Kismet 3

by Raynesha Pittman

  “Man, you look just like your sister.”

  He tried to be slick with that old-ass line, but he was old so what else could I expect? Like I said, I wasn’t giving out any passes.

  “Pay attention to your visit, old head, and quit checking out my mama. She’s married and ain’t nothing you can do for her, you feel me?”

  My mama hushed me up again, but this time more seriously. Old dude was right, though. We did look alike. We might not have shared the same skin tone, but I was her male twin. I didn’t look like a female, nor did she look manly, but our likeness was off the charts. I had her thick, full lips, dark brown eyes, and long hair, just mines was dreaded. All I got from my father was his frame, color, and personality flaws. I mugged the old cat one more time and then turned my attention to my own visit.

  “How’s he looking out there on the football field?” I pointed at her shirt, proud to see that my son played for the same team I did at his age.

  She looked at me like she always did when she knew I was upset, but she didn’t say anything about it. She went with the change of conversation and answered my question.

  “You know who his father is. My grandbaby is a natural. They got him playing running back, and he’s burning up the field. Reminds me of when your daddy and I used to sit out there watching you. His team is 4 and 0, and that ain’t thanks to nobody but Junior and that quarterback. His line doesn’t block for poop.”

  “His line doesn’t block for poop,” I repeated mockingly.

  It was funny hearing my mama switch out cuss words, but that was Mama Dee for you. It would take a lot to get her to cuss, and when she did, you’d wish she never had. We laughed and talked about the days when she was screaming for me to rip the field up in my cleats for fifteen minutes, and then she told me she had gotten a letter from my father. She knew I didn’t want to hear about it, but that wasn’t going to stop her from telling me what he said.

  “You know the guy he’s in jail over finally got caught a few years back, so your dad is thinking about appealing his case. He never told on the man. All he gave was a fake nickname, which, of course, they couldn’t find the person to fit it. He said now all he had to do was say he didn’t know his name but point the guy out, and the evidence would add up.”

  I gave a quick “uh-huh” just to show her I was listening, but I didn’t care. What difference would it make? After serving all these years and leaving his family to struggle, now he’s ready to snitch? I wouldn’t get my hopes up, and I wanted to tell my mama she shouldn’t either, but instead, I switched the subject.

  “Mama, did anybody named Savannah call you?”

  As soon as I said the name, Mama Dee’s expression changed to pure disgust. I always knew the day would come when I’d have to introduce the two of them. I just always thought I’d have time to prepare Savannah for their introduction. When my mama opened her mouth, all hell broke loose.

  “Yeah, the heffa called me, introducing herself as your fiancée.” She paused and looked at me like she was expecting me to correct the lie Savannah had told her, but when I didn’t, she continued with a frown on her face that was out of this world. “Who does Ms. Thing think she is calling my house like she’s all high and mighty because she’s educated? I could feel her turning her nose up at me like I’m beneath her through the phone, Dre. If the Lord hadn’t been guiding my tongue, sister girl would have heard it. Where do you meet these floozies you call women? And I can’t believe you fooled around and had a baby by this one. Or is that really your baby?”

  I wish I could have lied and said I didn’t know, but there was no question that Sade was mine. When Stephanie was telling me about all the hoeing Savannah had been doing before me, I got with Mrs. Jefferson and the doctor at the lab. DNA proved without a doubt Sade was mine.

  “Yes, Mama, she’s mine, and her name is Sade. That means she’s yours too.”

  “Did Diane Nicole Anderson tell you she was yours, or did that girl convince you to believe it?”

  “Who the fuck... I mean, who is Diane?”

  “The only female you can trust in cases like this, DNA.”

  I almost fell out of my chair laughing and tried to laugh as long as I could, hoping she’d forget the question. The side glance look she gave me confirmed she hadn’t, and I knew she wouldn’t ask the question again without cursing me out.

  “Diane confirmed it. She’s mine, and if you saw her, you’d know it. She looks more like me than Junior.”

