Baby Momma Saga

by Ni'chelle Genovese

Genres: African American Urban

Synopsis

Welcome to the fast-paced, high stakes world of Rasheed, an anti-hero you'll love to hate much like Scarface. Caught up in a game of fast money, faster women, and a hustler’s dream, Rasheed’s secrets and lies threaten to completely sever his alliance with his baby’s mother, Michelle. Trapped in an emotional whirlwind of sex, love, and mistrust, Michelle attempts to hold the threads of their lives together. With the passing of each day, their bond unravels further, forcing Michelle closer to a decision to either confront the reality which is her life or suffer in silence. Once she makes her decision, some bitter and surprising cards are dealt to her son’s father. Now Michelle is finally looking forward to leading a normal, quiet family life. However, there is nothing quiet about the secret lives the people around her are leading. Michelle finds herself drawn in by the allure of her budding real estate career, catering to the likes of models and basketball players and enjoying the sex-fueled spoils of the rich and shameless lifestyle. This only highlights the unsettling fact that her marriage and home life aren’t as picture perfect as she once imagined. When things begin to fall apart and fingers start pointing, it leads her down a dark and dangerous path. Her present is united with a past that could potentially destroy everything. Will the lies, secrets, twist and turns of life prevent this baby momma from achieving her goals and living out the life she dreamed of?

Release date: February 28, 2017

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 400

Sample

I lay back on the fake leather couch, sippin’ my Henny and relaxing while I let Honey take care of me. Honey was the finest stripper at the Hot Spot, one of the few remaining strip clubs in East Ocean View. No one had an ass as big and as soft as hers, and on top of that, the bitch was fine. If she wanted to, she could be in any rap nigga’s video, no questions asked. She had cinnamon-brown skin that glowed like she was covered in baby oil twenty-fo’-seven, and these titties that just seemed to hypnotize. I had been fuckin’ wit’ her for a minute. I came to the club and checked her out, even made it rain like a hurricane lettin’ loose tens and twenties all over the stage every now and then. In return, I knew that this was my piece of ass until I decided otherwise. Honey climbed on my lap and leaned close to me. She started to whisper into my ear.

“I missed you, Rasheed. You ain’t gave me none in a week.”

I gave her my famous boyish grin and playfully whispered back, “You know what to do.” And so it began. She reached down between her legs and grabbed the belt of my pants. I had been missing that pussy a li’l bit so I decided to help her get to it a li’l faster. I set my glass down, undid my belt, and pulled out what I liked to call every bitch’s bad habit. You see, every nigga thinks he got the biggest dick in the world until he stand beside a nigga wit’ a bigga one. I ain’t confessin’ to peekin’ at nobody’s Johnson, but I could damn sure say I got that crack rock, dopefiend, call me Jerry Springer ’cause I’ma leave ya ho sprung type dick!

Honey was definitely addicted. First, she massaged it wit’ her hand. I didn’t know what this broad be doing wit’ her hands, but they were soft as hell and always made me shiver a little bit when she stroked me like that.

I was getting excited as I listened to R. Kelly’s “Wind for Me” playing in the background. I grabbed the side strap of her thong and untied it. I could feel it fall apart on my lap and I started to palm her ass. Damn, this bitch had a nice ass. I couldn’t even get all of it in my hands, but damn if I wasn’t trying.

I suddenly had the urge to feel her wet lips. She wasn’t experienced at givin’ head. From what she told me, she’d just lost her virginity the year before when she was eighteen. I could believe that shit, ’cause a nigga was a breath away from punchin’ her in the top of her too damn expensive Remy weave the first time she ever went there with me. I can’t stand feelin’ teeth, nails, any of that shit grazin’ my dick. I made it a point to teach her ’cause a nigga like me need that shit in my life for sho. Good head and good pussy from the same bitch is a hot commodity. You can find a million and one chicks who’ll give it to you, but only a handful can do that shit like Pinky the Pornstar or Superhead. I like these young chicks ’cause they got more potential and they definitely more willing to learn. Not that I’m that much older than Honey; five years ain’ shit in this day and age.

