The Ex Factor: A Novel

by Whitaker, Tu-Shonda

  Monica didn't say a word; she simply looked out the window as Sharief started to drive.

  “Hey,” Jamal said, “I got a question and being that we all family and everything, I wanna know something. What y'all gon' call the baby: Li'l Bruh or Li'l Cuz?”

  “Shut up, Jamal!” Monica said. “Just shut right up!”

  (Starr)

  “BUTTAH.” STARR TOOK a deep breath while frying chicken. “I need me some damn weed.”

  “Well, you sure can't get none of mine,” Mama Byrd snapped. “Anybody seen my porta-potty, my stomach is rumblin'.”

  “It's in the bathroom where it needs to be,” Buttah snapped.

  “Who the hell is you? Is you the ho that stole my husband?”

  “Mama Byrd, please,” Buttah said.

  “Oh yeah, you the bitch that tried to say them ugly-ass kids you got was my knee-baby-boy Jimmy's. I believe you worked roots on him.”

  “I didn't work roots on Jimmy!” Buttah screamed. “Jimmy loved me! And De-niece and De-nephew are his kids!”

  “Buttah,” Starr said, “why do you always argue the same damn thing with Mama Byrd? Give it up, girl. Please, we know De-niece and De-cousin—”

  “De-nephew,” Mama Byrd corrected.

  “Yeah,” Starr said, “De-niece and De-nephew are Jimmy's kids.”

  “You're right, Starr. She just gets under my skin.”

  “Ain't nothin' got under yo' skin,” Mama Byrd said, “but three hundred and fifteen pounds of Oreos, Crunchy Cheez Doodles, and chocolate cakes.”

  “Be quiet, Mama Byrd!” Buttah screamed. “Now, what's on your mind, Starr, why you need some weed?”

  “Buttah,” Starr sighed, “all my girls have gone crazy and I never thought I would say this, but Imani seems to be the one with the most sense.”

  “Well, have you talked to Monica and Celeste?”

  “No I have not,” she said matter-of-factly, “I just can't bring myself to do that. I can't get over Celeste using her children as pawns to ruin this bullshit Monica and Sharief got going on. And now she's God knows where doing God knows what. She pressed charges on the man. Cried to me about how he beat her, and now she never shows up in court. What that look like—”

  “Some bullshit,” Mama Byrd said, “straight-up-and-down bull-shit.”

  “Exactly,” Starr agreed. “And Monica, oh my God, Lawd Jesus how do you lay up with your sister's husband? I can't even lie, I wanted to beat her ass! Had it been my man, I woulda tore this motherfucker up!”

  “You and me both!” Mama Byrd yelled as she walked toward the bathroom to grab her porta-potty.

  “And I got a new grandbaby, you know.” Starr felt tears coming to her eyes. “He's almost a month old and I haven't seen him. I mean I saw him at the hospital but I couldn't hold him and give him that Nana-love-you talk. And Monica ain't never had no baby before. Buttah, what she know about a baby?”

  “Nothin',” Mama Byrd yelled from the half-bath next to the kitchen. “I betchu she know who the daddy is, though.”

  “Well, Starr, you need to go and talk to her,” Buttah said, ignoring Mama Byrd. “Hold your grandbaby and let Monica know how hurt and disappointed you are, but you need to say something to her. She still is your child.”

  (Monica)

  FOR THE PAST month Monica had walked around carrying her newborn in her arms. His days and nights were completely mixed up, and Monica felt like she hadn't been to sleep in weeks. Heavy bags rested under her eyes and her once curly Afro was now frayed and tangled.

  “Hand him here,” Sharief said, reaching for the baby. For once he was sober. “Let me hold him for a while. Go upstairs and get some sleep and maybe tomorrow, since it's Friday, you should hang out with Listra, leave Jeremiah here with me and the girls while you go getcha groove on.”

  Monica looked at Sharief and laughed. “Yeah right, and I'll come back and meet my damn house in an uproar.”

  “No you won't, baby. I'm trying to do better. I know it's hard with me not working yet and you being out on maternity leave but we'll make it. The last couple of times Celeste hasn't shown up for court. The judge said if she doesn't show up at the next hearing he'll dismiss the charges.”

