Baby Momma Saga

by Ni'chelle Genovese

  “You said you wanted all the VIP drops to come to you personally. This one is big, it’s for this afternoon. You want me to roll wi’chu on it?” I looked down at Big Baby’s chicken scratch on the back of an old Pizza Hut receipt. I was very familiar with the number. I needed no help handlin’ this one.

  “Nah, my nig, I got it. How ’bout you go invest in some Post-it notes or somethin’, nigga, and stop eatin’ so much fuckin’ Pizza Hut. C’mon let’s get this count out the damn way.” Big Baby’s arm felt like it weighed a solid ton as he dropped it roun’ my shoulder. I couldn’t imagine how the hell any woman survived after a night underneath his oversized ass.

  “Let’s do dis then,” he said, and we both headed down the stairs and entered the room to start the count.

  “’Bout damn time, nigga. Shit, I done told you when we got business, pull the dick out yo’ mouth.” I ain’t even have to look in the direction of the voice ’cause I already knew Derrick’s smart-ass mouth.

  “Nigga, fuck you, I was watchin’ yo’ moms suckin’ my pops,” I threw back.

  “Yeah, well you know my moms is good like that. She learned from yo’ moms.” Derrick never missed a beat. With this fool we could go back and forth all night.

  “Whateva, man. Let’s get this fuckin’ money ’cause I owe yo’ sister for last night.” The room broke out in laughter. We liked to keep the atmosphere light and relaxed, but we all knew it was serious business. Derrick stood up from his chair in the corner and took a seat at the head of the table. I let him run the count and together we counted the end results. He began to call each of the crew members one by one to bring their money and have their cut counted out and given to them. Everything was looking good. We were going to be able to get everything situated and I could get outta here and take care of Michelle and Trey.

  As I looked around the room, mentally doing a head count, I realized that someone was missing. I hadn’t seen Shy Money come or leave. I wasn’t going to interrupt the count, but I made a mental note to ask Derrick if he knew what was up. I knew something wasn’t right. And, damn it, that meant my money wasn’t going to be right. Derrick was doing the last crew member’s count. Most of them had already headed upstairs. Big Baby was the first one to leave. I figured he had plans with one of the strippers. As the last person left, I approached Derrick.

  “Yo, nigga, where Shy Money? He ain’t even show up today. You heard from him?” I was hot. I knew that if I didn’t know anything Derrick better had or somebody was in some shit.

  “Yeah, man, I was waiting for everybody to kick rocks before I talked to you about that. Nigga, Shy got pinched.” He said it with some hesitation.

  “What the hell happened? Did he have anything on him?” I was a little concerned myself. If he had some product on him, it opened a whole lot of doors I wasn’t ready to try to close.

  “Naw, his girl called me earlier,” Derrick explained. “She said they were on the way to the store when a cop pulled them over. She said Shy’s license wasn’t good. This his umpteenth time gettin’ caught drivin’ an’ his shit suspended. Stupid fuck. He ain’t have shit on him, but he had all the money for the count in the glove compartment.”

  “Damn, why didn’t Keisha get it and bring it to you?”

  “Yeah, that would be easy if she had it. She said the cop was an ass, made them get out and searched the car. She said after they found the money, they made her get her purse, took Shy to jail, and called a tow to impound the car.”

  Regardless of him being locked up, he owed me that paper no matter what. He would have to hustle extra hard or take a loan out to repay me the paper the cops confiscated, or I’d have to take his life. You can’t cut nobody slack in this game. Kindness is always taken as weakness, so you treat ere nigga like they ain’t shit. If I let one nigga slide and the rest of ’em caught wind, I’d have ended up gettin’ tried by ere nigga in the camp.

  “Damn, which cop was it? He ain’t on payroll?” I had Norfolk police on lock, but if it was a Virginia Beach bitch that shit was as good as gone.

  “Nah, Keisha said they were out Bayside and she had to walk back home ’cause she ain’t have shit on her, no cell phone, no money, not even some change for the payphone. You know she’s pregnant, too.”

  “So I take it that nigga still locked up?” Shy spent his money like water. He never had anything left between counts. I knew Keisha couldn’t bail him out. I didn’t know what he be doing with his money, but he should have been gettin’ his license straight.