I grabbed her waist and lifted her off my lap.

She looked a little puzzled, like she didn’t understand what was going on. “What’s wrong, baby? You want me to stop?” she asked.

I loved her voice. It was kinda hoodish and whiny, but still sexy in that young chick kinda way.

“Naw, girl, I just want to watch you suck that shit for me.”

“But, baby, what if somebody see me? I could get fired.” She really sounded like she was worried about it.

Somebody needed to remind her that I owned the fucking club. We were secluded in the smaller one of three lounge areas. They were primarily for private dances, but every now and again someone would rent a section for a bachelor party or whateva. I had already requested this section be reserved and undisturbed, so Honey was worrying for no reason.

Besides, the only person with the audacity to even go against my word in here was my biz partner Derrick, and last time I checked he was busy tryin’a holla at a new bitch who came in yesterday lookin’ for work. She looked a li’l old in the face by my standards, but she had an hourglass, wide-body physique that left a nigga speechless! Shit, with the right makeup and lighting we could pull in stupid paper off her shifts for sure.

I smacked Honey on her ass, gave her a little grin, and told her to get to work. She hesitated for a second, then got on her knees and started her practice test. She was getting better. I felt less teeth, and damn, this shit was starting to feel real good. I had to grab her head a couple of times to stop her ’cause I didn’t want to bust in her mouth. I wanted to feel that pussy tonight.

“Come here, baby, come fuck daddy real good,” I told her and obediently she did.

She straddled my lap and placed me inside her. It felt like a warm cloud had surrounded me. With every movement she made, every up and down stroke, I felt my legs go weak. I didn’t know what it was this broad had in there but that shit was like heaven. And she was so willing to do whatever I asked.

I could get that shit anywhere I wanted. Maybe the fact that I was the biggest drug dealer in the city had something to do with it. They can deny ’til they die, but every bitch wants a li’l excitement. A li’l rush of adrenaline when you see ya nigga. These bullshit-ass playas talkin’ ’bout they runnin’ game and doin’ shit big. Connect four hustlas, ’cause that’s how many times they product gets chopped down before it ever even touches they hands. I’m number fuckin’ one. Runnin’ this fast-paced, do-or-die shit that a regular nigga or Reggie, as I like to call ’em, too scared to do. Single, married, young, old, it don’t matter. Bitches just naturally gravitated to a nigga like me.

I could hear Honey’s breath gettin’ raspy as our bodies molded together. I loved the way she stared me directly in the eyes while she was gettin’ it. That shit was like a silent challenge, sayin’ a nigga needed to go deeper or stroke harder. If her eyes closed even for an instant I knew I was hittin’ it extra right. She grabbed my hand, placed my pointer finger in her mouth, and began to suck it as if it were my dick. Talk about some sexy shit. She must have been watching those porno tapes I left for her the other day. I could tell she studied ’em hard ’cause she was working my ass. I might have to hit this shit again before the night was over with.

Just as I was getting ready to let go, I was distracted by my phone vibratin’ in my pants pocket against my ankle. I leaned forward, placed my arm around Honey’s waist so she wouldn’t fall, and I grabbed my phone. It was Michelle, my baby momma. Leanin’ back against the couch, I gave Honey a nod to keep going and answered the phone.

“What’s up?”

“Rasheed, where are you? It’s almost two thirty in the morning.”

Michelle was pissed. I had told her I’d be home at eleven. She hated it whenever I’d show up later than expected, even after I told her I didn’t like bein’ asked that type of shit in the first place. Michelle was always clockin’ a nigga. If it took fifteen minutes to get home from somewhere and I got there in twenty, she’d be right there at the front door with all sorts of questions and accusations. Actin’ like I actually stopped for five minutes to fuck anotha bitch or somethin’.