  “Junior doesn’t look like you at all. His mama spit him out by herself. And you sure Diane was right? She said 100 percent without a doubt the baby by that... that thing is yours.”

  “Mama, you just said Diane was the only female I can trust, and you know she never says 100 percent. On paper, I’m 99.999 percent sure, but in my heart, there’s no doubt that she is.”

  At my confirmation, Mama Dee took her eyes off of mine and closed them. In her Sunday praise and worship voice, she said, “Lord of all lords and King of all kings, I come to you today with my son and ask of you to cover my granddaughter in your blood, Jesus. She didn’t ask to be given to her mama. She was chosen for her. I don’t doubt your decisions or the plans you have in store for my grandbaby, Father God, but please keep her safe and protected. Lord, please strengthen my son’s mind and heart when it comes to his choice in women and help to rinse that evil Jezebel desire away from him—”

  “Mama, say amen.” I had to cut her off because she was about to go overboard with it. I don’t know what happened between her and Savannah over the phone, but I knew now wasn’t the time to tell her how Savannah had hidden the pregnancy from me. Nor was it the time to tell her that foster parents were raising her granddaughter, that’s for damn sure. Mama Dee looked surprised that I stopped her in the middle of her prayer, but she knew she was about to overdo it. She crossed her left leg over her right, folded her arms into her chest, then leaned back in her chair and stared at me with an evil look on her face until I spoke up.

  “Mama Dee, you already know you’re my favorite lady in this cold-ass world. Don’t look at me like that. I know she’s a handful, and I’m working with her on that, but did she say anything else?”

  Rolling her eyes up to the ceiling, she said, “Ms. Thing had a lot to say, like how you told her I needed to pay all her bills and how when she comes to visit you in Nashville, we should have lunch somewhere that has a five-star rating instead of me cooking her dinner like I offered. She said she would be getting a hotel because she wasn’t gon’ dare stay at my house like I offered because I lived in East Nashville, and she didn’t care if the rich were moving in. It would always be the hood to her. She said she wasn’t about to get robbed or shot for you or me. Then she told me how I needed to—”

  “Okay, Mama, okay.” I felt like I needed to wave a white flag to get her to stop ranting. “I get your point, and I will talk to her about the way she talks to you, Mama. Thank you for not going off on her and cussing her out. She doesn’t know who she’s playing with.”

  “She doesn’t know who she’s playing with, and you should make it your number one priority to let her know that I’m not the one. I’m good with God. I’m sure he’d let me slide on one sin, especially if I was sinning to hurt a devil.”

  I laughed a little because my mama looked like she was ready to fight. I hadn’t seen that look on her face since Tasha had busted the windows out of my car and had put all four of my tires on flat.

  “I know you’re hotter than fish grease at the church’s fish fry, but, Mama, did she tell you anything to tell me, like about my car or anything else?”

  “Yeah, she did.” She unfolded her arms, a sign that she was calming down. “She told me to tell you it was somebody named Memphis answering her phone when you called. She said he popped up to apologize for that stuff with her mama or something like that. She claims he didn’t know you were in jail, or else he wouldn’t have hung up on you. Then she said she was moving in with him and her dad and that you c
ould call and ask him if you don’t believe her. Hell, I don’t know what she was talking about or who Memphis is, but I don’t believe her. I got a bad vibe from that girl, and you know I ain’t wrong when I have them feelings, Dre. You don’t ever listen to what I got to say to you about them floozies anyways, so I don’t expect you to listen now, but are you sure this is the woman you want to make your wife? I just don’t see you on one knee, begging this woman to be your wife. I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I’d rather see you married to Tasha. At least we know what to expect from her crazy butt.”

  I ignored her question about marrying Savannah, not because she was upsetting me, but because I wasn’t sure. I knew Mama Dee, and if I opened up and told her anything negative about Savannah, she’d never let it go, even if I did decide to marry her. Now she had me wishing I would have been a fly on the wall when she talked to Savannah, because never in a million years would my mama say she’d want me to marry Tasha’s ass.