  “Look D, I gotta meet Michelle and li’l man at the crib in a few. Call Jerry and arrange to get the fool out. Once you pick him up, make sure you let him know that he is going to have to put in some extra work to get that shit back. Call me when you done so we can figure out how we gonna fix this shit.”

  I knew Derrick would handle his business. Jerry, our bail bondsman, was on the books so we ain’t even have to worry about actually puttin’ some shit down. Jerry got a li’l something every month whether one of ours had been locked up or not. That way, if it happened, we were already taken care of, no matter how many were locked up at a time.

  “Yeah, Rah, I’ll holla at you later tonight. Make sure you fuck Michelle real good for me.”

  I didn’t even bother to respond. We all knew that would never happen. That was my nigga, though. We had been friends for so long I knew that joking with me like that was his way of saying he loved me. That was my brother. Most of the dudes in my crew were like li’l brothers to me. Regardless of that, though, they knew they had better have my money, and Shy was fuckin’ up.

  Miss-taken Identity

  6

  Michelle hadn’t gotten home yet so I decided to try to be a li’l romantic. I hadn’t done anything nice for her in a minute, so I had to think of something that would stick in her mind for a long time in case I had to be away for a minute. I grabbed the phonebook to look through the restaurant section. As I flipped the pages, I started to think about Honey. I left her at the hotel earlier and told her I had paid for two more days. I arranged for Derrick to pick her up and take her to work and bring her back. She was staying with her cousin, who was a crackhead and always had a bunch of strangers running in and out of her house. Honey couldn’t stand being there so, occasionally, I paid for a hotel room for her for a few days, sometimes a week.

  She had only been working at the Hot Spot for six months. She made good money, but livin’ with a crackhead made it hard to keep any. I decided to call her, just to check on her and to make sure her ass was there.

  “Hey, Angie, it’s Rasheed. Give me room 145.”

  “Hey, Rasheed,” Angie said.

  I knew pretty much everyone who worked there. I had even made a loan to the owners a few months back. It’s all business, baby, all business.

  “She ain’t in the room. She down here at the snack machine. I’ll get her, hold on.”

  I could hear her put the phone down and call Honey’s name.

  “Who is it?” Honey asked.

  “Yo’ future baby daddy,” Angie laughed in response.

  “Hey, baby, you checkin’ up on me?”

  I could hear the smile in her voice. I knew she liked it when I called her out of the blue like that. It made her feel special or important, like I was thinking about her, which I was.

  “You know it. What you gettin’ out the snack machine? Yo’ ass already thick enough, don’t overdo it. You gonna be on stage tryin’ to drop it and drop through the floor. I’ma make you pay for the repairs.”

  “Shut up, crazy,” she said as she laughed. “I just got tired of being in the room. Are you coming through tonight?”

  “Naw, boo. I got some shit to take care of. You just make sure you make that money tonight ’cause yo’ ass definitely need a car. A nigga get tired of drivin’ yo’ ass everywhere. When you gonna drive me around?” I liked fuckin’ with her. I couldn’t mess with Michelle like that. She was too sensitive.

  “As soon as you give me the k
eys to yo’ Lex, nigga!”

  “Hell, naw. Never mind then. I’ma holla at you before the night is over wit’. Derrick should be there to get you in a minute.”

  “All right. Bye, baby.” She hung up the phone.

  I had come across a restaurant that I thought Michelle would like. I had meetings there a few times with the mayor, but I had never taken Michelle there. It was a nice, classy restaurant called Rockefeller’s.

  I called my mom and asked her to keep Trey for the night. I knew she wouldn’t mind ’cause we hadn’t been over to see her in a couple of weeks. Plus, I always broke her off a li’l something when I saw her and she was satisfied, even if it meant she had to miss her Bingo night with her girlfriends. Just as I hung up, Michelle walked through the door. As soon as Trey saw me, he began to squirm in her arms to get down. She let him go and he took off in my direction.

  “Hey, man.” I took him up into my arms; he didn’t say a word. He just put his head on my shoulder and continued to suck his pacifier.

