Momma's Baby, Daddy's Maybe

by Jamise L. Dames

  “All right. See you later then.”

  Simone didn’t know what she was going to tell Kennedy but she had to come up with something. Although she loved her sister and Miranda, they couldn’t stay. When she said what she had to say to Kennedy all hell was going to break loose. So she decided to prepare herself for round one.

  ~ 7 ~

  What was Simone going to do? She couldn’t turn Miranda away, she was like a sister to them and she had always been there for them. But something had to be done. Hell, she had a life too. They would just have to make do, as they always did. With the two of them together, it was no stopping them. She would just have to give them a month to move out and get on their feet. Neither one of them was broke. Kennedy had plenty of money and she never spent it.

  Simone’s temples began to throb, she was pissed off. She decided to run some errands. Shopping always made her feel better, and she hadn’t been out to the outlets or the mall in New Jersey in a while. She grabbed her coat and headed out the door and ran right into Nigel.

  “Hey, baby, where you going?” he asked, bending down to kiss her on her lips.

  “Oh, Nigel, you scared me. I didn’t know you were coming over. I was about to do some shopping. I’ve got a lot on my mind and I need to deter my thoughts for a while.”

  Nigel stuck out his lips, pretending to pout. “I hope it’s not me. It is, isn’t it? I hope you don’t think I’m moving too fast.”

  “Nigel, please give it a rest because it’s not you. You’re not the problem, believe me. So, would you like to join me? I know how much men hate to shop with women but I’d like it if you came. You might enjoy it.”

  “Sure, baby, whatever you want. And since you hate fighting traffic so much, I’ll drive and it’s my treat.”

  “So what are we standing here doing all this talking for? It’s Sunday, the mall closes at six-thirty,” Simone teased.

  When they arrived, Nigel gave Simone all of his cash and then he headed for the ATM to get more. He told her to go ahead and start shopping and he would catch up because he had a little shopping of his own to do.

  When he walked away she counted what he had given her. Seven hundred dollars. What was she supposed to buy with that? It wasn’t enough. Didn’t he realize that she was shopping as a means of therapy? She put the money in her pocket and decided to use her life-saver—her credit cards.

  Five stores and three hours later, Simone started looking for Nigel. Her previous experience with men had taught her that he was either sitting or eating somewhere. Men didn’t usually enjoy a full day of shopping and only God knew why.

  After scouting out all the benches and sitting areas, Simone tried all the restaurants. No Nigel. Where could he be? She walked past Victoria’s Secret and decided to pick up something sexy to wear for Nigel that night. Fredrick’s of Hollywood would’ve been better because they had the slut-tier stuff men loved so much, but Victoria’s had the quality. All Simone cared about was getting something slinky and going home.

  Entering Victoria’s, she noticed Nigel in the back of the store by the perfume and body spray. She was about to surprise him when she noticed that he was with a younger woman—a pretty younger woman with thick shoulder-length hair, flawlessly shaping her over-made face. She was dressed in almost nothing. Simone decided to take in as much as she could before she interrupted them. They talked, laughed, and talked some more. Innocent. He could just know her. But then she saw the woman in the mirror. Nigel stood beside her and whisked the hair out of her eyes.

  Simone cleared her throat but got no response.

  “Uh-umm. Nigel, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” Simone managed to hide her feelings behind a professional voice that she used on pain-in-the-butt clients.

  Nigel turned around with bulging eyes. The young woman turned around and faced Simone with a Kool-Aid smile. She was the spitting image of Nigel.

  “Hey, Simone. I didn’t expect to see you here. My, today is full of surprises, having my two favorite women in the same place. Simone, this is my daughter, Kaisha.”

  “Oh, I was getting jealous there for a minute. Hello, Kaisha, it’s nice to finally meet you. Nigel speaks highly of you,” Simone replied, hoping she didn’t look as foolish as she felt. She was ashamed for being too judgmental and jealous.

  Kaisha glared at Nigel and turned to Simone and looked her up and down.

  “Hi, Simone, or should I call you Ms. Jacobs? Daddy and I were just talking about you. It’s nice to meet you too,” Kaisha coldly replied.

