Baby Mama From Hell

by Rikenya Hunter

  “Look at me? Look at you right now! You have the nerve to ask me what you’re doing wrong when you’re pregnant and standing on the bed like a crazy person. You go from zero to one hundred real damn quick, and I’m not about to be around all your craziness,” Neron declared as he walked out of our bedroom. I was hot on his heels as I followed in pursuit.

  “That’s all you do is leave. You leave me in this house for days while you’re out probably doing you. I’m tired of you not being there for me emotionally, physically, or sexually. My daughter and I don’t need you,” I shouted, tears streaming down my face.

  I hated when I felt like he had the upper hand, so I always hit him where it hurt. I knew he didn’t play about his daughter, so I knew it would sting. My tongue was powerful.

  “Fuck you mean? My daughter always gonna have her father. I leave to get away from your ass. I’m out,” he yelled, slamming the front door behind him.

  I huffed, puffed, and sat down on the sofa. For the life of me, I didn’t know what I was doing wrong to push him away. I did everything a good woman was supposed to do for her man. When I felt hurt or disrespected by him, I lashed out. It was the Latina in me. He just seemed annoyed by my presence. Anything I did, turned him off.

  I grabbed my blanket from atop the recliner, curled into the fetal position, and decided to take a nap. My daughter kicked away in my belly. I rubbed my stomach as my engagement ring beamed from the sunlight shining through the window. The scent from his T-shirt that I was wearing attacked my nose. I closed my eyes as a few tears slipped down my face. Eventually, sleep took over my entire body.

  Chapter 7

  Neron

  I had to get out of the house. I couldn’t deal with Gabriela and her mood swings. She was a good woman, I’d give her that, but my heart wasn’t in it. I was pushing her away intentionally. It was not fair to her.

  I pulled out of my apartment complex in my 2012 Civic Coupe and drove without a destination. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed my homeboy Quan. Quan always kept it real, and his mama was always throwing down.

  “Yo,” Quan yelled into the phone.

  “Damn boy, what y’all having a party or something?”

  “Mom’s got something going on over here. We got some crabs from Yara’s. You wanna slide through?”

  “Hell yeah! That was actually why I was calling you, anyway. Well, I’ll be there in about ten minutes,” I replied as I drove down University Boulevard.

  “One,” he responded as we hung up.

  Quan and I had been boys since high school. We ran in the same inner circle and both played football. After graduation, we always kept in touch.

  I knew Quan’s Mama Pam would give me some advice on my situation. My parents didn’t believe in having kids out of wedlock. They believed two people should be married before bringing a child into this world. To say they were conservative would be an understatement. I just never imagined having a child with someone I wasn’t in love with. I guess you could say I always saw Kimora as the future mother of my kids.

  About fifteen minutes later, I pulled into Quan’s apartment complex out in Eagle Rock. Quan was sitting outside smoking a cigarette. I approached him and gave him dap.

  “What’s good, pretty boy?” he asked while blowing smoke out of his nose.

  “Shit nothing. I had to get away from Gabriela’s pregnant ass. I need to talk to Mama Pam. I just feel like I’m making all the wrong moves with her,” I said, sitting down on the steps.

  “Dawg, you better than me because no baby is gonna force me into marrying any damn body,” Quan said, laughing so hard that he choked on the smoke he was inhaling.

  “Shit, you have three kids. You need to be settling down,” I added as I smirked.

  “Nah, I’m not with any of my baby mamas. Those broads be doing the most. I like my relationships with my kid's mamas the way it is now. It’s all about the kids. You know I get all three of my babies every weekend. You can still be a good father without marrying Gabriela. You mean well, but that’s a fucked up plan doe.”

  “True, true,” I responded as I stood up.

  “Go on inside, man. Snow crabs on deck. Drink is in the kitchen,” said Quan, flicking his cigarette into the grass.

  “Alright, I’mma go holla at Moms,” I said, walking inside the apartment complex.