  “Sharief, I want you to stop drinking. I'm concerned.”

  “About what?” he asked. “You're the one that goes overboard, all I do is have a beer or two.”

  “But Sharief, you drink until you get drunk. And there was a time when you didn't drink at all.”

  “Listen, don't stress me. I don't have a job right now, I have a woman and four kids but I can't contribute shit to the household. How do you think it makes me feel to see bills come up in here late and to hear you arguing with bill collectors trying to make arrangements? Hell, Monica, I have a brand-new baby, the son I always wanted, and I haven't been able to give him shit, nothing.”

  “Sharief—you still don't have to drink so much.”

  “Monica, I'm good. With the shit I got going on, I need me a drink right now. And I would like to spend some time with my son.”

  Monica handed him the baby and watched Sharief place Jeremiah on his shoulder. Immediately Jeremiah started crying. “Sharief, give him back,” Monica said, holding her hands out.

  “No,” he said sternly, “I'm his father and he needs to get to know me. All you do is carry him around. Your tittie stays in his mouth enough. It's time for him to share the wealth.” Sharief slapped Monica on the ass. “He'll be okay, Monica.”

  She did her best to swallow what Sharief said and walked upstairs. She washed her hair, took a bath, and ended up falling asleep in the tub, only to wake up to Jeremiah screaming at the top of his lungs. She jumped out the tub, wrapped a towel around her, and ran down the stairs. When she looked to see what was wrong with her baby, Kai had him laying faceup on her lap while she tried to feed him with her baby doll's plastic bottle. Monica rushed toward Kai and took the baby from her; instantly he stopped crying. She looked around the room for Sharief and spotted him lying on the floor asleep, with a beer next to him. Monica kicked him in the shin as hard as she could.

  “What the hell is wrong with you, Monica?” Sharief screamed.

  “Kai had my fuckin' baby! And yo' ass lyin' up in here sleep! She could've dropped him!”

  “I wasn't even sleep.” He got off the floor and wiped the sides of his mouth. He took a swig of beer. “I was watching Kayla the whole time.”

  “Stop fucking lying!” Monica snatched Jeremiah's bottle off the table. “Kayla didn't even have the baby, it was Kai!” She stormed up the stairs and yelled over her shoulder, “Stupid motherfucker!”

  “I ain't gon' be too many more ma'fuckers. And I'm gettin' a little tired of you cussin' me out!” Sharief said, following Monica up the stairs.

  “Then leave!” She got to her bedroom and spun around in the doorway. “Get the fuck out my face and leave me and my child the hell alone!”

  “Leave?” Sharief was stunned. “Oh, that's what this is about. You got your baby now, so I can step?”

  “And take your grown-ass kids with you!” Monica stepped into her bedroom so she could change the baby's Pamper and place him in his crib.

  “Well guess what?” Sharief snarled. “I ain't goin' no fuckin' where. Didn't we fight for this? You gon' see me when you go to sleep and when you wake up. You wanted me, now here the fuck I am.”

  “I can't do this anymore,” Monica said with tears in her eyes. “I'm broke, I can't be alone with my baby, my house is always nasty, Kayla is tooooo fuckin' grown, and you are an alcoholic.”

  “You don't give me no pussy, what you expect me to do!”

  “Pussy? As much as you fuckin' drink your dick can't get hard. Plus, I just had a baby. I ain't fuckin' you.”

  “Monica, you used to give me head just because I sat next to you, now I can't even get you to look at my dick.”

  She squinted her eyes tight. “I wish I would suck your li'l nasty dick. Fuck you!”

  “Oh God!” Kayla
yelled as she slammed her door. “We didn't have to break up our family for this! We could've stayed home! Shut up!”

  “You see?” Monica pointed to the door. “You see? Too fuckin' grown. You better go catch her before I slap the shit out of her again.”

  “Don't put your hands on my child!” Sharief said, walking out toward Kayla's room. “You better not touch her!”

