First off I have to thank the Creator. Without Him none of this would be possible.
To Karen Thomas, my editor, my friend, and the only person in the industry I can lean on when times are hard. Thanks. Without your belief I’d be nowhere in this industry.
To Walter Zacharius, Steven Zacharius, Laurie Parkin and the entire Kensington staff, you’ve been better than a publishing house. You’ve been a second family. Drinks and dinner are on me at BEA in Chicago. Thanks for the opportunity.
To my three protegees: Angel, La Jill and Dwayne. You guys have all the talent in the world. I have no doubt that the students will someday surpass the teacher, and I will truly welcome that. Best of luck to you all.
Thanks to all the book clubs and fans who have read my books. It’s you who make this whole thing worth-while.
Last but not least, I’d like to thank all the black book stores that helped to make Baby Momma Drama the number one Essence bestseller. I may not have gotten a chance to visit each of your stores this past winter, but I’m going to try to visit every one of them in the near future.
Well, until Player Haters hits the stores, thanks for the ride. It’s been great.
Oh, and if you get a chance, holler at your boy.
Carl Weber
[email protected]
First of all I would like to thank God who has given more abundantly than I have ever deserved. I give all the honor and glory to you.
To my parents, Charles and Martha Smith, and my grandmother Minnie L. Hunt, I thank you for your undoubting faith, love and encouragement. I could never have made it this far without you.
To my husband, Corey Williams, and my beautiful daughters for your patience and presence throughout this entire process. See, dreams really can come true.
To my brother, Chaz, and my sister, Latoya (and Pie), thanks for hooking me up by baby-sitting, even when you didn’t want to. I told you I had something important to do!
To Karis and Braxton and the entire Hunt, Smith, Williams, and Peck families! Thanks.
To Bishop R. L. Lewis and New Light Full Gospel Baptist Church, and Dr. K. W. Brown and the Mt. Lebanon Missionary Baptist Church. Thank God for the double portion!!!
To Yvette, you are more than a friend, you are an angel! To my friends for life—Joy, Shan, Saundra, Roxanne and Tonya. Troy, thanks for all you’ve done. I luv you all.
To my VZ family—there were too many to name. Robilyn, here’s to the start of something great!!! Dwayne Joseph, you have the greatest listening ear and I thank you. See you on the best-seller list!!!
And last but not least to my newfound friend, advisor, confidante, and mentor—Carl Weber. Words cannot express my gratitude for taking me under your wing and guiding me along the way. You are the big brother I always wanted and never had. Through you I have learned so much and you have given more. I love you for that and will forever be indebted. And I am sure you’re gonna make me pay you back, anyway!!
To anyone I forgot, I am sorry and I will catch you in Drama Queen.
La Jill Hunt
[email protected]
I barely made it into the house carrying an armload of groceries, my purse, and a handful of mail. I struggled into the kitchen and dropped the bags on the table. Clicking on the light, I saw an open forty-ounce bottle sitting on the counter, the top right next to it. He didn’t even have the common sense to cover the damn thing up. Dishes were piled up in the sink and a pot of spaghetti was sitting on the stove. I just shook my head at the mess and began putting the groceries away. I stopped long enough to go through the junky living room into my bedroom and take off my uniform. I didn’t bother to hang it up. Jordan doesn’t feel the need to hang his shit up. Why should I?
I sat on my side of the bed and saw the light flashing on the answering machine. I pushed the button and listened to the messages.
“Trice, call me as soon as you get this message. I got another one of those letters from the bank, and if you can’t tell, I’m pissed. Trice, you and Jordan swore you were gonna take care of this. This is not my responsibility and I am not gonna accept it. I swear—”
I clicked the delete button before my brother could finish. I knew I wasn’t gonna call him. He knew it, too. It was eleven o’clock at night and I could not be bothered. Besides, what was I gonna tell him? I didn’t have the money.
“Mrs. Taylor, this is Mr. Hawkins with First American Mortgage. We have been trying to get in contact with you and your brother in regard to payment on the property. It is over ninety days past due and we really need to receive payment in order to prevent foreclosure. Please give me a call at—” I cut him off, too. Lord knows I didn’t wanna be bothered with him either.