  “Call me Simone. That’s usually how people refer to me, considering that is my name,” Simone answered very matter-of-factly to let Kaisha know that she wasn’t the least bit intimidated by her. Nigel had warned Simone of Kaisha’s childish behavior toward any woman other than her mother.

  After her little run-in with Nigel’s daughter, Simone told him to meet her by the exit. She was not one to stand around and make small talk, especially with a little heifer who was dressed like a stripper, even if she happened to be Nigel’s daughter.

  Simone shook her head in disgust. That could never be her child. For some reason she pitied Kaisha. Why did she walk around in public the way she did, as though she were allergic to being fully dressed? And if that wasn’t bad enough, she was a little too overweight to be revealing anything. Simone would teach Nigel’s daughter how to dress. If she wanted to be serious with Nigel she had to get to know his daughter. Possibly even like her.

  After an eternity, Nigel finally came out of the mall carrying more bags than Simone had credit cards—and Simone had every credit card that any woman would want. Kaisha followed, smiling as if the world belonged to her. And if all the stuff in the bags was hers, it did. Simone cringed. By the smirk that Kaisha wore on her overpainted face, Nigel had bought everything. As they got closer to the car Simone noticed that some of the overstuffed bags were from baby stores. What in the hell?

  Simone sat in the car, refusing to help Nigel with his load. For a brief moment she questioned disliking Nigel’s daughter but that soon subsided. She could hear her grandmother saying, “Ya betta listen to that woman inside ya, ’cuz she’s tryin’ to tell something to ya soul, child.” Simone laughed. Her grandmother was right. First impressions did matter. She also knew that eventually she’d find out why she disliked Kaisha.

  After Nigel closed the trunk Simone frowned. Why was he putting that stuff in her trunk? True, he had driven, but in her car. All of that stuff wasn’t his. She knew she shouldn’t care because Kaisha was his daughter. Fuck it. I feel how I feel and that’s all to it, Simone thought. She turned up the air conditioner and sat back as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

  “Simone, we’re going to take Kaisha home, if you don’t mind,” Nigel said as he and Kaisha were getting in the car.

  Turning to face Kaisha, Simone asked, “Where do you live, Kaisha?”

  “In Flatbush—”

  “Brooklyn?” Simone asked. The girl had traveled all the way to New Jersey and didn’t have a ride home?

  Nigel sighed loudly.

  Kaisha tilted her pretty face and nodded. “Yep.”

  “Really, baby, it’s not a problem, right? I told her that we’d be more than happy to take her home,” Nigel said with an edge of irritation in his voice.

  “You’re driving, not me. So what are all the bags for? Seems like someone is going to have to serve some hard time wrapping gifts,” Simone said, correcting her own attitude.

  “Gifts?” interjected Kaisha. “What gifts? Ohhh, you saw the bags. Those aren’t gifts. Daddy didn’t tell you? I’m having a baby. I hope you didn’t think I was this fat for nothing. I’m four or five months. I’ll know for sure next week,” Kaisha said and beamed like the sun.

  “A baby? You mean to tell me that you don’t know how far along you are? Four or five months . . . that’s irresponsible.” Simone snapped, unable to contain herself no matter how hard she tried. At that point she didn’t care how petty she l
ooked.

  “Sorry, babe. I forgot to tell you that Kaisha’s pregnant,” Nigel apologized.

  “Obviously,” Simone said, doing a full 180 degree turn to face Kaisha and look her in her defiant eyes. “Why haven’t you gone for prenatal? You did know that you were pregnant, right?” Simone asked, knowing how stupid it sounded. The girl had to know.

  “Yeah,” Kaisha said point-blank.

  “It’s not like it sounds, baby. Kaisha’s just being silly. I taught her better than that. She’s going to do the right thing by that baby, and she knows it. Right, Kaisha?” Nigel said in a disgusted tone, looking at Kaisha through the rearview mirror.

  Kaisha just rolled her eyes.