  … … …

  “WHAT THE HELL has Mommy gotten us into?” Monica stared at Jeremiah's face. If it weren't for his cocoa skin he would be the spitting image of Sharief. “Everybody hates me, you know. Everybody. I took a big chance having you…”

  “You sure did,” Starr said, walking into Monica's bedroom. She placed her purse down on Monica's dresser and said, “Let me see my grandbaby.” Starr held him in her arms, and he smiled at her. Instantly her heart melted. She couldn't help but love him. She placed Jeremiah on her shoulder and looked at Monica. “You know that you have started a whole heap a shit, right?”

  Monica bit the inside of her cheek and stroked her hair to the back.

  “And you know that you were wrong?” Starr continued.

  “But I loved him,” Monica said defensively.

  “No, you wanted to fuck him and went too far. He stayed here too long without his wife and y'all figured if you fucked nobody would know. But Monica, you can look at your daddy and know that whatever is done in the midnight hour will come to light by noon.”

  “I don't want to talk about my daddy, he has nothing to do with this!”

  “Yes he does, and me too. I think that by your daddy being a married man and you knowing it, somehow I gave you permission to fuck married men. I somehow told you it was okay to mess up families and always be a thorn in their side. Well, since this is my fault,” Starr said, pointing to her chest, “then I'ma tell you now. It's not okay to do that. You leave women and their husbands alone. When you find out the man is married step the hell off, 'cause in the long run you always get smacked with the dick rather than fucked with it.”

  “Ma—”

  “I ain't finished. Now, the next thing, your sister's husband? Your sister?” She squinted, rubbing the baby's back. “You don't fuck with your sister's husband. That is a complete no-no.”

  “But we fell in love. It was more to it than that.”

  “I don't give a flying fuck! That was your sister's damn husband! Ain't no lovin' his ass. When I told you that I didn't like what was going on between you two, you should've canned it, put it away, but instead you continued to mess with him, doing whatever and never thinking of your sister. Let me tell you something, Monica, when that big-dick niggah is long gone and layin' it on some other ho, having babies with her, Celeste will still be your sister.”

  “Well, Ma, my baby is already here. What do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to make peace with yourself so when this baby starts asking why are his cousins also his sisters you can explain it to him.”

  “Ma.” Monica started to cry. “Do you still love me?”

  “Me loving you ain't the issue. I'm ya mama, nobody will love you like I do. But your sister is a different story.” Starr looked around. “You need to clean up, this house is a mess.”

  “Ma, I just need a break.” Monica shook her head.

  “Well, it's nine o'clock. Call up Listra or one of your other girlfriends and go out for a little while. I wanna spend some time with my grandbabies, anyway. Don't worry, I'll stay here until they fall asleep.”

  “Thank you, Ma.” Monica kissed her on the forehead. “I love you too.”

  She pulled her hair to the back and placed it in a curly Afro ponytail. She placed big silver hoop earrings in her ears, slipped on a tight denim dress with a fringed bottom hem, put on her red patent-leather stilettos, and stepped out the door. For the first time in a long time, even if she didn't feel it, she was fierce. Monica didn't know where she was going or who she was going with but knew she was going somewhere, even if she had to do it alone.

  As she got in her car she pulled out her cell phone and called Listra. “Hey, gurl!” Monica said, excited, as Listra answered the phone.

  “Hey, Monica! How are you?”

  “I'm fine. You haven't been by to see your godson.”

  “I know, girl, but the truth is I can't stand Sharief and I can't be around him.”

  “But you don't have to talk to him.”

  “Monica, what de hell? Gurl, I'm not comin' no place that man payin' bills and be vexed with him, I can stay home for dat.”

  “Look, I don't want to get into it with you, I'm calling so we can hang out. I'm dressed and ready to go.”

  “You wanna bust a lime now?” Listra said, surprised.

  “Yes, come on out.”

  “I can't gurl. I got de worst cramps in de world. I can't drink nuthin', I'm sorry, baby gurl.”

  “Damn. All right, I understand.”

  “Will you and Jeremiah come see me tomorrow?” Listra asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. Look, I'll call you at home later on or if I feel better I'll make an exception and ride by. Maybe we can hang out then.”

  … … …

  MONICA SAT WITH tears in her eyes, determined not to go back in the house. She couldn't believe this is what her life had come to. She couldn't take it and she didn't want it anymore. I can't deal with this right now, she thought as she placed her car in gear and took off. By the time she stopped driving she was pulling into a parking lot and walking across the street to the Cherry Lounge.

