Kismet

by Raynesha Pittman

  I must really be the coldhearted bitch everyone called me because I wasn’t sad at all when I told her good-bye the next night. I took a hundred pictures of her with my camera phone and kissed her good-bye.

  The next day at that time, she would be arriving in Washington to her new mother and father and I would be writing her sperm donor a letter he would never forget.

  I headed straight to Marcus when I left the hospital and got some weed. He commented on my weight gain, saying I looked thick. If he only knew.

  Just in case Dre had his goons spying on my place, I went and stayed at the Residence Inn in Gwinnett for a week. I stopped at TJ Maxx and grabbed a few outfits, some underwear, two work suits, and some comfortable shoes. Once I made it to the Residence Inn, I didn’t leave, and there really was no need to. There was a laundry room, workout room, outdoor pool, and a minimarket inside. The hotel was made like a small condo so it had an at-home feel.

  My first day there I slept the entire day. I didn’t realize I was that tired until I woke up at four o’clock the next afternoon. I walked over to the desk, grabbed my notebook, and started writing Dre.

  I wrote his name on top. This wasn’t an average nigga I was dealing with, so I tried to use some of the business law I learned while in college mixed with the hood, criminal shit I learned in Los Angeles. I had to be careful about what I wrote, because any errors I made would be like leaving him clues. This time when I left Dre, he would fully understand that I meant it, or he would be hunting me down . . .

  Mr. Andre Burns,

  How are you? Don’t worry about writing me back to tell me because I really don’t care. I’ve heard of women being sprung over dick, but never the other way around. I wonder if it was the way I fucked or sucked you that has you stalking me. You win the best detective of the year award. I did think if I changed my number and terminated my lease, I would be cutting off all ties with you, but I see I was wrong.

  There are some things you are right about; your intelligence has shocked me. You were right about me not giving the letter you wrote me to the police. With all of your connects on the judicial side, I would be wasting my time, and I am not a snitch. I gave Nashville police the letter to buy you time. I was thinking they would hunt down someone else if they saw you had a date for when you were going to turn yourself in. This was a lie, and now I realize you used me as bait. You wanted me to give the police the fake date so you could make other arrangements. You have a full understanding of the law, I see. To address what you wrote in your letter about being in love with me, all I can say is, you know like I know, it wasn’t love. We just have a lot in common and some beautiful sex.

  I’m not ashamed to say the dick was good. I just wish it was connected to a better person, or at least a man who was worth my time. Maybe if you weren’t such a criminal we could have had more, but sorry-ass niggas like you don’t change. I won’t waste this letter bad-talking you and telling you that you ain’t shit; you already know that. What I will tell you is that you were right about me being pregnant by you.

  You were also right about me not wanting you in our daughter’s life. And by the way, that was smooth how you had your friend deliver my pizza to get a status on me. Hats off to you.

  Now that I told you everything you were right about, let me tell you where you are wrong. You were wrong to think that I went into hiding to stop you from knowing I was pregnant. I went into hiding to stop the world from knowing I was pregnant.

  I am not a caring person. My only concern is me and what’s best for me. Your beautiful eight-pound daughter, who looked just like you, will never know either one of us. I hired an out-of-country adoption agency to ship her off to her new parents two days after she was born.

  I know you don’t believe me and will play detective again, and that’s fine, but the next time one of your goons finds me, they will see me alone without a child. I have destroyed all the records of the birth and my pregnancy to prevent you from trying to get her.

  You told me how you would have tried to get custody of your son, so I had to make sure I didn’t leave you the option of getting her. If you still don’t understand what I’m saying to you yet, let me make it simple.

  I am well paid and only use men for sex. Fuck a relationship, love, marriage, the white picket fence, and fuck the dog too. That shit ain’t for me, and neither are you or your child.

  So have a nice life, Dre, and remember not to drop the soap.

  —Savannah

  P.S. The next time you want to find me, you should knock on my door yourself. Don’t send someone to handle your business. When and if you do come knocking, I’ll be waiting.

