Baby Momma Saga, Part 2

by Ni'chelle Genovese

  Genesis didn’t come across as the type of man who would feel ashamed about anything, though. I flagged Tangie down during her coffee refill.

  “Do you know where Mr. Kane is?” I asked her in as nonchalant of a voice as I could manage.

  “Not sure; the boss doesn’t have to let anyone know if he’s going to come into work,” was her snippy reply. She softened it up a little when she saw the disheartened look on my face. “He probably has a bug or a meeting. I heard his voice mail in his office replaying messages. He normally calls and checks it when he’s out and about working.”

  “I see.” I tried to think of a quick lie to throw her off. I was too new to be checking for the boss like that. “He’d mentioned Farrah was coming by, and now I feel stupid for dressing up for the occasion.”

  Even though I was irritated, I’d dressed up just for him. Now I was irritated at him missing the chance to see me all dressed up.

  “Well, if it’ll make you feel special, you can entertain the auditor I’m expecting to arrive any minute now. I need to go make sure we shredded everything.”

  My eyebrows flew up at that.

  Tangie cackled an old witchy sounding cackle. “Just messin’ with you, baby girl. I’m going to touch up my lipstick. If it’s the same auditor we had last time, I need all this,” she ran her hands dramatically over her hips, “to be correct. The sight of that nucka’ sent my menopause into remission.”

  Tangie tipped away in her leopard print pumps, wiggling and giggling to herself. What in the world did she expect me to do to entertain this so-called auditor? What if he started asking questions, I was the wrong person for that considering the inside knowledge I had concerning Gen’s finances.

  “Hello?” someone called out from the small lobby at the front. Metro-Bobby popped up to escort her in. He came back moments later with a woman dressed like Agent Scully. She peered down at me over her glasses when they stopped in front of my desk.

  “This is Novie. She’ll be assisting you until the office manager Tangie is available,” he announced, before going back to his desk.

  “Hi, Novie.” She said my name with so much attitude in her voice I did a double take.

  Her hair was slicked back into a tight curly ponytail hanging halfway down her back. I couldn’t place her face or her voice until I saw the rounded bump under the front of her suit jacket. My breath caught in my throat.

  “Tinesha?” I asked in an unsure voice.

  A slow smile spread across her face; it looked the same way the Grinch looked when he stole Christmas.

  “The one and only. It seems like our world keeps gettin’ smaller and smaller,” she replied in a fake polite voice.

  Lord, this can’t be real. This has to be some kind of joke or some shit.

  She eased down into the empty chair in front of my desk. Gone were the purple sprig-a-sprags and all the ignance, yes, ignance that she normally showed up with. Tinesha must’ve gotten a Ph.D. in chameleon business and life tactics. She had whoever had given her a real job completely fooled, because I’d seen how foolish she could get.

  She looked around the office with her nose turned up, taking inventory and making assessments on the worth and value of everything Genesis had.

  “So, this is where your nigga-thieving ass works?” she asked as she looked over the Bobbys who were all busy with trying to look busy. They weren’t even fooling me.

  When she was done with her visual assessment, she settled back in the chair and folded her hands in her lap. “I didn’t take you for the type to hold down a real job. I figured you were more like a professional side chick.”

  This bitch has some nerve callin’ me a side chick with all the dirt she has piled up in her yard.

  I smiled at her so hard my cheeks burned. “Funny, and I was just thinking the same thing about—”

  “Did you know, Novie, that when the IRS audits a business, we’re just looking for hidden assets, misreported earnings, and fraud.”

  Oh no, this heffa is not going for the jugular and not on some play shit. Genesis’s business doesn’t have anything to do with the beef she has with me.

  “All I need is one teeny-tiny mistake, and, by law, I have to make an adverse opinion.” Her words sounded more like a threat than an explanation.

  I prayed that Genesis had all of his shit in order. Swiss had said she didn’t know about his dealings with Genesis. But if even one number didn’t line up with another, I don’t think she’d need to know anything about it. She’d raise enough hell in her own way.

