by Natavia
“You better remember it!” she hollered into the phone.
“You just want to suck that nigga off that called your phone that night. I’m on my way home now,” I said to her.
“You was probably fucking,” she said.
“You don’t want me,” I said chuckling.
“I don’t trust you yet,” she said.
“We don’t trust each other yet. What nigga you got living with my son? That’s fucked up that I don’t know where my son lives, Tassana,” I said to her.
“I know you. You will be popping up on me, starting your mess,” she said.
“So what, that’s what I do. You want me to change, but you ain’t changing neither. I don’t have your address, I don’t have your house number, then you got some nigga calling your phone too damn late at night. I’m not trying to hear shit. Everything is good when we fucking though. Soon as your dumb ass goes home you be talking shit,” I said to her. Me cheating on her with Kyree is starting to become old. I don’t talk to Kyree anymore and Tassana is still tripping. I’m at the point where I’m ready to start doing me. I still love her, but me chasing a woman around and not getting anywhere isn’t my thing, and will never be my thing, so, if she wants to keep up this charade she got going on, she can do it by herself.
“How long will you be?” she asked.
“I think I will just pick him up from your crib,” I said to her.
“Nigga, I just drove an hour down here,” Tassana fussed.
“Well, drive a damn hour back, I will be there,” I said to her.
“Fuck it, I’m not arguing with you,” Tassana said hanging up on me. I kept Tassana on the phone long enough to keep her in my neighborhood. I parked in the cut to wait for her to leave out. When she left my community I followed her. I made sure I stayed just far enough behind Tassana, so she wouldn’t realize it was me. She wasn’t lying when she said she lived far away. With the traffic it took an hour and a half to get to her home. She lived in a four-level town home with two garages. She got back a lot of money from her parents dying. I know she bought her truck and home with the money. No matter how much Tassana is changing her ways, she will always like the finer things in life.
She was on her phone talking and smiling, as she opened up the back door to get our son’s carrier out of the backseat. She slammed her truck door in frustration. I waited until she walked into the house to call her. “What the fuck do you want?” she spat.
“Who was you talking to on the phone?” I asked her.
“I wasn’t talking to nobody,” she lied.
“Why was you blushing then?” I asked her.
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
“But I’m saying though, shorty. You was just rapping to a nigga on the phone. I know a female ain’t making you blush like that,” I said, getting out of my truck.
“I’m not for your mess,” she said.
“Why are you lying, Tassana?” I asked her, walking up her driveway. I rang the doorbell. “So, what the nigga coming over?” I asked her.
“I don’t know who that is,” she said.
“I don’t believe that, shorty. You fucking around on me, huh?” I asked her.
The door flew open. Tassana’s phone dropped when she covered her mouth. I stepped into her home and the smell of cinnamon hit me. She will never know how much I missed that scent.
“You are seriously crazy. You did that so you could follow me?” she asked. I ignored her taking my son out of his carrier.
“Show me around, this is a nice crib,” I said to her. She stormed off down the hallway with her big ass moving side to side. She had on jogging pants and a hoodie. She must have been working out before she came to Annapolis.
“When are you going to stop doing those squats?” I asked, following her into the kitchen. She opened up the fridge grabbing a bottle of wine. “I’m not going to stop,” she said to me.
O.J. was asleep in my arms. I kissed his forehead waking him up. “Damn it, Osari. He cried the whole ride here,” she fussed.
“He missed his daddy. Why are we doing this, Tassana?” I asked her.
“I don’t trust you,” she spat.
“But we still be fucking. You giving a nigga mixed signals. When you and I are together it’s just us. You don’t bring nothing else up, but as soon as you leave my crib that’s when you want to talk about shit, so let’s talk now, face to face. Let’s put everything out on the table,” I said to her. She poured her wine into her glass then gulped it down.
“Okay, fine. I’m still mad that you was fucking with Kyree. I’m mad that you was spending time with her after I came home from the hospital. I was still sore from being shot and giving birth. Where were you? You lied and said you was handling your business, but in all reality Kyree seemed more important than me. I get that I’m far from perfect, hell, everybody and their mama knows I was a heartless, shiesty bitch, but you gave me the impression that you loved me,” she said.
“Shorty, I’m not going to pretend that I wasn’t doing shit because I was. I don’t have a reason why I did it. I was just thinking about fucking a bad lil’ broad, but I do love you. You got me following you home and shit. Kyree and I are done,” I said to her. I might’ve been sounding like a chump, punk, or even a mushy nigga, but I wanted my shorty back.
“Since we are being honest, where were you tonight? Why weren’t you answering the phone?” she asked. I shook my head because I knew I had to tell the truth. I could lie about it, but everybody in the hood talks. Tassana was going to hear it from somebody eventually, I’d rather tell her myself.
“I was trying to get my dick sucked,” I said to her. Her eyes cut into me before she let out a deep breath then poured herself another glass of wine.
“You was trying to get your dick sucked?” she asked.
“Yeah, this lil’ broad kept texting me and calling me talking shit, so I ended up over her crib where she tried to suck my dick. She wasn’t sucking it right, so I bounced,” I told her. I wanted to tell the biggest lie, but a nigga like me can’t lie too long.
