was the perfect balance for me. I never knew it was physically possible to be in love with two different people at the same time. But there I was. I loved them both for very different reasons and I finally got the courage to face the reality of making up my mind.

  Rah’d been charged with double homicide and was sentenced to consecutive life sentences and I was living as close to a perfect life as I possibly could. It was still early. If I changed my mind and never showed up Rah wouldn’t be able to do shit about it. I’d finally spoken with him and agreed to visit him today. It wouldn’t be easy, but I needed this face-to-face time. I finally needed closure.

  I had one stop to make before I headed to the penitentiary to see Rasheed. In the beginning I’d planned to just leave Rasheed and take his money with me. Derrick was always loyal to Rah; there was no need for him to go as far as he went and justice had been served in this instance. When I’d told Rah about the fraud situation I’d handled at the bank, I was certain he’d try it. He was always looking for ways to hide or move money. I’d started a credit watch program with Equifax the week before telling him the bank idea, and sure enough when First Union ran my info to open an account I was immediately sent a confirmation e-mail to activity under my Social Security number. I contacted one of my girls who was a teller at the bank, and she had no problem giving me the account number and the balance. It was in my name after all. Over the course of the last six months or so Rasheed had been conducting business and telling whoever to deposit shit they owed him there or put it on his books. He had over $200,000 in that checking account alone. I planned to withdraw it all and close the account for good.

  My phone chimed, letting me know I had an appointment scheduled in my calendar. I checked my reflection in the mirror. I’d chosen to wear my hair loose the way he liked it, and the forty-five minutes a day on the stair climber in our corporate gym had my ass and hips fitting nicely into my black and grey Lanvin blazer and matching skirt; both gifts from Ris. I admired my skin and my cheekbones in the glass. I looked well rested and happy for a change. I’d been quietly liquidating most of Rasheed’s assets. All of the cars minus the S-class Benz were sold; I’d given that to Ris since she always admired it. I’d sold the Hot Spot, the house, anything that ever connected Rasheed’s life to mine was gone. I called to check on Ris.

  “Hey, Chelly Bean.”

  “Hey, baby. How is our li’l princess?” I was referring to Lataya, Trenisha’s daughter. Trenisha was only given a 10 percent chance at surviving and was pretty much being kept alive by the machines they had her hooked up to. The primary options for her daughter were to go to her grandmother, who wanted nothing to do with the baby, a foster home, or stay here with us since, after all, Ris was still her family. I’d always wanted another child, and since we were st
arting our lives together, Larissa surprised me when she was the one who said it was only fair that we give the product of all our sins a better chance at life.

  “She’s finally ’sleep! I don’t know how you did this shit, I don’t think I’m cut out to be a momma. It’s kickin’ my ass.” She sounded dead tired and my heart went out to her. When I was going through that stage with Trey, Rah was in the club almost every night and it felt like I was always tired, always alone, and at the mercy of Trey’s temperament.

  “Aww, baby, you’re doin’ fine. I swear all new mommas go through it. You’re getting better at it, I promise.”

  “Yeah, but all new mommas don’t have babies who can’t stand they asses. I jus’ know that li’l heffa saves all the poops, fusses, an’ messes for me!” Ris was dead certain the baby couldn’t stand her because she’d cry and fuss the entire time she was with her. It was the exact opposite with me; she’d coo and make all the wonderful baby sounds that I remembered enjoying with Trey and then she’d be off to sleep. I saw so much of Rah when I looked at her little face: his defiant sharp chin, and narrow nose. She was exactly my complexion and so chubby with kissable fat rolls everywhere, I called her my Michelin Tire baby. It was easy adjusting to her in the house since Ris was pretty much a stay-at-home mommy. I’d even jokingly started calling her my baby momma.

  “I’ll be home in a little bit. I’ve got something for you. Maybe it’ll make you feel better.”