  * * *

  Simone had Nigel drop her off first and pretended that she needed to go somewhere so that they could switch cars. She didn’t want to be anywhere near Kaisha, and she didn’t want the girl in her car. Outside was baking. The temperature had to be more than a hundred. New York was definitely having a heat wave. Simone stood watching as Nigel unloaded her trunk and loaded his. Kaisha stood fanning her face, complaining that she was thirsty. Simone smirked, told Kaisha to take care of the baby, and loudly added that she was going to get something to drink and walked away.

  After she entered the house Nigel knocked on the door and walked right in.

  “Sorry, baby. I don’t know what’s wrong with Kaisha. I guess the idea of me having a new woman in my life . . . or maybe because she’s pregnant . . . I don’t know. I told her to apologize. I’m really sorry. I wanted you two to hit it off. I want us all to be a family—”

  “No need for you to apologize. No need for her to apologize either. I’m okay, trust me. But, I’ll tell you what. She better not ever speak to me in that tone again. I know she’s your daughter but she is still a woman just like I am and I won’t have it—”

  Nigel rubbed his head and pressed his fist against the bridge of his nose. Aggravation showed on his face. “Simone, no need to get hostile. I’ll handle her. You gotta remember, baby, that Kaisha’s a part of me. I love her and I love you. Not in the same way but still . . . you know what I mean.”

  “No. I don’t. Her being your daughter doesn’t excuse her attitude. If she wants to play the part of a woman, I’ll treat her like one—”

  Nigel’s chest heaved as he raised his voice. “What does that supposed to mean? Is that a threat?”

  Simone crossed her arms. “Look, Nigel. I don’t know why you’re in here getting huffy-puffy with me. I’m not the one who was rude.”

  Nigel banged his fist on the wall. He flared his nostrils, blew and closed his eyes, evidently trying to gain composure. “You’re right, and again, I apologize. Anyway, she’s thirsty. Do you mind if I get her something to drink? The temperature is a hundred and hell outside and I don’t want her to dehydrate, you know . . . with the pregnancy and all.”

  “All I have is wine. Sorry,” Simone lied. She felt giddy because she got the last laugh that day, and worried because she had never seen Nigel so upset.

  * * *

  As Simone was putting her new things away she heard her front door slam, then Kennedy and Miranda’s loud voices. Talking loudly when they thought no one was listening had been their trademark for years. Simone decided to stay put and listen. Kennedy and Miranda could be so close-mouthed. They, especially Kennedy, would tell only what they wanted you to know, which was not much, and usually half truths.

  “These no-good motherfuckin’ men get me so sick. I don’t know how he could’ve done that to you. I never liked him from jump but I couldn’t tell you that. Your head was so deep under the water, all you could hear was the fish talking. Rich was the fish. The barracuda.”

  “Ken, not right now, please. I’m tired, stressed, and all this drama has my stomach turning. I just need to lie down—”

  “Okay, I’m sorry. It’s just that I am so mad. So you go on upstairs and lie down. You can go in my room if you want, the door’s unlocked. I’ll be back tomorrow—call me if you need anything.”

  Simone closed the door to her room loudly behind her to let Miranda know that she was home. The last thing she wanted was to scare her by sneaking up on her. When Simone got downstairs and looked into Miranda’s eyes, she was startled. They were red and swollen, staring into space. Immediately she went over and hugged her.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, knowing full well that she wasn’t.

  “No, not yet. But I will be. I’ll be fine, trust me.”

  “Can I get you anything?”

  Miranda shook her head.

  “Okay. Where’s Kennedy?”

  “She had a date with her friend. She’ll be back tomorrow. I’m just glad someone is happy,” Miranda said and started to cry.

  “Ssh, Miranda, don’t cry. Just go upstairs and lie down, it’ll make you feel a little better. When you’re tired everything seems worse,” Simone said. She would have to wait to talk to Kennedy.

  * * *

  The next afternoon Kennedy walked through the door and saw Simone sitting in the chair.

  “Well, good afternoon. Don’t we look all dolled up and nice,” Kennedy said.

  Simone stood and put her shoes on. “Thanks. Listen, Kennedy, are you busy today? I mean do you have plans for right now? Because I need to talk.”

  “Sure, sis, anything for you. Besides I need to talk too. I can’t wait to tell you about last night, and if I don’t tell someone quick I’m going to burst. How’s Miranda?” Kennedy’s smile faded.