“I’m handling some very important business right now, an’ I’m a li’l busy. I’ll be there, damn.”

Honey shifted and rode me harder, excitin’ me and makin’ me address Michelle more aggressively than I meant to.

“Well, your son has a fever, jackass, and he needs to go to the hospital. You need to come on.”

It killed me when she tried to tell me what the fuck to do. She knew damn well that I wasn’t gonna get there until I was ready. “Well, I guess you need to make a trip to the hospital then. I’ll be there.” I ended the call before she could respond.

Honey had already cum. I could feel her wetness running down my leg, but being the good girl she was, my baby was going to ride until daddy told her to stop. That’s why I liked these young broads. You dick ’em up real good, throw ’em a few dollars, get their hair and nails done, maybe take ’em out to eat, and they happy. Michelle almost fucked up my mood, but all I had to do was look at Honey’s pretty face and get a feel of that ass and I was right back where I had been sixty seconds ago.

I forced my hips upward, slammin’ into her each time she thrust down. I knew she liked it when I did that, and I could see ecstasy written all over her face. She grabbed my shirt and the more she grabbed the harder I rammed into her. When she couldn’t take it anymore, she grabbed the back of my neck and loosened her legs around me. That was my cue to take over. I pulled her closer, focusin’ on my breathing so I’d last longer. The scent of musky leather from the overused couch mingled with Honey’s signature Juicy Couture sweetness pushin’ me closer to the edge. I was startin’ to feel like a taut rubber band extended to the max and ready to pop. Instinct took over and I started fuckin’ the shit outta her. I was gonna make sure her ass wasn’t gettin’ back on stage tonight.

When I thought I was about to pass out more from the pleasure than the pain, I let myself give in and I exploded in a heated flood of pleasure and muscle spasms.

“Damn girl, you gonna make me stalk yo’ ass if you keep puttin’ it down like that.”

“Oh, really, well, wait ’til daddy see what else I learned.”

She got up from my lap and bent down over my dick. She placed it in her mouth and licked it clean. Damn, she was surprising the hell out of me tonight. I’d have to find out what she really been up to.

She stood up and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I smacked her on her ass and told her to go get dressed ’cause we were leaving. She ran to the dressing room, no questions asked, and I headed to the car to wait for her.

I had thought about going straight to the hospital to meet Michelle, but I couldn’t get rid of Honey tonight. I was too hot and too ready and Michelle had given me too much lip. I didn’t even want to touch her ass tonight. She would just have to wait until tomorrow to see me, and that was only if she didn’t piss me off again. I cringed as Honey hopped into the passenger side of my all-white Lexus LFA. Three oily smudges skewed my view out the passenger side window from where she’d grabbed the door to pull it open. It cost a nigga a buck-twenty three times a week to keep the chariot washed and waxed. Keepin’ my temper in check I resisted the urge to point that shit out and headed for the closest IHOP. You know how a nigga do, fuck, eat, and sleep.

He never ceased to amaze me. Pissed, I slammed my BlackBerry down on the counter and immediately regretted the action. My insurance wasn’t going to cover me for another replacement phone. Rasheed’s temper had been the reason I’d replaced the last two after he crushed one under the car tire and threw another out of our front door. I rotated the phone between my French-manicured hands, inspecting the screen to make sure I hadn’t added another nick or ding to the metallic pink casing. I could feel myself getting worked up. Rasheed knew I had to be at work in four hours, he knew I had contracts to review, clients to meet, and a shitload of housework on top of all that. All I ever asked was that the nigga come home when he said he would.