  Weed invaded my nostrils as loud music occupied my ears. The apartment was crowded with people. Some were playing cards, drinking, and talking. I made my way through the apartment towards the kitchen where I spotted Mama Pam.

  Pam was like the neighborhood mama to everyone’s kids. She was the woman that sold honey drippers, boiled Cajun peanuts, and candy out of her house. She always threw some type of party at her place. She would comfort you. She would give you advice straight with no chaser. She was that go to woman for anything. Pam was short and thick like the comedian Monique. She had the personality to match as well.

  “Hey, baby. I’m glad to see you,” said Pam as she hugged me. I welcomed her embrace.

  “Hey, Mama. How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine, baby. I’m still truckin’ along. Are you hungry? I know you are. Let me load you up a plate,” Pam said as she grabbed a foil pan and added four big garlic butter covered snow crabs with potatoes, corn, boiled eggs, and a sausage.

  “Thank you, Mama,” I accepted politely grabbing the pan from her hands and sitting down at the kitchen table. She took a seat across from me after she mixed herself a drink.

  “What’s going on with you? How’s Gabriela doing?” she asked.

  “Lord, what is she not doing? She’s hormonal and mean. I’m second guessing being engaged to her,” I replied, biting into my crab leg.

  “Do you love her?” Pam questioned as she sipped her drink.

  “I have love for her because she will be the mother of my child but am I in love with her? Not at all,” I responded as I bit into a potato.

  “You’re setting yourself up for regret and unhappiness, Neron. That’s no way to live. I know you want to give your daughter the best possible situation, but marrying someone you don’t love is actually doing the opposite. You don’t think your daughter will grow up and sense that her father is unhappy? It’s not fair to Gabriela, either. You’re stringing her along and giving her a false sense of hope. Don’t feel compelled to stay with her for your unborn. Don’t disregard your own feelings of happiness, baby. You deserve happiness, too,” Mama Pam advised, concern oozing from her voice.

  “I just don’t know how to break the news to her. I moved her in with me. Plus, Kimora found me on Facebook. I told her about Gabriela and me. She didn’t even respond to the message,” I said in between chews.

  “Well, you need to break the news to Gabriela before the baby arrives. She needs to figure out her living situation since her mother kicked her out. You should let her stay with you until after the baby is born, but if you absolutely can’t do that, bring her here. My door is always open. Obviously, Kimora is shocked. Her high school lover and closest friend hooked up and have a baby on the way. That’s a hard pill to swallow, baby. Give her some time to come around. You sound like you miss her,” said Pam.

  “You are always speaking some real shit,” I added as I smiled and cracked open another crab leg.

  “That’s me all day every day, baby. Real,” she said as she got up, patted my back, and walked out of the kitchen with her drink in her hand.

  I sat eating the remainder of my food. Instantly, I knew Gabriela would not take the news well. I knew she had nowhere to go. I didn’t want to stress her out while she was pregnant with my child, but we’d been living together since right after she told me she was pregnant and I’d been unhappy ever since.

  When I really sat and thought about it, I really didn’t know much about her. She didn’t know much about me either, but she was in love with me. I guess it was because I catered to her, but I only did that because I wanted to make sure my shorty was born healthy. I mentally prepped myse
lf for the dreaded talk I would have to have with Gabriela.

  *

  I kicked it with Quan for a few hours and, after a few shots, I was shit faced! That tequila wasn’t a joke. The get-together had long been over, so I lied down on the couch as the pitch black room was spinning. I knew I was in no condition to drive, and I couldn’t get a ride because Quan was fucking some chick in his room.

  I whipped out my cell phone and jumped on Facebook.

  “Damn I still love her,” was what I typed as a status on my Facebook. I didn’t give a damn anymore. Gabriela was going to find out about her regardless. I went to Kimora’s profile. Since she’d sent me that message, she had updated her profile with a few photos. She was still gorgeous as ever. I felt my dick getting hard as I stared at her sexy smile. I commented on a few photos with either “Beautiful,” or “Those lips.” I had to tell her how I still felt.