  “She’s fine. She’s upstairs sleeping now. She was up half the night crying. But let’s talk about that in the car. I don’t want her to overhear us talking down here and take it the wrong way. She’s so fragile right now. What happened?” Simone grabbed her bag and keys.

  “I’ll tell you about it when we get to where we’re going. Where are we going anyway?” Kennedy asked.

  Simone pulled Kennedy’s arm and led her to the front door. “Don’t worry about it, just come on. You know we’re going to eat. That’s what we Jacobs women do, eat and talk.”

  * * *

  After Simone and Kennedy sat down at a table, Kennedy was somewhat amazed that her sister had managed to secure a table for them. Justin’s was a known spot owned by Sean Combs a.k.a. P. Diddy, so the reservation list was long.

  “Simone, I didn’t know you had it like that.”

  Simone smiled. “Not really. I’m just lucky enough to handle major clients with major power.”

  Kennedy knocked over the salt shaker. “You handle P. Diddy? Why didn’t you tell me? Do you know how long I’ve waited to come here? Can you get me on the guest list for one of his private parties—”

  “Slow down. I didn’t say that I handled him. You know we have a confidential rule that we don’t break—we don’t tell unless they want us to—”

  “Okay, I got ya. So do you think that you can get me on the guest list for Kennedy plus one?”

  “Stop being a groupie and I’ll see if I can pull some strings. But mind you, I didn’t say that I’ll pull strings with Mr. Combs. Because we don’t publicize who we represent. Okay?” Simone winked and chewed on a breadstick.

  “Cool. So what’s up? What did you want to talk to me about?”

  “You go first, mine can wait. So who was playing in your garden of love last night and got you smiling ear to ear?” Simone playfully asked.

  “It’s not a matter of who. Because you know it was my mystery man. Maybe one day I’ll tell you who he is but one day isn’t today.”

  “I’m listening,” Simone said and rolled her eyes.

  * * *

  For the first time in a long while Kennedy confided in her sister but never revealed Michael’s name. She told Simone how Michael had taken her for a helicopter ride over the city and then out to dinner where he fed her. Simone thought the feeding thing was a little over the top but Kennedy loved it and thought it seductive, which apparently it had been because it landed her in his bed. Kennedy told her how he b
athed her and then massaged her with some aromatherapy oils and then placed steaming hot towels on her back to relax her muscles and release all of her tension. Kennedy squealed and squirmed in her chair as she shared how it felt when he brushed her hair and massaged her scalp.

  Simone fanned her hand in Kennedy’s face. “Damn, Kennedy. This man must really care for you, or he’s just extremely good.” Simone giggled like a schoolgirl sharing her first sexual story.

  Kennedy squirmed in her seat. “No, wait a minute, girl. I haven’t gotten to the good part yet. Let me finish. You ain’t heard nothing yet. This man, this wonderful man, God bless him, gave it to me in a way that I ain’t had in long, long time. I mean he sucked my toes, my knees, my elbows, and everywhere else that requires extra Vaseline to prevent the ashy look that’s never in. Then he went down South—”

  “Down South?”

  “Down South. Come on, Simone, you ain’t that old yet. He went down South. You hear me? He went to the Y.” Kennedy pointed between her legs.

  Simone nodded and Kennedy continued, “Girl, I thought I was going to have to call an ambulance. The brotha wasn’t coming up for air. I thought maybe he had drowned or something.” Kennedy laughed and slapped her leg. “And after that . . . pure heaven. Simone, he had me climbing walls like they were ladders. I couldn’t believe it. After all of that I was drained and I woke up this morning with a semi-hangover. I had to take Alka Seltzer to settle my stomach.”

  Simone sat back and dabbed her forehead with the linen napkin. “Damn, Ken. That’s all I can say is damn. So are you serious about this guy? I mean I know you’ve been seeing him for a little while now,” Simone asked, using the question as an introduction for the real reason they needed to talk.

  “Serious is an understatement. Simone, this man even gave me keys to his house and the alarm code.”

  “So are you going to move in with him?” Simone asked.