  As soon as she walked in, she noticed the men. Goddamn, look at these men in here. One thing's for sure, she thought as she sat down at the bar, that ma'fuckin' Sharief knows he cleans up rather well. As Monica went to order her drink, she noticed that the bartender was setting an empty shot glass in front of her.

  “My friend over there,” he said, pointing, “would like to say hello.”

  Monica looked up and the guy waved. He was average looking, nothing to write home about, but Monica appreciated the drink and the attention. He walked over and extended his hand. “Milton,” he said. As she shook his hand, she noticed a thin gold band on his left hand. He caught her looking and smiled. “Don't worry about that, what's your name?”

  “Well it damn sure ain't Desperate, Need to Be Fucked, or Chick on the Side.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I don't need to excuse you, your wife does. Now beat it, I have enough problems.” Monica was pissed. She got up from the bar and headed toward the dance floor. As soon as the club song “One Night Love Affair” came on, she started gettin' her groove on.

  Monica stayed in the club for a few hours then headed home. By the time she got there, she noticed that her mother's car was gone. She hoped that Jeremiah was still sleeping peacefully.

  “Where the fuck you been?” Sharief yelled as soon as she walked in the door.

  Although he scared her she still tried to ignore him. He spun her around. “I asked you a question. Where the fuck you been?”

  “I was out with Listra.”

  “Stop lying,” he pointed in her face, “because that nontalkin' bitch was over here looking for you, so how did you go out with her?”

  “I hooked up with her after that.”

  “What time?”

  “At ten thirty.”

  “Stop lying, she came by here at eleven.” Sharief got into Monica's face and pinned her against the wall. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. “You were out with some niggah?”

  “Get out my face.”

  “Answer me!”

  “Get the fuck out my face!” she screamed.

  He grabbed her roughly by the chin. “Answer me.”

  “And if I was?”

  “I'll kick your fuckin' ass, you cheatin' on me?”

  “Fuck you.” “Fuck me! Since when I get left at home alone with the god-damn kids in this nasty-ass house while you go fuck some niggah?”

  “Why I gotta be fuckin' somebody?”


  “You ain't fuckin' me!”

  “I don't wanna fuck you! How about that?” She pushed him in the center of his chest. “I don't want you no more. Don't you see I fucked up my family to be with you. I fucked over my sister to be with you and what the fuck are you? Some drunk-ass, unemployed nothing with kids that get on my damn nerves! I need you to leave. I don't want to work at this. I don't want nothing for Jeremiah! I have to get away from you, because I feel like I'm in a battle.”

  “So you want me to step? Where the fuck am I supposed to go?”

  “Find someplace, besides a liquor store, you drunk mother-fucker! You have a mother, go stay with her. But you have to leave here. I want your shit packed and you gone. I can't do this anymore.” She started to cry. “Please. Please leave. I'm begging you to go.”

  Sharief kicked over the wicker truck and threw a chair across the room. “I don't believe this!”

  “Stop it!” Monica screamed. “Stop it.” She slid down the wall, tears pouring from her eyes. The kids ran to the top of the stairs and watched as Sharief tore up the living room and Monica cried, begging him to leave.

  “Daddy!” Kai yelled. “What you doin'? If Aunty wants you to leave, why don't you just go? Maybe then we can find my mommy.”

  As if Kai had said the magic words, Sharief stopped instantly and turned to Monica. “You know I love you.” He chuckled slightly, tears racing down his cheeks. “I love you so much that I didn't give a fuck about nothing and nobody and now look at this. Look at this.” He wiped his eyes and looked at Monica. “Me and my kids'll be gone in the morning. I won't say good-bye, because we've already said that.”

  Monica wiped the tears that covered her face. “And don't wake me when you leave.” She walked up the stairs and went to bed.

  (Imani)

  “KHERE YOU WANT us to go, Tasha?” Imani said, watching Sabrena roll a blunt as she, Tasha, and Quiana sat around Sabrena's living room. The music was blasting and Tasha was trying to talk the girls into going to a club over in Jersey.