by Jahquel J.
Ghost liked to go and check on shit every year to be sure things were moving how they were supposed to. When he had as many people on payroll as he had, he never had to make the trip, but he insisted on being the one to go and see how shit was running. That nigga was a big ass control freak. With his position in the streets, he didn’t even have to trap anymore, but he was still out here doing that shit like he was one of the young niggas trying to get put on. His grind was admirable and made me want to be where he was one day. College was just a side bitch because this fast money had become the love of my life. Why the fuck would I go to college when I was a millionaire and didn’t finish my degree?
“You going alone or you bringing Shakira with you?”
Shakira was always in his ass when he traveled. Ghost took her sometimes and other times he put that shit in a smash and made her stay. I didn’t see why she was traveling all over the place like she didn’t have two kids. At the end of the day it wasn’t my business and I kept myself out of it. “Marisol was telling me how Shakira barked on her about some dumb shit,” I made sure to mention.
Shakira had no respect for anyone who had less than she did. Marisol wasn’t my girl, however the way she spoke to her pissed me the fuck off. “I’ll handle her. Shakira is always so hard on her and I can’t figure out why.”
“Nigga, you need to stop allowing her to talk to Marisol anyway,” Staten stepped in. “That shit low-key be getting me tight. Shakira punishes Marisol because she’s fine. That woman raises your children and never complains.”
“Word. Marisol does it all.”
“So, why you keep playing her like she some scrub ass bitch?” Ghost questioned. “Shorty take care of her kids, work hard as fuck and stay out the drama. Why you so scared to take it there with her? You pressing me over her work issues that has nothing to do with you, but don’t want to make her your girl.”
“Because I don’t want to be responsible for breaking a woman’s heart. I can’t be everything for her and for my nieces. One is going to have to sacrifice and it’s not going to be my nieces.”
“You stay using them as an excuse,” Staten spoke up. “Kiss is about to be eighteen in a few months. You keep using them because you the one scared of getting your heart broken. Kid, you did all you had to do for your nieces and Sandy is proud as fuck, but it’s time for you to start living your life too. You thirty now and ain’t had a serious relationship yet.”
“So.”
“So? Nigga, that shit ain’t even healthy.”
“Staten, you’re the same damn age, why the fuck you don’t have a shorty?”
“Oh, that’s simple. I’m not ready to pass up all this pussy I’m being handed. For the right one, I’d give it all up… trust.”
“Chanel.” Ghost raised his eyebrows.
“Why the fuck did you even bring up Chanel?” Ghost mentioned Staten’s best friend.
“I’m just trying to wrap my brain around the both of you fucking. Why? That’s your best friend.”
Staten liked to pretend that he wasn’t fucking Chanel, but he was. Both me and Ghost already knew they were fucking, and we got it from Staten. One night we were drinking, and Staten got drunk. A drunk man speaks sober thoughts and that’s how we found out that they were fucking.
“Because best friends occasionally fuck. Especially when you look like me and Chanel,” he licked his lips.
“G, have a safe flight and let me know if you need to take care of anything while you’re gone.” I broke up their little squabble about why Staten decided to fuck Chanel.
“Appreciate it. I’ll let you know before I leave out.”
“Ight.” I stood up. “I’m gonna go see how shit moving and then I’m gonna head to the gym.” I dapped them and headed out the barbershop. Getting to the money came first. Since I didn’t get a chance to work out this morning, I was going to hit the gym a little later. Right now, money was calling.
“You had fun with your friends today?” I asked Kiss when she walked into the house. From the cameras in front the house, I saw when her friend dropped her off.
“It was cool.” She shrugged it off and placed her bookbag on the counter. “Where’s Love and Kiki?”
“At cheer practice.”
“Forgot that was today,” she sighed as she plopped down in the chair. I watched as she scrolled through her phone like she didn’t have that phone in her hand all day. She looked up and caught me staring at her. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“I was thinking…” she allowed her voice to trail off. “You should get me a car.”
“A car?”
“Yes, the foreign object you have parked in the garage.”
“Ha, you being a smart ass ain’t gonna get you one any quicker.”
“Ro, all my friends have one at school. I’m always the one bumming a ride when we hang out. I really want a car of my own. I have my permit and you refuse to allow me to get a car.”
I watched as Marisol pulled in front the crib with the girls. Since I was running late, I told her to scoop them up and I would meet her at the crib. I was so busy today, I didn’t get a chance to make it to the gym. If that wasn’t enough, now I had Kiss in my face begging for a damn car like she wasn’t spoiled enough.
“We’ll talk about this another time. Right now, you need to start homework and get ready for school tomorrow.”
“I’m graduating this year and you treat me like I’m a fucking child,” she raised her voice, stomped up the stairs and I heard her room door slam.
“Sandy, please guide me because I’m ‘bout to slap hot fire out of your daughter,” I sighed as I rubbed my temple. Marisol had let herself and the girls in. I could tell from her expression that she was concerned.
“Girls say hi to your uncle and then get ready for dinner. I’ll fix something quick before heading home,” she told them, and they kissed me on the cheek before heading upstairs.