“What’s her name?” Tassana asked me.
“Mya,” I said to her.
“Big-butt, brick-house shaped, Mya?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said.
“So, you are one of those. You the type of nigga that would fuck his home life up just for a pretty broad and a phat ass. Fuck your woman and how she feels, as long as you are getting your dick wet from a bad bitch, it’s justifiable?” Tassana asked me calmly. “What is the issue? Is it because I’m brown-skinned with a short haircut? My stomach ain’t flat enough? I’m not shaped like a video vixen? What the fuck is it?” she yelled at me.
“You sound stupid. If I wasn’t attracted to you I wouldn’t have wanted you in the first place. What nigga you know that doesn’t want to fuck a bad broad? Do I go looking for them? Hell no, the shit just happened. I only cheated on you with one broad. You and I aren’t together, so I’m not explaining myself for the other one. You asked me a question and I answered it. What you want me to do, be faithful to a woman who ain’t rocking with me like that?” I asked her.
“So, I can go around fucking because a nigga wants to talk to me? A nigga that looks good with a nice body, a nice ride, and a long dick with a long cash flow to match it?” she asked me.
“See, now you pushing my buttons, shorty. But how about this. You find a nigga like that and bring him around my son, the nigga is going to be unrecognizable, chopped up in his burnt whip, and broke. You want to know why? Because that nigga will be dead. So what he had before he can’t take to his grave with him,” I stated. Tassana stormed out of the kitchen into the living room.
I fixed O.J. a cereal bottle because it was getting late. Afterwards I bathed him then put his pajamas on. I laid him down in his crib then grabbed the baby monitor Tassana had on his dresser. She didn’t come upstairs to show me around, I had to figure it out. I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings, but I’m a selfish nigga.
I have always been that way. I’m not sharing shit, including my son’s mother. Her body carried my son. A nigga touching her is a violation because I feel like he is violating the place where my son was created. Call a nigga crazy, but I’m serious.
“I’m out,” I said walking towards her door.
“Sit your ass down,” she said, pulling me away from the door. I wasn’t surprised. Tassana used to hate when a nigga left. Even when I first met her and had her staying in the hotel room, she never wanted me to walk out of the door. That’s when I first started feeling her.
I know some niggas act like they don’t want a clingy woman, and all the other females I have ever dealt with never acted that way. They all knew I didn’t play that shit and I didn’t, but when Tassana came along she didn’t care how much I disliked it, she acted like that anyway. She always wanted a nigga to kiss her, spend time with her, and all of that mushy shit. I used to just give her money and leave her in the hotel room by herself while I continued to do me. I knew she caught feelings for me then, but I was still strung up on the fact that she was easy and a gold digger.
“Now, you want me to stay, huh?” I asked, lifting her chin up. She looked me in the eyes.
“Yes, I want you to stay,” she said. I took my hoody and shirt off, kicked off my shoes then followed her to the living room. She laid her head in my lap while she changed the TV.
“What are you fixing us for dinner?” she asked.
“Yo, you serious?” I asked her.
“Yeah, you cook better than me. I have some chicken thawed out in the fridge. I’m thinking fried potatoes and cheese broccoli with it,” she said.
“You use me for my dick, tongue, and now my cooking? I hope you sucking the skin off my dick tonight,” I said, pushing her head up.
She playfully mushed me. “Why are you always a jackass?” she asked me.
I waved her off then headed to her kitchen. She followed me inside to get the things out for me to cook with. Moments later Tassana was rubbing on my abs from behind me. “What your short ass trying to do back there?” I asked her. She started giggling then all of a sudden I felt something cold and wet going down my ass cheek. I turned around then mushed her. She went falling back into the refrigerator, laughing.
“Yo, you put ice in my briefs? Don’t try that gay shit no more. I almost hit your ass with this frying pan. I didn’t know what that shit was,” I said. Tassana was on the kitchen floor laughing with tears coming out of her eyes.
“I can’t breathe,” she said laughing, holding her stomach.
“That shit ain’t funny. You got me standing here cooking with an ice cube trying to slide down my ass crack. Man, if that shit ain’t gay I don’t know what is,” I said to her.
“Aww, come here, baby,” she said, trying to pull my face down to hers. She puckered her full lips out, wanting me to kiss her.
“I ain’t fucking with you,” I said to her.
“Give me a kiss, Osari,” she said. I wrapped my arms around her hips, letting her kiss me. I picked her up by her ass then sat her down on the counter. I grabbed her by the neck gently then started kissing on her. She pulled me closer to her as she moaned. I pulled away from her. “Get out of the kitchen while I do my thing,” I said. My cell phone rang, “Go ahead, shorty, I know your nosey ass wants to talk,” I said, giving her the go-ahead to answer my phone. She snatched my phone then walked down the hallway. I could tell by her tone and giggles that she was talking to my mother.
After dinner I laid across the couch. Tassana came down the stairs after checking up on O.J. She laid underneath me, kissing my chin. “Would you have more kids?” Tassana asked me. I hurriedly sat up.