  The plush leather desk chair I was sitting in might as well have been a stack of heated cement blocks. I shifted uncomfortably. I had no idea exactly what an adverse opinion meant, but it sounded like something that would hurt Genesis more than it would hurt me.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  Her top lip scrunched up toward her nose. She squinted at me through the lens of her glasses.

  “Well, for starters, I want you to keep your damn mouth shut. You say a word to Swiss about Javion, and I’ll make sure I find something to shut this bitch down.”

  Shit, it’s way too late for that one. Hopefully, I could catch Swiss before he opened his fat mouth and told her anything I’d said.

  “Second,” she continued in a hushed voice, “I want to know where the fuck Javion is. The last time I talked to him, he said he was leaving with a bitch named Novie De-la-di-da. His phone is going straight to voice mail, and you’re still here, so . . .?”

  “So what if I don’t know where Javion is? What if I haven’t seen him since the day you stomped him down outside of his car?” It wasn’t a lie . . . Well, half of what I’d said wasn’t a lie. Last time I’d seen Javion, he was dead. It never crossed my mind to ask Genesis or Swiss what happened to the body or the cover story for the body.

  “Then you’d better track him down, or the IRS will make your life hell. People get audited all the time; they go to prison for tax evasion. Have you filed all of your prior year returns? Oh, wait, it doesn’t matter. They will disappear if I need them to.”

  Tangie might be mean as hell, but I can say one thing . . . Tangie is no parts gangsta. On any given day, she kept the whole building on lockdown, and now her old rusty hind part’s MIA when I need her to come to my rescue.

  Tinesha wasn’t done. “If Javion reaches out to you, make sure you reach out to me. I’ll be in touch. And so you know how serious this is, I’ve already seen a glitch in Mr. Genesis Kane’s information, and you are the deciding factor in what I do with that.”

  Tinesha wasn’t even all the way out of the office before I started blowing up Gen’s phone. He wasn’t answering any of my calls or the texts I’d sent. Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong.

  * * *

  After my visit with Tinesha, I was in panic mode. Initially, Tangie wasn’t too enthusiastic about letting me leave early. Her mind changed real quick as soon as the word flu came out of my mouth. She shooed me out of the office in a lemon-scented cloud of Lysol, mumbling about a flu epidemic. I needed to get in contact with Genesis before Tinesha did something stupid. Hopefully, he’d be able to give me an idea of what I could tell her to throw her off. It would be nice if I knew what the fuck she’d found, though.

  I’d started to make my way to Gen’s loft, but Shandy and Heather’s tip about this “mystery house” kept running through my mind. He’d never mentioned another house. It made me wonder if he lived there with some kind of secret family. If he was home, he could be gone by the time I left the loft and fought traffic to get out of the city. My best bet was to head out of the city first and work my way back in.

  An hour later, I was standing in one of the richest neighborhoods in the city with my heels glued to the rust-colored cobblestones underneath ’em. I’d parked a few blocks away so I could take a minute to get my mind right without having my car spotted. Since I wasn’t supposed to know about Gen’s place out here, I didn’t want to risk him recognizing my car and not
answering the door.

  All the gusto I’d felt earlier shrank away as I stared at houses lined up as high as mountains. Each one bigger and badder than the next, like I’d stepped into my own episode of Real Housewives. Even the sidewalks looked expensive as hell with cobblestones instead of cement and fancy silver lamps lining the streets. Their tiny flames flickered, getting brighter as the sun started to set. I definitely wasn’t in Norfolk, Virginia, anymore. But that was the last place I wanted to be anyway.

  My insides were shaking like Jell-O shots at a sorority party. It didn’t make sense for me to be feeling this kind of nervousness mixed with anger. But considering how many times we’d been together, Genesis had only taken me to his loft once or twice. Yes, that’s it. Shit, and even then, it was late as hell, and I was too damn tipsy and too busy trying to get some ass to take in the details. He’d never felt the need to mention his house.