When the girls were out of ear shot, she went in for the kill and asked me a question she had been dying to ask me since she walked in and seen my face. “You alright?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Kiss just being her dramatic self.”
“Teenage fever,” she laughed and washed her hands. “I’m gonna make them something to eat and then I’ll be out your hair.”
“You’re good.”
She was silent as she maneuvered around the kitchen like it was her own. I couldn’t count how many times Marisol had cooked in this kitchen. In a way, it was like it was her kitchen. She knew where everything was, and I often found myself on the phone with her asking where something was.
“So, you think your moms can watch the boys?” Even if I didn’t want to pursue something serious with Marisol, I did like her. I couldn’t ignore what she did for me and my family, even if I wanted to.
“Depends. Why is she watching them?”
“I was thinking we could take a quick trip to the Poconos and chill. G got a cabin out there that I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me using.”
“Are you asking me to go with you to the Poconos?” Even after all I had said, basically insinuating that I wanted her to chill with me, she still wanted me to come right out and ask her to come with me to the Poconos.
“Marisol, will you come with me to the Poconos?” I asked, just like I knew she wanted me to.
A smile spread across her face as she chopped up a green pepper. “I can see if I can get off work. Priest, why do you want me to go? The Poconos is a special and romantic spot for couples. According to you, we’re not together.”
I wanted to tell her that there was no other woman I was fucking, so it had to be her, but I felt that would have been fucked up to say. “Marisol, why else? We fuck around and you could use some time off.”
She nodded her head and tossed the peppers into the pan. “I’m so confused on what we’re doing.”
“I’m not. Two people can fuck, go on vacation and chill without putting a title on it. Why we gotta be something in order
to kick it?”
“I’m not saying that, but do you think it’s fair to me? You think it’s fair for you to string me along when I could find a man that actually wants to be with me?”
“You acting like I force you to come through. You dead ass fronting like you don’t find yourself at my front door too. It’s not me who is stringing you along, have that conversation with yourself first.”
She continued to cook because she knew that shit was true. Marisol knew I wasn’t looking for something serious right now. I didn’t want to be tied down, especially with me having the girls. Yeah, the girls were probably a crutch for me to use, but I felt bad for even trying to move on with a relationship. Relationships took time that I didn’t have. Hell, I barely had time to chill with the girls on my off time. Then, marriage and babies came with relationships and I didn’t want the girls to think I was replacing them. We were all we had, and I didn’t want them to feel like I was starting a new family without them. The shit was complicated and fucked up. The way I thought was a fucked-up way, but it’s how I had been thinking for the last ten years, so if it wasn’t broke, I wasn’t about to fix it.
I found my way around the counter with my arms around Marisol’s thick waist. “Don’t get an attitude and then dub my calls later either,” I whispered in her ear.
I could see the hair on her neck stand up. My presence did something to her. “Why? I’m not obligated to answer your calls.”
“You’re not, but you’ll answer when I call.”
“I know,” she whispered.
I was about to turn her around and place a kiss on her lips, but Kiki came down. I moved back and acted as if I was getting something out the fridge.
“What you making, Mari?”
“Tacos.”
“I’m starving, when will they be done?”
“In a bit. Did you finish your homework?” Kiki sighed and then dragged her ass back upstairs to finish her homework. “Love you too, Kiki,” Marisol called behind her.
“You don’t act like it, Mari,” she replied and the gently closed her bedroom door.
“I got some business to handle in my office. Let me know when the food ready. Oh, and make sure you get your moms to keep an eye on the boys.”
“Uh huh.” She nodded her head and continued cooking. I watched her for a bit, then went into my office to go over the numbers. Ghost knew I was good with numbers, so I was in charge of making sure the monthly numbers continued to rise. With all the shit I had going on, it was a miracle that I had time to wash my ass.
3
Ghost
“Baby, I’m so excited to be here,” Shakira continued to talk my damn ear off as we drove in the limo to my villa.
I had a beach villa right off the coast of Gales Point, Belize. The population was a little under five hundred and was perfect for what I was doing here. I purposely picked a place that tourist didn’t frequent. I didn’t need a place where the tourism was so high. This part of the country was low key. It was known for the farming and fishing, so I fit in perfectly. While I was using my farm to grow opium plants, I also had other shit I was growing. The farmer that lived there and tended to my crops sold what we grew at the local markets and shit. The set up I had going on here was perfect and only a few people knew about it. Shakira didn’t even know why we came here so often. She thought it was because of the five-bedroom villa I had built right on the beach. I had told her it was an investment property and that I was trying to make Gales Point a tourist attraction. The shit was bullshit, but Shakira never gave a fuck about anything that I had going on. All she cared about was how much money it meant so she could shop.
“Babe, are you even listening?” Shakira shook me from my thoughts.
“Nah, I was thinking about something.”
“Marisol still has me pissed. Who does she think she is to take time off for work to go on vacation?” Shakira vented.