Trey moaned and tossed on the couch in the living room. I walked over and placed my cheek against his forehead, feeling a little bit of relief. He wasn’t as hot as he’d felt earlier; maybe his fever was finally breaking. Bad enough I had to leave work early to pick him up from daycare, so I couldn’t afford not to go in in the morning. He hadn’t been keeping food down at all and the daycare was certain it was a flu virus. Those daycare heffas were so quick to diagnose a child and send him home. But for all I knew my baby really could have the flu, and you would think his daddy would be a little more concerned. I hefted Trey up into my arms and carried him into his bedroom. My baby was getting so tall and lanky, big for a two-year-old. My cell rang from the other room just as I’d tucked the cover under his chin.

“Damn. Chelly, you watchin’ this shit on TV? They runnin’ a Snapped marathon an’ this mufukin’ bitch killed erebody!” Larissa was talking a mile a minute, leaving me no room to respond. “Girl, her ass was free fo’ damn near ten years befo’ they caught her! Fuck, she took the nigga money, sold the house—”

“Hi, Ris, I’m good. How are you and how did you know I was still awake?” That’s how you had to do when Larissa was on one of her tirades. If I didn’t interrupt she’d give me the rundown of the whole damn episode, scene by scene.

“Girl, I’m sorry. You know how my ass is when somethin’ good is on. I knew you’d be up, ’cause I know you. How was your day today, sweetie?”

“Trey got sick at daycare and, as much as I didn’t want to, I had no choice but to go see ‘Heman-Shebitch’ and tell him I needed the rest of the day off.” I sighed heavily into the phone. Heman-Shebitch was the name I’d given Kenny Soloman, the regional manager of the bank I worked for and the only person hell-bent against me becoming VP of the mortgage group. He had the whole exotic mail-order wife, picture-perfect marriage, and fake-ass persona thing down pat. He was one of those identity-confused black men who simply had a hard time dealing with an intelligent and self-assured black woman. His life’s purpose was to point out to the entire senior management staff the fact that I was a twenty-four-year-old unwed black woman with a child and a hood-ass baby daddy.

“Oh, hell. Not his bitch ass! Chelly, promise when you get in charge ya first order of business is gonna be to fire his whack, no-life-havin’ self. He jus’ mad he gotta look at yo’ fine ass ereday knowin’ he ain’ got the equipment to put it down!”

We laughed. Ris was always good at making me smile. “Um . . . so where da hell is yo’ baby daddy?” You could cut the sarcasm with a knife. She knew where Rasheed was, or what I should say is that she knew where Rasheed claimed to be.

“Same as last night and the night before, Ris. He’s working.” I didn’t sound convincing, not even to my own ears. I’d been trying to give Rasheed the benefit of the doubt, but he was making it next to impossible for me to believe he wasn’t out doing dirt.

“Okay, Michelle. So that’s the game we playin’ right now, huh? Otha than the afta-hours spot, there ain’t a damn club in Virginia that stays open past two thirty. I say we go find his ho’n ass!”

“No, momma. It’s okay. Trey’s fever broke and I need to try to get some kind of sleep so I can review this contract with these clients tomorrow. I’m just tired, Ris. I’m getting so tired.” My voice caught in my throat and the line beeped with an incoming call. It was Rasheed.

“Let me call you in the morning, okay?” I rushed Ris off the line, anxious to see what excuse he was calling to give me. That seemed to be my life these days. Wait for Rah to call, wait for Rah to come home, wait for Rah to fuck up so I could catch him in a lie; I was always waiting for Rasheed.

This was a far cry from the family life I grew up with. My momma came home from work every day and cooked dinner for my father, who in turn brought his ass home every day at a reasonable time so we could all sit and have a meal as a family. My parents had what I liked to consider the real American Dream. They’d been married for nearly thirty years and were still each other’s best friend. As far as they knew, me and Rasheed were perfectly happy together. I couldn’t bring myself to tell them I spent most of my time miserable and in doubt. I closed my eyes and silently prayed for strength. I hit the ACCEPT INCOMING CALL option, mentally preparing myself for another battle of the sexes.