I figured I wasn’t gonna take a chance on receiving any more bad news, so I didn’t play any more messages. I could hear someone moaning over my head and looked up at the ceiling. Kerri must have company, and she is working it! You go, girl! I couldn’t help but smile. I didn’t remember the last time Jordan wanted to get some and wasn’t drunk.
I went into the bathroom and saw a wet towel in the middle of the floor. Picking it up, I put it on top of the laundry basket already piled with clothes. I picked up the heavy basket and decided that there was no better time than the present to wash clothes. I took a handful of quarters off the dresser and put the basket on a small cart, heading to the basement of the building, which served as the laundry room.
“Hey, Trice. Need some help?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin as the voice came out of the dark stairwell just as I walked out of my apartment. “Freddie! What the hell are you doing?”
“I was just waiting to catch Paul. I been waiting, but he ain’t came home yet.” His breath stank to high heaven and he looked like he had climbed out of the Dumpster.
“What you waiting on Paul for?” I pushed past him and dragged the cart to the basement door.
“I need for him to give me two dollars.”
“You think Paul gonna give you money, Freddie?”
“He might. It’s for a good cause.” He smiled his yellow-stained grin and I tried not to turn up my nose.
“What? They got a sale on forties?” I smirked. He actually had the nerve to be offended.
“If they did, I’d have to stand behind your husband to get one.” He laughed and left out the front door.
“At least my husband got a job, you mangy, stank-breath drunk! Get your ass off my property!” I raised my hand and Freddie took off running.
Once I was in the basement I made sure that the washer was empty and poured detergent into the machine. I pushed the quarters in and dumped the clothes. Climbing back up the steps, I gazed at the hallway walls and sighed because I knew they were in bad shape. Looking at the floors, they were even worse. It was gonna take a lot of money to fix this place up. Money I didn’t have.
I walked into my apartment and headed straight for the bath. Freddie had obviously run into Paul, because I could hear them yelling.
I got into the shower and stood there at least thirty minutes. It had been a long day. Driving that damn bus is no joke. I’d been cussed out, yelled at, talked about, and spat on, and that was all in the course of one day. But the pay was all right, and I didn’t get bored.
“Looks like I came home just in time,” Jordan said, and pulled the curtain open.
“Jordan! Where the hell have you been? I know you got off at five. It’s damn near midnight!” I yelled.
“Damn, you’re sexy when you’re mad.” He tried to reach in but I hit him. “Is that any way to greet your husband, Trice?”
“It is when your husband left the house a goddamn wreck. Jordan, I know I cleaned this place up before I left here. You left food out on the stove and beer on the counter. This building is already raggedy as hell. What, you want us to have roaches, as well?” I snatched the curtain closed and turned the water off. I reached for my towel and went into the bedroom.
“Sounds like Kerri’s getting her groove on! Makes me wanna do some things myself.” Jordan walked behind me and ran his hands across my damp back. I must admit, it felt good, but I knew where Jordan had been and he wasn’t getting no parts of this pussy tonight. I could smell the beer on his breath and it was a turnoff.
“Where have you been, Jordan?”
“I went over to the bar with Rodney,” he answered.
I reached on my dresser to get the cocoa butter and began rubbing it over my body.
“Trice, you know that gets me horny when you do that. Come on, baby,” he growled.
“Well, get over it. How much did you lose, Jordan?” I kept rubbing as he watched.
“Lose? What do you mean, lose?”
“Don’t play stupid with me. How much did you lose gambling?”
“Who said I was gambling?”
“I said it. I know you like a book, Jordan. Now how much did you lose?”
“See. Why you gotta say it like that, Katrice? How you know I ain’t win?” He took the bottle of lotion and poured some into the palm his hand. I glared at him as he rubbed his palms together.