  This was all Shandy’s and Heather’s fault. If they hadn’t run his name through the system, I wouldn’t have been dying to figure out why he had so many addresses. And since he wasn’t at the office or taking my calls, this felt like my only option. What was he hiding? Nobody hides something like a house unless they’ve got somebody up in that bitch.

  I shook my head at myself and took a shaky pull from my stress Newport, twisting my lips as I exhaled so the smoke would blow into the wind. I should’ve borrowed one of Shandy’s wigs, just in case he was outside and I chickened out; then, I could make a quick escape unnoticed.

  I dropped my half-smoked cigarette, crushing it under my heel as I marched toward my man’s house. The oversized gift bag I’d made for him was balanced in the nook of my arm as I dug through my much-hated purse. I had this thing down pat. Sanitize the hands, follow it up with the fresh lotion, and pop a stick of gum. It all must’ve worked, because not once did anyone ever complain.

  I stopped in front of the address I’d memorized forward and backward. There were a few lights on inside, but I couldn’t tell if he was home. My fingers locked around the handles of the gift bag in a sweaty grip as I marched up the circular driveway toward the Swiss archway of the front door. Now, we’d finally see about Genesis and this so-called flu bug. In my defense, it was only right that I check in to make sure he was really suffering . . . and really alone.

  My plan was to peek in, and if all looked good, I’d just make that ass some chicken soup and hot toddies until he was too full and drunk to complain. Yes, this was probably all parts of wrong depending on how you looked at it, but he was my man, and as Genesis liked to say, if it ain’t sneaky, it ain’t freaky.

  I propped my ear toward the door listening for the TV, or movement, or some bitch whose ass I’d have to whoop in case he was, after all, lying about everything. It was dead silent. Girl, if this ain’t the craziest shit you’ve ever done.

  After a few quick glances up and down the street, I pressed the doorbell. It let out a deep, loud dong, like a church bell. You are wrong for this; he’s probably sick as a dog, and you done popped yo’ ass up over here. Mmmph, mmmph, mmph. Bet not get me sick, I know that much. I held my breath, praying he’d appreciate this and not be mad. That he wasn’t laid up with another bitch, cheating.

  The sound of the lock turning sent my heart slamming into my chest. The door opened slow as all hell. Yo, my nerves and the excitement had me hopping from foot to foot, running in place like a jogger on a street corner. As soon as there was a gap big enough for me to fit through, I slid in without invitation, smelling and looking at everything I could see from the front door. It was warm cinnamon and apples, black forest oak wood flooring, and from what I could see, bulky, masculine furniture.

  Genesis was standing to the side, one hand still on the door handle with the other holding up the New York Times. His face was plastered to the paper as he focused on whatever he was reading. He was wearing a long red robe like the ones boxers wear before they step into the ring. The hood hung low over his head, nearly covering his eyes. I tried to hone in on his face under the shadowy hood. The corners of his mouth were turned down in an ugly frown. I knew that look. It meant something was wrong; either he’d lost money on his retirement account, or a stock had dropped. There was no telling with him, but whatever it was, he wasn’t going to be in a good mood behind it.

  Suddenly, I realized how stupid this whole idea was. I should have at least called first. Now, here I was, uninvited and invading his space. My eyes shot around the foyer, looking for a place to hide while I tried to figure out if I could run my grown ass back out the door before he saw me.

  “Where’s your key, baby?” Genesis murmured in a low, distracted voice. “Guess you changed your mind about going to the—”

  He looked up from his paper with confusion flashing across his face as we locked eyes.

  My face scrunched into a wince, smile, and a cringe at being caught red-handed snoop-checking up on my man.

  “Hey, you,” I whispered back.

  “Novie? How did you know where to find me?” he asked, sliding the hood of his robe back off his head. This made the front of the robe fall open, showing off the grey and black tattoos covering his smooth brown skin from his collarbone on down.