  “Mama, you know I’ll talk to you about everything when I can talk to you about everything. It’s like you said, I got to learn to jump one hurdle at a time.” I flashed my inmate informational wristband at her like it was an expensive watch.

  “Well, Dre, if you like it, baby, then I love it. If she’s the one you want...” She took a deep breath, and then said, “You have my full blessing. But know I’ll be praying and praying hard. My intuition ain’t never led me wrong. The way that girl talks to folks, she ain’t long for this world, or she got some good security protecting her.” Underneath her breath, she said, “Security like my Captain Save-the-World son.”

  Mama Dee must have taken my silence as me getting upset because her reaction was the one she always gave when we disagreed. She always put her thoughts and better judgment to the side to agree with mine. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t tell me, “I told you so,” later on, if I were wrong. It meant she wanted me to know she respected me as a grown man with the right to make my own decisions, even if she felt I was making the wrong ones.

  “Thank you, Mama,” was all I managed to say because it was time to wrap up our visit. Before she left, she told me to call her later to talk to my son. She said she had put money on her phone and “on that girl’s,” meaning Savannah’s, too. We exchanged the words, I love you, then headed in our separate ways with a promise that she’d return next week.

  After dinner, I walked past the payphones and stretched out on my bunk. I’d call my son tomorrow after they got out of church. Calling Savannah could wait. I knew everything I needed to know about her status from my mama. Savannah was down to stick around, and that’s all I really wanted to know. Her introduction to Mama Dee didn’t go as I would have liked it to, but they both sounded willing to give each other a try.

  Let me take that back. They were both willing to give each other a try for me. That alone said enough. I’d call Savannah after I went to court Tuesday morning. I needed the next few days to figure out how I would drop the bad news on her.

  Sunday flew by, and so did Monday, and I still didn’t know how to tell her yet. On the ride to court, I reminded myself that it didn’t matter how much time the judge gave me because Savannah wasn’t going to like what I’d have to say anyway. Whether he sentenced me to serve two weeks or two years, the facts wouldn’t change, because once I was released, I’d still be on probation. That meant no more Seattle, Washington. How would I explain this shit to Savannah? I couldn’t just say, “Hey, baby, I got another four years of probation to serve, and I can’t leave Tennessee, so quit your job, pack up your shit, sell the house, and come start all over here with me, and when I’m done paying what they say I owe society, we can move wherever you like.”

  In a perfect world with a tamed and submissive chick, that might work, but it wasn’t going to be that easy with Savannah. She would put up a fight. She’d want me to try my best to get my case transferred to Washington, and that’s something I wasn’t willing to do. Why drag my fuckups from the past into my new future? I knew my decision not to have my case transferred meant losing time with Sade, but I wasn’t ready to snatch her up from the Jeffersons after they’d built that bond with her anyway. I was sure they’d been standing on eggshells ever since they found out the truth about Savannah and my past. They’d gotten the chance to know me and to see the man that I was. I was sure they knew I’d prefer to have Sade full time and give them the part-time parenting role, but they knew my heart wouldn’t allow me just to snatch her away. I’d never told them I’d be willing to take them to court to get my child. I just went along with their program. Savannah caused all this, and I had no knowledge of any of it. I had every right to pursue getting my daughter, but I didn’t want the Jeffersons to have to deal with that heartache, nor for Sade to keep being passed around like a doll.

  I planned to stay here in Tennessee until my time was served and I was completely off of papers. Then I’d get the fuck out of Dodge and move on to bigger and better things. Maybe I would pack my mama and Andre Jr. up and move them to Washington to spend time with Sade and the Jeffersons before I got off of probation. You never know. But for now, I had to worry about my current state. Sade would have to visit me as much as possible, and I’d request permission to visit her as well. This all made sense to me, but it wouldn’t to Savannah. All she would be looking at was her own losses. Guess in that aspect we are alike, both selfish, and we both want what’s best for us. The only difference was I had to think about what was best for Sade, Andre Jr., my mama, and the Jeffersons. In the end, one of us would break down and see it the other’s way, or else we’d go our separate ways. Those were the only options I could see at this point. Either Savannah would pack up and move to Tennessee, or we were through. I was hoping that with all the energy she’d been exhausting toward our relationship, the end result would fall in my favor.