“Because if you won, Jordan, you would have been bragging from the time you hit the door.” I knew him better than he thought I did. Over the past couple of months, it had gotten worse and worse and we were getting broker and broker. I loved Jordan more than life itself. He was the best thing that ever happened to me outside of my daddy. But I was getting more and more frustrated with our current financial state, and more importantly, I was getting fed up with him
“Aw, Trice. You have no faith in your man,” he said as he rubbed the lotion on my back. His hands felt so good, I began to loosen up. I let my head fall forward as he massaged my neck.
“How much, Jordan? Just tell me.” I sighed.
“I was up a grand, Trice. I was on a roll. But then the dice, they got cold.”
“How much?”
“Four hundred but—”
I cut him off before he could finish. “Four hundred dollars? Jordan, that’s half your paycheck!” I screamed. Jordan had a decent job working for FedEx, but he gambled most of his paycheck away every week. “We barely have lights and water. Not to mention the fact that they’re about to foreclose on this building!”
“What are you talking about, Katrice?”
“This building, Jordan. You know we’re three months behind on the mortgage. The bank is calling every day and now they’re sending Kevin letters, too. You know how hard I had to fight to keep this place. It was my daddy’s dream.” I could feel the tears as they filled my eyes.
“Don’t worry, Trice. It will be okay. You won’t lose the building. I promise, baby,” he whispered.
“How can you promise something like that, Jordan? We can barely pay our own rent in this place. This is becoming a habit, Jordan, and I can’t do it no more.” I pulled away from him. He put his finger over his mouth and motioned for me to be quiet. Before I could cuss him out for shutting me up, he pointed to the ceiling. “I don’t care who hears me,” I said.
“No, listen. Kerri is yelling at somebody,” he hissed. I concentrated so I could hear what he was talking about. He was right, she was yelling and she was loud. Then we heard her door slam.
“Let’s go peek!” He grabbed my arm and pulled me up. We hurried into the front room and pulled back the curtain. I could see a tall man running to his Mercedes. He didn’t look too happy.
“Damn. I wonder what he did?” Jordan turned and asked me.
“He probably gambled half of his paycheck away!” I huffed and got up.
“Trice, look, I told you I’m gonna take care of it. You gotta trust me. I am not gonna let you lose this place. Come on, let’s go to bed.”
“Where’s the rest of the money, Jordan?”
“I put it in the bank,” he said.
“Give me the card.”
“What?”
“Gimme the ATM card.” I stood up and held my hand out.
“Oh, so you don’t trust me now? Is that how it is, Trice? I told you I put it in the bank.”
“But I don’t want it to wind up out of the bank. Now give me the card and the checkbook.” I should have done this a long time ago. Jordan had lost all control and now it was time for me to gain it back.
He reluctantly reached in his brown pants pocket and pulled out a well-worn wallet. He flipped through until he found the check card for our joint account. I figured there was no point in getting his credit cards because they had been maxed out a long time ago. That done, he reached into the top of the closet and got the checkbook and thrust it at me.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this, Trice.”
“There are a lot of things I can’t believe you’ve done, Jordan.” I looked at him solemnly. I had to ask myself if this was the same man I fell in love with three years ago.
“I’m going down to the Quick-Mart and get a beer,” he grumbled.
“You got half a beer in the fridge already.”
“Well, I’m going to the Quick-Mart to get some fresh air, then,” he said as the door slammed behind him. I climbed in the bed and faced the wall. I had used everything I had to get this place and now I was losing all I had to keep it, including my mind and my marriage. I had to wonder if it was all worth it.
I could see Kerri’s light was still on when I pulled up to the building. That made me pause and think, because she was usually in bed by eleven and it was way past that now. It’s kinda funny how quickly I’ve learned her routine. I can tell you what time she gets up in the morning, what time she leaves for work, and what time she comes home without even giving it a second thought. Hell, I could probably tell you what time she takes a piss if you really wanted to know. And no, I’m not her over-bearing boyfriend or some deranged stalker. I’m her neighbor, her next-door neighbor to be precise, and with the thin-ass walls in our building, I can hear everything that goes on in her apartment. And I mean everything! Especially her sex life.