  Chapter 9

  Can’t Dwell on the Past

  “Fuck fuck fuck!” Tyrone sent me on a trip down memory lane. It had been two years and ten months since I had given birth to Sade. I hadn’t changed my mind about giving her away. I loved having my freedom, and she would have stopped that.

  The first few weeks I had nightmares about Dre finding her and raising her, but they soon stopped. I checked the PO Box for updates every two months and loaded money on the card once a month.

  Sade was beautiful. She had long, pretty hair now with her daddy’s lips. She was going to be a heartbreaker. I just hoped she wasn’t as hot in the ass as I was.

  If anyone in Washington had known Dre, they would be able to look at her and tell she was his. I’m not going to pretend like I thought about her a lot over the years, as running a company kept all my attention. I barely had time for sex. I had fucked only four people over the last two years, and three of the four of them were one-night stands.

  I managed to sleep with Devin once a month because he worked in the building next to mine, so getting a room for lunch instead of eating came easy. Even my revenge plan had been put on the back burner until just recently.

  Whenever I visited my daddy, there was never anyone from my past around. I saw lazy-ass Memphis, who was still selling drugs even though that line of work had gotten him shot. What a stupid motherfucker. You have been arrested and shot over the shit, yet you are still out there all day and night. You deserve everything that comes your way if you’re that dumb.

  So what if he was my brother? I was glad I didn’t inherit the idiot gene he had gotten from my mother. “The love for money, but getting it in all the wrong ways.” I worked hard for mine.

  I realized I always decided to visit Monday through Friday, so I decided to pop up on a Saturday, which turned out to be in my favor. When I pulled up to my daddy’s house, Keisha and Christina were about to pull off. If it weren’t for the ho in them, I would have watched them drive off. Instead, they stalled to see who was driving the pearl-colored Charger with the pearl tint. Not like they knew my Charger was previously black, but I changed my paint and license plate to make it harder for Dre to find me, so my car looked brand new.

  I rolled down my window. “What’s up, Keisha?”

  She pulled over, parked, and then ran up to me. “Damn, Na-Na, it’s been years. Look at you, girl, you are beautiful.”

  I quickly corrected her on the name. “It’s Savannah. I don’t go by Na-Na anymore.” I mustered a fake smile.

  I really wish I could have told her she was looking good too, but it would have been a bold-faced lie. She and Christina looked mid- to late forties. They had a drained look about them. I guess all that fucking, abortions, drinking, and weed smoking had finally caught up with them.

  “Excuse me, Savannah. How are you doing? We need to catch up. Last I heard you had graduated with a master’s degree in something and was running Atlanta. Let me borrow something.” This bitch still talked like she was seventeen years old.

  “Yes, I graduated with a master’s in business and accounting, but I’ve been in California for two years now. I have my own firm here and you’re in a new Malibu. You don’t need any handouts from me.”

  She laughed. “Girl, this is my baby daddy’s car. You know I had a baby by fine-ass Tyrone from the park,
right? Girl, you should come to the barbeque. I know everybody wants to see you. And we can catch up.”

  I was looking my best. I went and got my hair and nails done that morning. It was now shoulder-length and cut into layers. I was wearing bright orange BCBG sandals with a matching bag. It was midsummer. My jean skirt was an extra mini one with a form-fitting shirt that cuffed my breasts. Since the birth of Sade, I had lost fifty pounds and was now 160 pounds.

  “Is it at the park down the street?”

  Christina felt the need to answer. “Yep, and it started about an hour ago. They playing basketball out there. You might want to change your clothes. I know you want to play.” Both of these young-minded, old-looking bitches laughed.

  “No, I don’t play anymore, but I’d love to come. I’m going to run and say hi to my daddy; then I’ll be on my way.”

  Christina looked at me like I was stupid. “Memphis and your daddy went up there thirty minutes ago. When Keisha said everybody was going to be there, she meant it. The only person who ain’t going to be there is her little sister’s smart-ass. She’s off at college.”