“Yes, Rasheed?” I waited but could only hear background noise. He was talking to someone and it was hard to make out his words over the background noise. “Rasheed, hello?” No response. This nigga had actually “butt-dialed” me. Somehow his phone was in his back pocket, and since I was probably the last number in his call log, when he sat down the phone dialed my number back.

It felt wrong, almost stalker-ish to eavesdrop on his conversation, but I couldn’t bring myself to press the end button. I could tell from the bumps every three or four seconds that he was driving. The radio was low and garbled and I still couldn’t hear who he was talking to or what he was saying. I placed the phone on speaker and carried it with me into the bedroom as I tied up my hair and got ready for bed. I’d listened to nearly twenty minutes of garbled noise and was debating on hanging up. Silently I dared him to give me solid proof. Let me hear him working or let me hear him doing dirt, either way I’d hear it with my own ears.

I turned off the lights and laid the phone on the pillow beside me, still on speaker, and closed my eyes. Why, God, was this man putting me through this? Every night he goes to work and he’s doing Lord knows what and I sit here and wait on him to decide if, or when, he wants to come home. Frustration was becoming a very familiar feeling these days.

I’d actually started getting used to the unidentifiable white noise when the phone was suddenly quiet. Turning off the speaker phone I turned the audio volume as far up as it’d go, and pressed the phone so hard to my ear that it started burning. I could hear Rah’s voice clearly now. He was ordering food or something. My hands started shaking and I could feel my insides starting to boil. Every damn night I came home from work and, tired or not, I cooked for his ass. Chicken Parmesan, shrimp Alfredo, blackened salmon, you name it. I couldn’t believe he had the nerve to eat out somewhere knowing I was keeping a plate warm for him.

I sat up in the bed and stared blankly ahead. I couldn’t help feeling as though the shadows of our darkened bedroom somehow were laughing at the fool this man was making me out to be. Narrowing my eyes, I listened even more closely to Rah as he asked someone a question. A woman answered. She sounded young. A waitress or a drive-thru chick maybe? She was laughing, saying something back to him. My blood ran cold as ice and my grip on the phone was so tight my fingers had gone numb. My heart tap-danced in my chest at a mile a minute as I listened and waited. The fabric of his pants rubbed back and forth across the speaker, indicating that he was walking. A loud thud followed, as he got into what I suspected was his car. The phone went silent as my piece of shit BlackBerry lost its signal, making me curse out loud.

I didn’t bother calling Rasheed back, or fighting the tears that were slowly burning trails down my cheeks.

Michelle’s conversation was quickly slippin’ from my mind as I watched Honey cross and uncross her legs out the corner of my eye. Michelle knew damn well she wasn’t going to take Trey to no damn ER for a fever. She was just trying to find a way to force me to come home on her schedule and I sure as hell ain’t appreciate that bullshit. I had started heading toward Military Highway but pulled into the abandoned Cedar Grove Shopping Center and parked. I had a few things I wanted to discuss with Honey. We’d been dealin’ with each other for about four months and she definitely seemed like that ride or die chick I needed on my team. I already had Michelle, but she was my business head. Don’t get me wrong. Michelle was a good girl. We went to high school together. I was the bad boy and she was the pretty brain of the school. Niggas flipped out when they found out I was fucking with her.

She held me down, though, even helped a nigga move product sometimes. She wouldn’t let no other nigga even get close to her after I hit that shit. We’d been together for about eight years, hell since we were both sixteen, and when she had my son, Trey, two years ago I knew I couldn’t let her go. She was my one and only baby momma. It was an official done deal. Another nigga could cancel any thought of getting with that shit. She was loyal than a muthafucka to me and me only. Michelle was like Honey in a lot of ways. She was fine and would do anything I asked, or told her to. I guess she just loved me like that. As I put the car into park, I turned to Honey.

“What’s up, baby? You want to do it again?” She had that eager look in her eyes. I couldn’t believe she was ready again so soon.