  I stared up at him, momentarily speechless. That’s how it felt when I saw him after any kind of hiatus. Our silent stare down came to a stop when his words finally registered in my brain. Wait, did he say “baby” when he didn’t even know I was at the door?

  All of the love, care, and attention I’d put into his gift bag was out the window. I let his gift bag hit the floor.

  I marched right at him shooting electric sparks from my eyes. My index finger was already raised in accusation.

  “Who were you calling baby if you didn’t know it was me?” My voice was surprisingly calm, even to me, as my finger made invisible quotation marks in the air. “And what . . . What did she forget? Humph, I know how y’all DC niggas do. Is it even a she? I know for damn sure the word key won’t about to come up outta your mouth,” I snapped with my voice going up three octaves.

  I was so pissed I could feel the pistivity rising up off of me like heat waves.

  Genesis snapped the newspaper he’d been holding shut, methodically folding it in half before tucking it under his arm. He was probably trying to bide his time while he worked up a lie.

  He let out an irritated sigh. “Are you done?” he asked calmly.

  My eyes narrowed on him like a target. No, this nigga did not have the nerve to look and sound perfectly healthy.

  “Kane!” An irritated woman’s voice ricocheted through the house. “Kane? If that’s my pizza, check and make sure it got extra sauce on it. Last time it was burnt and there wasn’t no sauce,” she screeched from somewhere upstairs.

  My eyes widened and my head went on swivel. I looked from Genesis to the stairs and back. Shit, hopefully, I’d give myself whiplash so I could sue his ass. I ain’t know exactly where that ho was, but she was about to catch it. I know this nigga ain’t got another bitch up in here. I closed my eyes trying to find the words that would drop a man dead. He must have seen what was coming.

  Genesis shook his head at me. “Calm down, Novie. There’s a logical explanation for all of this.”

  “Psht,” I hissed at him. “Logical, my ass.” At this point even his calm demeanor was pissing me off. “You must logically think I’m an idiot.”

  “Kane? I’m gonna drink the last Naked juice. I don’t feel like driving to get ginger ale . . .” her voice trailed off.

  My gaze shifted slowly from Genesis’s blank face up the winding staircase. They stopped dead center on this light-bright heffa standing on the balcony. She was wearing a black boxing robe similar to his, and it didn’t look like much else underneath it. My blood ran so hot I got a headache and started sweating, all while picturing my hands around her throat.

  “Dang,” she talked like she didn’t have a care in the world. “Why didn’t you say you were having company? I hope you ordered enough pizza for eve
rybody, because I ain’t sharing my shit.” With that, she turned and walked off.

  My jaw dropped. I launched myself toward the stairs with tears blurring my vision. This couldn’t be happening. Genesis’s arms snaked around my waist, yanking me back against his chest. He became a human straitjacket, wrapping his arms around mine, pinning them to my heaving chest.

  “Let go of me! You smell like you been fuckin’. Got that bitch’s scent all over you. I swear on my life I’ll—”

  “You swear what?” Genesis barked down at the top of my head.

  I was let go for the quickest second before his fingers dug into my shoulders. He whirled me around to face him. I was eye to eye with the tattoo of a sugar skull painted over a woman’s face. She was beautiful and eerie at the same time. In the beginning, I didn’t really think about it when he said sugar skulls honored someone who’s passed. But the fact that he wouldn’t tell me about this woman who meant so much to him he’d put her face on his body starting making me jealous little by little.

  I refused to look up at him. I didn’t want him to see my tears or how much he’d hurt me. My jaw was clenched so hard my teeth hurt as I settled in for a staring contest with his tattooed lady. She stared out at me from the middle of his chest; her empty eyes laughed at me.

  “Well?” Genesis asked quietly.

  My nose was running, and I couldn’t remember the question.

  He used the sleeve of his robe to dry my face, and he even wiped my nose.

  “Novie, you might as well come on in, sit down, and have a drink with me. I was trying to wait for the best time to talk to you. There are a few things I was scared to tell you about myself... about my life.”