  Afterwards, I noticed that I had some notifications on the last status that I had posted. It was fucking Gabriela. She was going off. “Really, nigga! Is this what you do? I got your ass,” was what I slowly read out loud to myself. The words were swimming around on the screen and the liquor coursing throughout my body kept me mellow, so I didn’t even reply to her. I just liked her comment to piss her ass off even more. A few others were commenting, saying I must be drunk.

  I was about to go to bed when I saw I had a notification from Kimora. She replied, “I still love you, too.” She even added a smiley face emoji next to her comment on my status. My heart started beating a mile a minute and I couldn’t believe what I was reading. I was drunk and cheesin’ like I had just won the lottery. I hope my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. I reread it a few more times to make sure it indeed said what I thought. As I reread her reply, a smile crept across my face.

  I just knew Gabriela was going to reply and go ham but, when she didn’t, I figured something had to be up with her. I was going to head home first thing in the morning and dead this shit with her.

  Chapter 8

  Gabriela

  I had just awakened from a long nap, and my stomach was rumbling. I placed my feet down on the floor, stood up, and stretched. I couldn’t believe that I slept for so long, but I felt so much better and rejuvenated. I decided to cook dinner. Cooking and cleaning always relaxed my mind. I turned on the radio as I whipped up a quick Spanish meal: Patatas Bravas. I was craving anything with potatoes.

  After I had fixed my plate, I sat down on the sofa while my plate cooled off. In the meantime, I decided to check my Facebook. I grabbed the laptop from off of the coffee table and logged into my account. After Kimora had contacted me, I was low-key nervous that she would contact Neron, but he didn’t mention it, so I figured she hadn’t.

  I was like a private investigator when it came to my man. I would snoop, slide, and slither throughout his shit because he had my heart. The last thing I would want was to get hurt and be heartbroken. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him, but nothing was wrong with trusting and checking. I trusted him, but I checked to make sure he was on his P’s and Q’s.

  I would snoop through his emails, text messages, calls, and voicemail. I’d cracked his social media account passwords and would pry into his pockets. It was easy because his passwords were his name and birth date.

  I was in utter disbelief when I read Neron’s status on my news feed. I couldn’t believe the nerve of him to be talking about Kimora and having the balls to make a status about it, too. I knew it was her he was referring to because he had no other serious relationships besides her. For her to contact him and he not even mention it to me, pissed me completely off.

  I tossed my plate of food towards his precious 75-inch flat screen television – a gift from his parents after he graduated high school. The potatoes and sauce stuck to the television, slowly sliding down and onto the cream-colored plush carpet. I was sure the sauce would leave a stain.

  I logged out of my account and logged into his Facebook. I quickly went to his messages; saw Kimora’s name, and my heart sunk. Not only did he write her earlier today while his ass was home, but he was currently taking to her …. about me! He wanted to leave me. He didn’t love me. He only proposed and moved me in for our unborn daughter.

  Tears rolled down my flushed face as my hands trembled. He still loved her. He never stopped loving her. I guess this was karma. Everything he had told me had been a lie. I placed my hand on my stomach and felt my daughter move around. I thought I had a family. Everything was becoming too much. I raced as fast as I could toward the kitchen and threw up in the sink.

  I felt beyond nauseous, but I wanted revenge. I wanted him to hurt just as much as he hurt me. I sprinted towards the kitchen and grabbed a butcher knife. I dashed towards our bedroom and opened our closet. I pulled down all of his shoeboxes and began jabbing the knife into his costly Jordans and other name brand shoes until they were unrecognizable. I rushed towards the kitchen, opened the bottom sink cabinet, and pulled out a gallon of bleach. It was nearly full. I darted towards the bedroom and poured bleach on his red and black king size comforter. The bleach ate through the color like a shark biting through human skin.

  I pulled open the dresser drawers and yanked out his boxers, shirts, and socks. I raced towards the closet and ripped down all of his precious name brand clothes as if I was Bernie from the movie, “Waiting to Exhale”. I gathered all of his shit into one big pile in the middle of the floor and unloaded the rest of the gallon of bleach onto it.