“Naw, boo, I’ma take care of you for sho, but right now I got to talk to you about some real shit.”

“What’s up?” she asked.

“I’ma ask you something and don’t lie to me.” I was serious. If it was one thing I didn’t tolerate it was a lying bitch. The last bitch who lied to me ain’t looking too good right about now. I sent a few of my soldiers to teach her a lesson. Dumb broad actually laughed in their faces, so they went the extra mile and took a blade to the corners of her mouth, slicing her open from her lip to cheek. That bitch got a permanent smile now, looks like a real-life version of the Joker now. No lie.

“You love me?” I asked her. She paused for a second, like she didn’t know what to say. “What’s the matter, why you actin’ like I just gave you a fucking SAT question or some shit?”

“It’s not that, baby,” she said quietly. “It’s just that I don’t want you to be mad at me, or leave me.”

“What the hell you talkin’ ’bout, girl?”

She took a deep breath. “I mean, if I tell you how I really feel, are you going to get upset and leave me? I don’t want that to happen. You the best thing that’s happened to me. And you the only nigga who give a shit about me.”

“Look, Honey, I ain’t gonna get mad at you. For real the reason I pulled over here to talk to you is ’cause I feel like we need to make this official. You been loyal to me, at least I’m hopin’ so, ’cause the way you was ridin’ my ass tonight kinda got a nigga wonderin’.”

She laughed. “Daddy, I ain’t fucking nobody else. I just wanted to make sure you was happy so you wouldn’t want to go nowhere else. I took a few classes an’ I even went to this sex party.”

“What the fuck you mean a sex party?” I was ready to flip. You mean to tell me the chick I been dickin’ raw been going to fuckin’ orgy parties? I leaned closer to her an’ could feel my hands itchin’ to go ’round her neck should she give me the wrong answer.

She had the look of a wide-eyed, frightened deer and leaned back close to the window in fear. “It was one of those sex toy parties where you can buy vibrators an’ oils an’ stuff. I just asked them a lot of questions so I could learn some stuff, baby. I don’t know that much ’bout sex. I jus’ wanted to learn ways to make you happier wit’ me.”

It wasn’t until she had given me her explanation that I realized how scared she looked. “I’m sorry baby. I ain’t mean to yell at you like that. I just got scared that you was given my shit away.” I was glad she hadn’t said what I was thinking. My chest had felt as if it were about to cave in for a minute. “You been watching them porno tapes I got for you, too, huh?”

She flashed me her pretty smile and shook her head yes. “Yeah, an’ there was a whole lot of shit I want to try. If you up for it?”

“Oh, yeah? We’ll see ’bout that later. Right now, I need an answer from you. You gonna be my girl or what?” I already knew she was gonna say yes, but I wanted to cover my own ass. This way, if she fucked up or crossed any lines that shouldn’t be crossed, she couldn’t use the excuse that she didn’t know it was like that before I whooped her ass. Far as she knew she the only one I was fuckin’ wit’ and she had no reason to think otherwise. The goal is to neva let your side piece know that’s all she is. You get more respect, leeway, and hella more pussy when you got a bitch thinkin’ she number one. Not too many women ever dare cross a nigga like me and, hopefully, it didn’t have to get to that point with Honey. I really liked her and wanted things to stay the way they were. Besides, who would want to mess up such a pretty face?

“Yes,” she answered. “I’ve been your girl since the day you picked me.”

I knew from that moment that I was gonna have everything exactly how I always imagined. I had two fine-ass, loyal women who would do anything to make me happy and I knew just where to put them to work in my life. I didn’t get where I was by being dumb and I did everything for a reason.

I leaned over toward Honey’s seat, waited for her to meet me the rest of the way, and planted a kiss on her lips. The deal was sealed. It was kinda funny, that was the first time I had ever kissed her and I could tell that she realized the importance of it. When you jus’ fuckin’ someone it’s almost like an unspoken rule. You don’t kiss on the mouth and you damn sure don’t eat her pussy. I wanted Honey to know this was something serious. I wanted her to feel like she was special.