  “He’s tired,” Michelle said. “The daycare worker said he wouldn’t take a nap today. He must have known you were gonna be home today. He’s been all excited and wouldn’t keep still since I picked him up.” She walked over and kissed me. I enjoyed it. But it made me start thinking about shit I didn’t like thinking about. I loved Michelle and my son. I knew they deserved someone to be there with them all the time. I also knew that Michelle deserved someone who would be consistent and faithful to her, but I just wasn’t that nigga. I didn’t even think I would feel right. It’s like having that freedom helps me feel in control. I needed that more than anything.

  “I got a surprise for you,” I told her.

  “Oh, yeah, what is it? Did you buy me something? I hope it ain’t no clothes ’cause you always be picking out that hoochie-lookin’ stuff and you know I don’t dress like that.” Michelle was always in pantsuits or business skirts. I understood her job be on that professional shit, but damn. For once I’d have liked to see her in a damn miniskirt or somethin’ that fit skintight. Don’t get me wrong, she looked damn good in that schoolteacher and pinned-up bun kinda way, but sometimes I just wanted to see her let all that shit go. I was workin’ with all these bitches all day who just let it hang out, and it’s whack to come home to the same old bland shit every damn day.

  “Naw, I get tired of yo’ ass takin’ shit back. You don’t even have the decency to wear the shit once just to satisfy me. I ain’t buying you no more damn clothes. We goin’ out.”

  “I hope it ain’t a club ’cause you know I’ve gotta work in the morning. I can’t stay up all night and then get back up like you.”

  She made me sick sometimes. She couldn’t just keep quiet and just listen to what I had to say before she started assuming and complaining. I was trying to do something nice for her, but she was gonna make me change my mind before she even found out what the surprise was.

  “Shut up, Michelle, damn. I’m taking you to Rockefeller’s.” She shut up all right. She let out a squeal, jumped up, and put her arms around my neck.

  “Oh, baby, I heard about that restaurant. It’s nice. Thank you. Oh my God, what am I gonna wear? I gotta do my hair.” She couldn’t even think straight. She had grabbed the diaper bag and set it on top of the refrigerator. She hadn’t even taken out Trey’s cups. I just shook my head and laughed.

  “Girl, just go upstairs and pick something out for you and me, and start on ya head ’cause I don’t want to hear shit about your hair not looking right when it’s time to go. I’ma put Trey down for a nap. Momma is gonna keep him so we gotta leave a little early to drop him off.” I didn’t even think she heard everything I said, ’cause when I turned around she was nowhere to be found. Women. Especially that one. They were funny as hell, but I loved ’em.

  * * *

  As we pulled into the parking lot of Rockefeller’s, Michelle’s eyes became as wide as fucking walnuts. I figured that tonight I would do the whole gentleman thing. I parked the car and told Michelle to stay where she was. I had to tell her what to do ’cause knowing her fast ass she would have hopped out before I had a chance to be courteous. I walked over to her door and opened it as the valet walked up to take my key. I held out my hand for her to steady herself as she got out. She was smiling. I wanted her to stay that way the rest of the evening.

  “Baby,” she said with a tear in her eye, “this is beautiful.”

  “Just make sure you relax an’ enjoy yourself.” I didn’t want her to be uptight or upset about anything that had been goin’ on over the last few weeks.

  As we were taken to our table, I tipped the host. I knew how to build relationships; if I ever decided to come in here last minute or without a reservation, best believe she would remember the nigga who slipped her a hundred.

  The host smiled with a slight nod and headed back to her station.

  We looked over the menu and wine list as we waited for our waiter. I decided to show some interest in Michelle’s day. I never really asked about her job unless I needed her to do something for me.

  “How was work?” I asked her.

  “Oh my God, baby, we had some crazy shit happen today,” she said as she began to explain. “Somehow, someone had acquired a loan with someone else’s ID and information. Apparently someone stole an ID of someone who looks similar to them, forged pay stubs for a bogus company; they even had a birth certificate and social security card for the person. Anyway, they bought this house, kept it for three months, and then sold it. It took us three months to realize that half of the paperwork was fake. Whoever it is walked away with a profit on a house that was never really theirs. It’s a crazy situation.”

  Listening to her, I got an idea. I had been trying to figure out what to do with the extra money I didn’t want to put into real estate. I didn’t want to open an account in my name; too risky. But I could put it in Michelle’s name.