  The strong smell of the cleaning agent invaded my nostrils and made my eyes water and burn. I sucked that shit up like a gangsta, sniffed up the snot that was falling from my nose, and dried my eyes. This nigga, Neron, was not about to make my cry, so no punk ass bleach was about to make me produce any tears. I didn’t give a fuck at this point.

  I packed a bag with some clothes and necessities. I wasn’t going to stay where I wasn’t wanted. I took off my ½ ct., round-cut, 14k white gold engagement ring that I cherished so much and placed it on top of the dresser. I placed my key onto the coffee table, turned off all of the lights throughout the place, and quietly left. I had no idea where I was going, or what I was going to do from here on out, but I was not going to be home when Neron got back. That was for damn sure. I loaded up my bags and belly into my Hyundai Sonata. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I cranked up my car and drove with no destination.

  Chapter 9

  Neron

  I couldn’t believe that I was talking to Kimora. It was crazy that she’d admitted to me that she still loved me, too. I believed that she never stopped loving me. We were flirting back and forth on Facebook for about forty minutes when she decided to give me her digits. I called her fine ass immediately. Nigga was still sprung.

  “Hello,” she said into the receiver.

  “Hey, beautiful. I know you just gave me your number, and I hope it’s not too late for me to call. But, I needed to hear your voice,” I confessed as I lay back on the couch, drinking a can of Sprite.

  “Nah, it’s cool. I’m still a night owl. It feels good to hear your voice, too, though. You might look like a pretty boy, but you know I always joked about your voice sounding like Mufasa from The Lion King,” she joked as we howled with laughter.

  “Yeah, yeah. You always used to throw that in my face. On the real, I never stopped loving you. A nigga is sorry for hurting you by getting with Gabriela, but I promise you it wasn’t spiteful,” I said, staring up at the ceiling.

  “It’s okay, Neron. You’ve already explained it,” she comforted.

  “Well, where do you want to take this? Like I know you still got feelings for me and you know I still love your fine ass. The only difference is I’ll have ties to Gabriela because of my daughter,” I said, closing my eyes and listening to the sound of her sultry voice.

  “We have to just take this one day at a time. It’s not like we can just pick up where we left off. Things are really different now. For one thing, I’m in an entire different ci
ty. Secondly, I still can’t believe Gabriela didn’t have the audacity to reply to my message. We were friends since the recess days in elementary school. This entire situation is hard to come to terms with.” I heard her opened a bag of chips to snack on.

  “I’mma be real blunt, Kimora. Gabriela really loves me. She was probably ashamed and embarrassed to face you,” I said as I readjusted the throw pillow behind my head.

  “I guess,” she said as her voice trailed off and she bit into a chip. “Where is she now?”

  “Probably back at the crib. I told you we’re living together, but when I get home I’mma dead that shit.”

  “Well, holla at me once you get all your ducks in a row,” she replied with sarcasm.

  We talked for about an hour catching up on life and everything that had happened since she left Jacksonville. I was surprised to hear that she was working since her father was very wealthy. She said her father paid her very well because she was very good at her job, and she worked strenuous hours since his company was so busy and booming.

  “Well, that’s good that Pops has you working as his receptionist. He’s doing big things,” I complimented as I pulled off my kicks. “So, I guess I’ll talk to you later, huh?”

  “Yeah, we will talk later. Start looking for properties. Open up that shop,” she said with a smile in her voice.

  “I got you. Goodnight, beautiful,” I replied with sincerity.

  “Goodnight,” she said as I ended the call.

  After our phone call, I powered off my phone to save the battery and slept peacefully like a baby – with thoughts of Kimora on my mind.

  *

  I woke up the next day feeling refreshed and in good spirits. I yawned as I sat up and stretched. The smell of maple bacon raided my nostrils. I trotted to the kitchen and saw Mama Pam’s face.