  Everybody kept saying, “You and Keisha’s little sister.” Hell, I don’t even remember Keisha having a little sister. Whoever she was, I was proud she made it away from here.

  I jumped in my car and followed them to the park. The street was packed with hood-rich cars. There were a few Malibus, Caprices, Impalas, and Monte Carlos. When I pulled up, everybody turned around to see who was behind the tint.

  I quickly applied an extra layer of lip gloss, got out of the car, and walked to the table my daddy was seated at.

  “Savannah, baby, what you doing here? Come sit down.” That man kept a cigarette in his mouth.

  “I was coming to visit you when Keisha and the girls invited me here. I think I’m going to say hello to a few people before I sit, Daddy. I’ll be back.”

  I headed straight to Keisha, Christina, and Melinda, who were sitting in the middle of everything to keep all the attention on them, as usual. As a teenager, I hated them for always having to be the center of attention, but as an adult, it was just what I needed. My goal for the day was to make every man there want me more than they ever wanted Keisha, and this included Keisha’s, Melinda’s, and Christina’s men.

  “Savannah, what do you do for a living?” Melinda asked, genuinely looking interested, but she was cut off by Christina’s no-class-having ass.

  “Fuck that, we want to know how much you making, rolling up on us in your new Charger and shit with your expensive-ass clothes.”

  Her comment was an indication that she and Keisha had a conversation about me on their way to the park. Normally, I wouldn’t answer that question, but everyone was around. “Just a little over 140K a year, after taxes.”

  The bitch kept coming with the questions. “So you paid to deck your daddy’s house out, huh? It wasn’t the insurance money he got when your granny died, because Memphis didn’t get shit.”

  My daddy told me Memphis had dated her. What in the fuck was he thinking even mentioning to her that my daddy was receiving a check for his mother passing?

  “Yes, I couldn’t convince him to move away from here, so I thought I’d make him a little more comfortable.”

  I excused myself because Stephanie was calling. That was the break I needed from all of Christina’s nosy-ass questions. I had actually forwarded Stephanie’s call to my voice mail and turned my ringer off so I could pretend like I was in conversation, but I really listened to the conversation they were having at the table.

  “I think she’s still a lesbo. Where’s her man or her kids? The bitch is almost thirty. She’s making all that money with nobody to spend it on but her daddy. Something about that picture ain’t right.”

  Listening to Keisha talk, I knew I would have to snap on one of them before today was up, and I would need to do it publicly. Christina would be my victim because I heard her volunteer to question my sexuality for Keisha.

  She waited until Tyrone and the fellas were playing basketball to question me. I stood by the baseline, watching the half court three-on-three game.

  Three out of the six men on the court belonged to one of them, or at least was their baby’s daddy. Tyrone was Keisha’s, Javier was Christina’s, and Anthony, known as Big Ant, was Melinda’s.

  “Girl, you still love basketball. Does your man play? Or does your woman play?”

  There was a roar of laughter. They even called time-out on the court to laugh at Christina’s attempt of calling me out.

  “No, you ignorant bitch, I played. If you could get dick off your mind long enough, you would remember that. To answer your question, no, I don’t fuck women anymore. I take my dicks long and hard. Unlike you, I’m choosy about who I will have a child by, and I don’t want kids. I don’t want marriage, either. All I want is a good fuck every now and then by a nigga who knows what he’s doing. Now if that was your attempt of trying to get at me, I don’t let women eat my pussy anymore, so, sorry.”

  Keisha moved away from her and stood next to me. “Christina, you stupid for asking Na-Na . . . sorry, I meant Savannah, that. She is grown and on her shit. Don’t bring up her past.”

  I took a step away from Keisha and said, “Anything you think you know about me or remember about me, you can throw it out. I’ve been gone over ten years, and a lot has changed.”