“Let’s go get something to eat, then I gotta make a stop. After that I’m gonna take you somewhere and put yo’ ass to sleep.” And that’s exactly what I planned on doing.

I drove across the plaza to the IHOP.

Once we got inside, I decided that I didn’t want to stay. I wanted to hurry and get to a place where I could relax and enjoy my time with her, no interruptions. I had to call and check on my son, and my phone had been blowin’ up so I had to get back in touch with my soldiers to see how business was going.

“Honey, order my usual and get whatever you want. I need to go handle some biz, okay?” I handed her a fifty and winked, knowin’ I wouldn’t be gettin’ any change back.

“Okay, daddy, I’ll be out in a minute.”

I had a few calls to make and I didn’t need an audience. I walked outside and couldn’t help admiring my white Lexus LFA coupe with all-white interior. I hand selected everything on her from the trim to the color of the damn thread holding the leather together. I called her Becky, my white girl. Michelle hated the car. She said it drew too much attention and was too flashy. Hell, that and the fact that I was the only nigga in all of Virginia with one made me like it even more. I climbed in and let the crisp new car and clean leather scent surround me. After pressing the start engine button on the dash I pulled my phone out of my back pocket. Bullshit-ass touch screen was locked up displaying Michelle’s name and number from when I’d spoken to her earlier. I turned it off and back on again and decided to dial Michelle’s number first. Might as well get it over with.

“What, Rasheed?” I was getting used to that tone. She was pissed and would go through hell or high water to make sure I knew it.

“Man, don’t start that shit. What’s going on wit’ my son?” Damn, I didn’t feel like going through this shit right now.

“Oh, now you care. I called you over an hour ago and told you he had a fever. I’m glad you found the time to fit us in. He’s fine.”

I could tell she was frustrated. I had been spending a lot of time away from her. Business had started to pick up all of a sudden. I had acquired a few high-paying clients who were always in need of some product. They were some big-name people so I decided to handle those clients personally, which sometimes had me hanging out at some late-night and overnight parties.

“Baby, don’t act like that.” I tried to calm her down a little bit. “I know I been gone but you know what I been doing. How that mortgage going to get paid if I ain’t handling my shit? Come on now.”

“Whatever, Rasheed.”

That was her favorite response. I acted like I didn’t even hear her. “You miss me? I miss you too. I mean, I ain’t going to lie, I probably won’t be home tonight ’cause I still have a bunch of runs to make, but I promise I’ll be there when you an’ li’l man get home tomorrow.” I was hoping that would be enough to make her feel better.

“Damn, Rasheed, I gotta wait until six o’clock tomorrow to see my own damn man. If you ask me, your little flunkies you out buyin’ late-night snacks and shit for is your damn girl! They get more time with you than me or your son. I can’t believe you would have the nerve to take some bitch out to eat when I’m telling you Trey is sick. Fuck you.” She hung up the phone.

Damn she made me mad sometimes. How the hell did she even know I’d stopped to get food? Fuck! My phone must have dialed out while it was in my pocket. She couldn’t have heard that much, or I doubted she would have been as civil as she jus’ was. I mean, shit, I paid the mortgage, groceries, and her fucking car note. The bitch didn’t wear nothing cheap and neither did my son, but that wasn’t enough for her. I was good to her dumb ass. She was a mortgage specialist for a large bank and I didn’t ever ask her to spend a dime of her fuckin’ money.

When we graduated high school and she wanted to go to expensive-ass Hampton University she didn’t even have to ask; I paid for that shit no questions asked. I didn’t even know what the hell she did with her money, but I knew she didn’t have to spend any of it to live. I took care of all of that and whatever extra. All I wanted from her was to sit back, keep her fuckin’ mouth shut, and just