The way she moans and calls out that sorry-ass old dude’s name she be messin’ with is enough to make a brother sick to his stomach. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to hate, but what the fuck does he got that I ain’t got? Well, except for a Mercedes. Oh yeah, I think he’s got a Lexus, too, but hell, I got a Maxima. I mean, I just don’t understand why she ain’t gave me none yet. I’m always nice to her. Dammit, what the fuck is she waiting for, Christmas? Shit, she don’t know what she’s missing. I would put it on her ass.
I closed my eyes and imagined her lying back on her canopy bed, legs spread, with her fingers pulling back the hood of her clit as I knelt down between her legs.
“Paul, oh Paul!” she’d moan as I French kiss her pooh-pooh with my catlike tongue. “Eat me, Paul. Oh God, eat me! Please, just eat me!”
Just as it’s gettin’ good for her, I’d stop abruptly and tease her with my words.
“Is that it, baby? Is that what you want me to do? Eat you?” She’d nod her head and I’d smile. Then I’d moisten my lips and lower my head to finish what I’d started.
“Paul! Paul! Paul!”
I shook my head and snapped myself back into reality. Shit, I wasn’t in Kerri’s apartment. I was still in my car and someone was out there calling my ass for real.
“Paul! Paul! Paul!”
“Who dat?” I shouted, searching the dark parking lot until a wobbly figure appeared at the rear of my car.
“It’s me, Freddie. What’s wrong with you? Can’t you hear? I called your ass ’bout ten times. What’s up, nigga, you drunk? ’Cause if you is, let me get a taste.” Freddie was the neighborhood wino. A pain in the ass at times, but Freddie was generally harmless.
“Freddie, whatcha want, man?”
“I need to borrow two dollars until the day after tomorrow.” He almost fell over.
“You need what?” I looked at him like he was crazy.
“I need to borrow two dollars until tomorrow. So I can play Lotto. Ain’t you heard? The jackpot’s fifty million.”
“Yeah, I heard, but I ain’t givin’ you shit.” I stepped out of my car.
“Come on, Paul,” he whined, “with the numbers I got, I can’t miss. Matter of fact, if I win I’ll split it with you.” He spread his hands apart as if to say, How can you beat that?
“Yeah, right.” I laughed at him pityingly.
“What? Don’t you trust me?”
“Hell no, I don’t trust your drunk ass! Only thing I trust you to do is go down to the Quick-Mart and buy a forty so your drunk ass can get drunker.”
“Damn, Paul, why you bein’ so cheap? All I wanna do is buy a couple’a lottery tickets. If I wanted money for a forty, I woulda told you it was for a forty.” He had the nerve to have an attitude.
“Well, why don’t you get a job? Then you won’t have to ask me for shit.” I hit the alarm on my Maxima and headed towards my building.
“Fuck you, Paul, you cheap bastard. I should fuck up your car.”
I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around. He was mumbling and probably didn’t think I’d heard him, but I did.
“What’d you say?”
“Nothin’.” He tried to look innocent.
“Fuck with my car if you want to, Freddie. But I’ma tell you what. If you do, you better hit that damn lottery. ’Cause after the ass-whipping I’m gonna give you, you’re gonna need every dime to pay for your hospital bills. Now get away from my fucking car.”
“Man, fuck you and your car,” he muttered as he walked off.
Any other time I probably would’ve given Freddie the two dollars, but I was still pissed off about spending my money on this sister Jade I’d gone out with last night.
I’d taken her to Red Lobster and a movie, which was not my norm. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a pretty boy or anything. Shit, matter of fact some might call me a little overweight. But in a town that’s got a ratio of ten women to every one man, a brother with a good job and his own place has got it made, and I was that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. At least I was to everyone but Kerri.
I opened the main door to my building, noticing the 987 and shaking my head. We live at 5987 Easy Street, but the 5 had fallen off before I moved in and none of my fellow tenants or my landlord had found the need to fix it. Our landlord, well, she didn’t fix nothin’, ’cause she was in financial straits. Funny thing was that for the most part it was a fairly decent spot to live. Not located in the best neighborhood, but it was clean . . .
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