  When I made it to court, my lawyer was in the hallway waiting on me.

  “How are you feeling this morning, Andre?”

  “Like I’m ready to get this shit over with. Is my mama here?”

  “You know your mama is here. I think she was the first person seated in the courtroom. Knowing her, she might have slept here,” Mitch said with a chuckle.

  He was the only lawyer I’ve ever used, and that was because he was the only lawyer I’ve ever trusted. We went to high school together but never hung out. He was one of those dudes I always spoke to because he was the star of the basketball team and I, the star of the football team. Our love for opposite sports kept us away from each other, but our drive to give our all on our individual playing fields is what made it mandatory to show each other mad love and respect whenever we were in each other’s sight.

  It was funny that we both ended up taking the cop exam together, but Mitch didn’t stay for his test results. One of those questions did something to him, and two years later, I found out that the question is what sent him back to school to finish his degree in criminal law. A few years after that word spread that he was a criminal defense lawyer, a damn good one at that, I hired him the first time I could use him. He remained a phone call away after that and always answered on the first ring, no matter what the hour was.

  “Yeah, knowing her, she did sleep here.”

  “Ready to recap our conversation? I know we talked on the phone the day before and went over the particulars, but I think we should go over them again now that the shit isn’t being recorded.”

  “Shit, I want what every man headed to jail wants that values his time... to get sentenced to the least amount of time possible in jail and to serve the rest of it on probation in the streets.”

  “I hear you,” which were the exact words he used on the phone. Mitch was a shark, not in a bad way. Well, not to me anyway. He didn’t want me to have to serve any more time, and he even wanted me to be released with fewer restrictions on my probation, so I could use the freedom to get custody of my kids. Needless to say, when it was all said and done, I walked out of the courtroom feeling great, and Mitch
left feeling like the case was lost. Even my bunkie could tell I was in good spirits when I returned.

  “Looks like court went well for you. You don’t look like you’re ready to kill a nigga anymore.” He laughed and then continued to look at some pictures he had just received. I was good, and that’s why I decided to talk to him finally.

  “Yeah, it went damn good. Your girl sent you some pictures?”

  He jumped off his bunk and handed them to me. They were pictures of a beautiful bright-skinned girl that looked about seven or eight months pregnant. “Yeah, that’s my baby mama. She’s nine months pregnant with my son. It’s my first seed.”

  “She looks like she’s ready to push.”

  “Yeah, she’s dropping him any day now. She’s been having pain and shit for about a week.”

  Emotions ran heavy on his face. I didn’t have to ask him what was wrong. I knew. He would be locked up and miss the birth of his son. That’s a fucked-up feeling.

  “Aye, this shit is going to sound impossible to do, but don’t let it get to you. It’s only going to make this time in here harder. Go to the library, look up first memories. Right now, the shit feels like it’s about you and your memories of being there for everything from the time he comes out, but it isn’t. Your girl will save you all the memories she can. She understands what you’re going through.”

  “Shit, that ain’t what it feels like, and that’s not how my girl is taking it. Every chance she gets, she reminds me how her parents are going to have to be there when she goes in labor and how they will help her get up with my junior in the middle of the night and how they have to do my job for me. Really, I wish none of their asses was going to be there to steal my memories. I don’t want anybody doing my job, but I don’t want her stressed out from doing it alone.”

  “Understood, but do you think your son is going to remember who was in the room when he got his first whiff of air in his lungs or who woke up with him in the middle of the night to change his wet diaper? Hell no. I’m in the same boat as you locked up, so I’m the best motherfucka to tell you. He will be too young to make memories, but by the time you serve your time and get out, he will start to build them, and he will be able to say you never left his side if you get your shit together after this fuckup.”