I sighed because this had been the topic of conversation since Marisol had asked us for personal time off before we left. Shakira didn’t like Marisol for a number of reasons and they all probably ended with her thinking she wanted to fuck me. Marisol was fine, but I wasn’t looking at her like that. She was cool people and that was it. Not to mention, she was fucking Priest and I wasn’t the type of nigga that liked to share my women with my homies.
“Why you so worried about Marisol? She has a life outside of our children, Shakira. The girl asked for time off to go off and probably have some space to herself. She deals with her kids, then comes and deals with us, I wanted to give her more time off than she asked for.”
I charted a private jet so we could all fly together to Belize. The whole plane ride there Shakira complained about Marisol and issues she was having with her friends. While I was trying to become an honorary member of the miles high club, all she could talk about was our housekeeper. Instead of her being grateful that she was able to take a trip without the kids, she was complaining about a woman that wasn’t worried about her. Marisol wasn’t thinking anything about Shakira. Priest was taking her up to the Poconos and she didn’t have to worry about her kids for the next few days, Shakira was a distant memory in her memory bank.
“She gets paid to do all that she does, Gyson. You’re acting like she does all this shit out the goodness of her heart. She gets paid to do this shit,” she continued to complain.
“When she’s staying late because the girls are sick, is she doing it for the money? Or what about when she fucking picked Summer up from school because she wasn’t feeling well, on her day off from work? You’re acting like Marisol don’t go hard for our family. I’m tired of hearing about the shit and if that’s all you gonna talk about on this trip you can take your ass back to the jet!” I raised my voice and she rolled her eyes at me. “And on the real, start treating that woman with some respect. The way you talk to her is like you’re above her.”
“Um, I am. She cleans my house and takes care of my kids, how am I not above her?” she had the nerve to reply. If I hit women, her ass would have been beat the fuck up back here.
“I don’t give a fuck what a person does. I shake a janitor’s hand just like I would a fucking CEO and you need to do the same shit. Marisol takes care of our crib and makes sure our kids are straight. You should be kissing the ground she fucking walks on, but you too busy trying to prove you’re that bitch and you making yourself look stupid. I didn’t bring you on this trip for this, I’m trying to chill and shit.”
“Be real, Gyson. You brought me along to suck your dick and fuck when you’re in the mood. This is a work trip and I’m cool with that. I’m fine with working on my tan and relaxing.” I didn’t understand what the fuck she needed to relax from? Her life was a vacation, so why the fuck did she need another vacation?
“Maybe you should have brought the girls.” When we left, I was second guessing not bringing them. Before Marisol left, I had her pack their luggage because I wanted to bring them. Shakira insisted on them staying with her parents. According to her, the girls needed to spend more time with her parents. There was so much wrong with that statement that I didn’t bother to get into it before we left, but I was going to make sure to address the shit with my mother on this trip.
The girls were supposed to come first, and Shakira never put them first. Shit, Marisol put them first before her own children at times. That was the one thing I hated about Shakira. How could you float around and not have a hand in raising your children? Besides picking their clothes out – sometimes. When she was in the mood, she was the best mother the girls could have. I loved when I came home and the girls were in the kitchen baking cookies with her. I think that was when we all were the happiest, but it wasn’t often that she did it. The girls went to Marisol before they would go to their own mother and that shit pained me. It wasn’t like she neglected them when she had them alone, but I knew to always keep Marisol around. Shakira couldn’t stay in the house and do the mom thing because she was too busy trying to keep up with everyon
e in Staten Island. If her friends were going to have lunch or going shopping, then she would be right there like she didn’t have two children.
The only time she took the girls out was when her mommy friends were having a play date. Other than that, it was Marisol who handled the day to day for the girls. She dropped them to school, took them to their dance class and picked them up from school. Her life basically revolved around the girls and never did she complain. Truthfully, I think she enjoyed being everything for the girls. When I could, I took over and spent time with my daughters. My time was limited and any time that I did have, it was spent with my girls. I could count on one hand how many times Shakira had picked and dropped the girls from school. Her mother picked them up from school more than she did. The words bad mom would have been sufficient to use, still I hated to use them. If I labeled her a bad mother, what the fuck was I, since I allowed her to live under the same roof as me and continue to exhibit those behaviors?
When she had Rain, we had one nanny. Soon after she had Summer and we went from one-night nanny to three. Why did someone need three people caring for their babies? There were mothers who had less that managed to love and raise their child without a nanny. Marisol started as the housekeeper and then Shakira started giving her tasks that weren’t in her job description. Eventually, I had to stop ignoring that this woman was basically running my home and raising my children and pay her like she was.
Shakira claimed two babies were too much to handle. She didn’t breastfeed because she claimed that it would make her breast sag. It was as if her maternal side had tapped out or never came through or something. There were so many reasons why it took me so long to propose to Shakira. Her family was on my ass to commit to her and I figured to get them off my back that I would. Shakira had been down and knew what my lifestyle was about. She didn’t care, she loved the money more, so it made sense to make her my wife. Marriage was like a business deal, right?
“I knew you would bring this up again,” she folded her arms across her chest and rolled her eyes. “It made no sense to pull them out of school. We need alone time. Sue me for thinking of our relationship.”