“You pregnant?” I asked her.
“No, idiot. Damn, can we ever just talk?” she asked.
“That’s not something a nigga wants to talk about, especially when he got a son that’s still an infant. Damn, you knocked up aren’t you?” I asked her.
“No. I’m on birth control. I just wanted to know in the future if you wanted more,” she said.
“Only woman birthing my kids will be you. I’m not trying to have a lot of baby mamas. I saw a lot of my niggas go through that. I haven’t thought about having more, but if it happens, there isn’t shit we could do about that,” I answered her.
“What was my mother talking about?” I asked Tassana.
“Who said it was your mother?” she asked me.
“There you go starting shit again,” I said.
“You better not hurt me again, Osari. I mean that shit too. If you do, I promise you that I’m not coming back. If there is something I need to know about, you tell me now,” Tassana said to me.
“You know everything about me,” I lied. I know I said I couldn’t lie, but what I didn’t want her to know would go to my grave. What I had going on is something any woman wouldn’t want to put up with. As bad as I wanted to tell her I couldn’t. She would never look at me the same.
Dez
I didn’t want to hurt Shimmy and I didn’t mean to yell at her that way. A nigga was stressed out. Hustling, going to school, and being a single father isn’t easy. I had a feeling Rayshawn was my son, but I didn’t think it would turn out like this. Kiwanna is using him to hurt me. When I was messing around with her she wasn’t trashy like that, then again maybe she was, but I was young and just wanted to fuck. I’d been sleeping with her since I was sixteen years old. I was blind to the bullshit at first, but I wasn’t anymore.
When I got out of school, I went to my grandmother’s house to pick up my son. My grandmother is only fifty years old, she had my mother at the age of eighteen. I guess being young parents runs in the family. After I parked, I got out of the car. A few kids were playing jump rope in the street. My grandmother lived in a neighborhood with a little violence, but not as much as the one I lived in.
“What’s up, Uncle Speedy,” I said to him, walking up the steps. We called him Speedy because he moved fast in his wheelchair. He didn’t have any legs. He had got them both amputated years ago because of his diabetes. Nobody in the family wanted to take him, but my grandmother did, feeling sorry for him. Speedy is my grandmother’s brother, he is only forty years old.
“What’s going on, nephew? You getting tall, aren’t you?” he asked me.
“Yeah, I got a little height on me. What are you doing sitting out here by the steps?” I asked him, pushing his wheelchair back. My grandmother came out on the porch holding my son. I kissed her cheek. “How much you need?” I asked her, ready to pay her for watching Rayshawn. My grandmother looked like an older version of my mother.
“Dez, don’t offend me. What do I look like taking money from my grandchild? I don’t mind watching him. I think you two should move here, the basement is big enough. There’s two bedrooms down there and they just finished putting a brand new kitchen down there and a bathroom. All I ask is that you keep those damn hoodlums and hood possums away from my house,” my grandmother said to me.
“It’s hood rats, Nana,” I said laughing.
“All rodents. Now, where is your hot-in-the-ass mama at? Claims she is so busy doing nothing. All she does is sit on them steps, getting high and scoping out ballers. I’m surprised she can walk, she sits so damn much. I been told Desiree that she needed to get a job and raise you right. It hurts me to my heart that she tossed you out in the streets to benefit her love for money. That little tramp bitch makes me sick. I don’t know what happened to my daughter,” Nana fussed.
“Come on, Nana, that’s still my mama,” I said defending my mother.
“When she starts acting like yo’ mama I will treat her like yo’ mama,” Nana said. Rayshawn reached for me, I picked him up.
“What’s up, lil’man?” I asked, tickling his stomach. Maybe moving in with my grandma would be better for me. I’d done a lot of dirt in my neighborhood. I don’t even feel right knowing I probably had sex with all the females and Shimmy knows just about all of them.
“Where that devil-
eyed cousin of yours at?” Nana asked about Osari.
“He in the crib with his son. His mother had to go to work,” I replied.
“Who in the hell had a baby by him? He can be sweet as pie, but that lil’ boy have some serious issues. Tell him come by and see me. I want to see his little boy,” Nana said. The ice cream truck came up the street and the kids started chasing after it. My uncle is like a big kid, he waits for the ice-cream truck too.
“There he goes. He been taking all damn day,” Uncle Speedy fussed. He took the brakes off of his wheelchair and went sailing down the steps.
“Got damn it, this muthafucka’ still don’t know how to use the ramp,” Nana fussed. After I kicked it with Nana and my uncle, I headed towards Shimmy’s job. I knew what time she got off from work. I sat in my car and waited for her while Rayshawn made noises in the back. When she walked out, she rolled her eyes at me. “Come here, shorty,” I said, stepping out of the car. I was parked next to her car, so she wouldn’t have a choice but to talk to me.
“What do you want, Dez?” she asked me. Shimmy opened up my back door, unbuckling my son from his seat belt, when she heard him making noises. As she picked him up, I eyed her mysteriously. Shimmy was crazy especially when you made her mad. She was cool as long as you didn’t press her buttons.