  Michelle was my girl and I loved and trusted her, but you can’t let your bitch know everything. I needed to stash some money that she wouldn’t know about. I could get Honey to use Michelle’s ID to open an account. Most white people thought all blacks looked alike anyway, and they would be so excited about getting Honey’s money that they wouldn’t really pay attention to the photo. I could get Michelle’s ID and social security card tonight, then pick up Honey in the morning to open the account.

  Honey would do whatever I told her. And I would make sure to be right beside her while she opened it to make sure she didn’t keep any of the account information. I would have her use the address to the club for the account, that way all the bank statements would come to me. And I would keep the ATM card and checkbook. If I needed to make a large withdrawal, I could get Honey to do it. It was perfect.

  The waiter had arrived to take our order. We ordered the veal with capers in an orange garlic glaze and risotto. I couldn’t even tell you if the food was good. I was so excited about my plan. I wanted to eat and go to sleep so I could hurry up and get to tomorrow. I still had business to take care of and needed to get Michelle home and settled so I wouldn’t catch hell when I left to take care of my VIP client.

  I rushed us through the rest of the meal, anxious to get everything rolling. I’d put my phone on silent just in case Honey or anyone else decided to call. Michelle was never suspicious when it didn’t ring, but if my phone rang and I ignored the call she immediately assumed I was trying to avoid talkin’ to one of my side girls in front of her. And she was right.

  “You haven’t said a word in nearly five minutes, Rasheed. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I had an issue earlier wit’ one of my guys gettin’ locked up, an’ he basically left his pregnant girlfriend out in the cold ’cause he ain’t put shit away.” I knew if I played to her gentle nature I could get us outta here in no time.

  “I promised her a small loan to handle they rent and shit until he get out. I forgot to drop it off. That shit can wait, though.” I made a nonchalant nod with my head and took a sip of my
drink.

  “Rasheed, please don’t forget to help that girl. I can’t imagine what she must be going through right now.” It amazes me how women can show so much concern for people they’ve never even met. All it takes is a piss-poor hard-luck story and they ready to be someone’s savior. But Michelle wasn’t foolin’ me. She categorized all the women I dealt with into two categories: fuckable and not fuckable. The only reason she was gung-ho about me helpin’ someone out was ’cause she obviously believed Shy’s girlfriend was unfuckable, otherwise the questioning would have been worse than the Spanish Inquisition.

  $245 later we were finally on our way home. Michelle happy and satisfied and me ready to get the fuck to work. We were waiting for the valet to bring our car around when Michelle caught me off guard.

  “Damn, Rah, what’s goin’ on tonight? No phone calls from the crew, no texts. You ain’t foolin’ me. What you do, put your phone on silent? Who were you scared about calling you?”

  It never fuckin’ failed. I swore Michelle just looked for things to fight over. If my phone rang I was fuckin’ up, if it didn’t ring I was fuckin’ up.

  “Damn, Michelle! I’m tryin’ to put all the bullshit aside an’ spend some quality time wit’ yo’ ass an’ you still wanna trip?”

  A mild-mannered white couple had walked out of the restaurant and were watchin’ us cautiously.

  “You know what? I’m sorry. I think I jus’ drank too much. You know I don’t drink all like that.”

  She pouted up at me and offered her lips to me as a silent apology. I quickly pecked her back, still peeved at the expensive tab and her ungrateful-ass outburst.

  “It’s cool. Let’s just get yo’ tipsy ass home.”

  The Devil Smiles in Your Face

  7

  Rasheed dropped me off at the house and barely kissed me on the cheek before flying off to handle whatever it was that had him so spaced out at dinner. That was so like him. Whenever he felt bad about something he might have done, we’d have an expensive meal or evening out and, as usual, duty would call and off he’d go. I wasn’t buying his whole “Captain Save a Ho” story, but I’d forgotten that I’d made plans to have a girls’ night out with Ris, and was happy we were finished and it wasn’t even nine thirty. I was pretty sure a little hot mouth on the ride home would keep him out of my hair for the rest of the night. He’d be content enough to go handle business and I could still make it out, and he’d be none the wiser.