  I then turned to the fellas after deciding Javier, Christina’s baby daddy, was going to be my first victim. “Keep playing, y’all, I’ve missed seeing y’all play. That college shit was okay. But it ain’t nothing like seeing some real niggas hoop.” I licked my lips at Javier so he would know what was up, and Big Ant smiled.

  “Damn, girl, you came home country as fuck, but welcome back.”

  I left the cookout with everyone’s respect and everybody’s telephone number.

  * * *

  Keisha called so we could go to the nail shop two weeks later. I treated her to my salon because all she had budgeted for our trip was forty dollars, which was only a polish change at my shop.

  She talked about her and Tyrone the whole time we were being pampered. She did admit they weren’t in a relationship, but you couldn’t tell they weren’t with the way she was checking his voice mails.

  “I stole his password and been checking his shit ever since. I know he’s fucking other bitches. I’d just like to know who.”

  That was the craziest shit I had heard in a long time, but to the average hood bitch, it was normal. Once you had a baby by someone down there, you had ownership of their sex organs. Men felt like their baby mama’s pussy was always theirs, and women felt like they owned the dick.

  I wasn’t enjoying her company at all. I just needed information from the horse’s mouth so I could know how to attack them where it would hurt most. Keisha attempted to apologize again for Christina questioning my sexuality.

  “You know that bitch can’t control her mouth. Between you and me, she and Melinda are both bisexual. They have threesomes together and with other bitches.”

  Being two-faced was one of Keisha’s best qualities. Later that day, she would be bad-mouthing me to the same people she was talking about now. It was her own circle of life.

  “Keisha, I am not worried about Christina. She was and still is a nothing-ass bitch to me. I could buy, sell, and trade her ass on eBay, but I would be wasting my time. She is like soiled laundry. Once it gets that mildew smell, there is nothing left to do but throw it away or tear it into rags.” I didn’t hate her enough to dispose of her, but I would tear her apart.

  “Well, that bitch in jail for the next two weeks. She had to turn herself in for not appearing on some traffic ticket she got.”

  Thank you, big mouth. That was the information I wanted. I texted Javier and asked if he could join me for dinner while sitting with Keisha. I had him meet me at the restaurant at the end of the Santa Monica pier and, of course, he agreed.

  Javier was Mexican, zero percent black, but he carried hims
elf like a black man. He kept his long hair cornrowed to the back, had a goatee that reminded me of a rougher Jon B, and his voice had no traces of an accent.

  He was one of the guys who paid me no attention on our basketball team when we were younger. I won the point guard position over him, and that was all she wrote. Even when I made the final point that won us the championship game in overtime, he celebrated with everybody but me.

  Having sex with him at the end of the night was going to take everything in me, but it must be done. After we ate, I invited him back to my time-share property off Pacific Coast Highway just to smoke and continue the conversation.

  “Damn, Savannah, this yo’ spot?” He looked around at my paintings and statues and didn’t dare touch anything, as if he was nervous he would break something.

  “Yes, this is one of my places. I rent it out to other people when I’m not in it, but everything here is mine. I rent it as a furnished vacation spot. No one can rent it longer than two weeks.” I handed him the weed and asked him to roll up three blunts while I showered.

  “I still can’t wait to see you smoke. You’re so different now. You don’t look like the type to smoke.”

  I smiled, and then headed to the bathroom. I had stopped and gotten a new matching zebra print panty and bra set on my way home. I wrapped myself in my robe and the zebra prints and sat next to him on the couch. We smoked blunt one. I was back in Cali, so the weed was good and worked immediately.

  “Javier, I want to do something to you and with you that I haven’t done since I’ve moved from the South, but I want it to be between us. No one can know about tonight. Christina and I are friends, but I can’t help it that she decided to have a baby by the nigga I’ve always wanted to be with. I just don’t want the wrong person to find out and it get back to her. Like you heard me say at the park, I don’t want anything from you but sex. I do appreciate you paying for the meal, but it wasn’t necessary for what I want. So, can you handle keeping a secret with me? Not even your boys can know.”