Baby Momma Drama (2 page)

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Authors: Carl Weber

BOOK: Baby Momma Drama
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“I’ve got to go to court,” he said, kissing me as he got up and put on his sport coat.
“What kind of lawyer did you say you were?” Big Momma asked him with that tone she used when she thought we were lying.
“I’m a defense attorney. I do mostly legal aid work through the night courts,” he answered, no doubt expecting Big Momma to shut up. But he didn’t know Big Momma at all. She never said anything unless she was going to make a point.
“Ohhhh, so that’s why you leave my grandbaby every night and don’t come home until the wee hours of the morning?”
She lit a cigarette, and that scared the hell outta me. ’Cause when Big Momma lit a cigarette, one thing was for certain: trouble was about to raise its ugly head.
“Big Momma, why you askin’ Derrick all these questions?” I interrupted.
“Hush, child. Let the boy answer for himself. He’s a grown man” She smirked at Derrick. “Well, Derrick, is that why you leave my grandbaby all alone at night?” I could see Derrick sensed trouble, but he still played it pretty cool.
“Yes, ma’am, night court doesn’t close until four o’clock in the morning.”
I sighed with relief. Big Momma was up to something, but Derrick seemed up to the task.
“So I guess you know Judge Jackson and Judge Jones?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ve had a chance to be in both their court-rooms quite a few times,” Derrick answered with confidence, although he did look a little agitated.
“Then how come neither of them seem to know you? They both belong to my bridge club, and I asked about you.” Big Momma tilted her head as she released the smoke from her lungs.
“Well, there’s a lot of lawyers in Richmond, especially in night court. You know the night court judges are pretty busy men.” Derrick was visibly nervous as he glanced back and forth from Big Momma to me. “They probably don’t pay attention to a young lawyer like me.”
“That’s not what Judge Jones said. He told me that night court was actually a very small world and he made it his business to know every lawyer that came into his courtroom.” Big Momma took a long drag on her cigarette, then blew the smoke in Derrick’s face. “How old are you, young man?”
“Twenty-four,” he answered meekly.
“And how old were you when you finished college?” I could see Derrick doing the math in his head.
“Twenty-two.” It sounded almost like a question rather than a statement.
“Lord have mercy. Either you’re the smartest man in the world or the dumbest! ’Cause in addition to college, law school takes three years to complete, and your math don’t add up.” Big Momma shook her head and stared Derrick in the face. “Now, young man, what do you really do for a living?”
Derrick was so embarrassed that he walked straight out the door without saying another word. I got up from my chair to chase him, but Big Momma grabbed my arm.
“Child, if I told you and your sister once, I told you a thousand times. A good man is hard to find, and that is not a good man.” I sat down reluctantly and listened to her lecture.
Derrick didn’t return home for three days, and I was sick to my stomach with worry. It didn’t matter what Big Momma said; it didn’t matter what anyone said. Derrick was a good man. He was probably just a night watchman or factory worker who got caught up in a lie he couldn’t get himself out of. I promised myself right then and there that if God sent him home to me, I would forgive all his lies and be supportive in whatever he really did for a living. But I must admit I never expected what he would finally tell me.
“Hey, baby,” he mumbled, walking past me into the bedroom. I followed behind him and sat on the bed as he opened the closet and pulled out his suitcase.
“What that foul” I asked, taking the suitcase out of his hands.
He looked at me like I’d just asked the craziest question.
“You’re not leaving me, Derrick. I love you too much to let you leave me.”
“Look, Jazz, I’m not a lawyer. I’m the furthest thing from a lawyer.” I could see he was embarrassed.
“I know, and I don’t care if you’re not a lawyer. You lied to impress me? Well, baby, I’m impressed. Not with you being a lawyer, but with you as a man. I love you, Derrick. I just want to be with you.” I walked over and placed my arms around him.
“Jasmine, I love you, too.” He hesitated before continuing. “But baby, I’m a hustler, a drug dealer. When you first met me I was leaving my lawyer’s office trying to beat a possession charge. My lawyer asked me to do him a favor and mail a package.”
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t shocked. For some stupid reason, I never even imagined that he could possibly be a drug dealer. I suppose the tons of cash he always carried should have tipped me off, but I was blinded by my love for this man. He always seemed so mature, nothing like those rough-neck gangbangers whose pants hung halfway down their backsides. I looked up at him. Nothing about him said “drug dealer.”
“Our whole relationship is built on a lie, Jasmine.” He reached for the suitcase.
“That’s not true. Our relationship is built on love.” I felt compelled to reassure him of my love. So without thinking or caring I said, “If you’re a drug dealer, Derrick, then so be it Just make sure you’re the boss and not some unimportant street-corner gangbanger. Be the best drug dealer you can be, ’cause I don’t want my man to be anything but the best” I could see the shock on his face as I pulled him onto the bed. We made love right there, sealing a relationship that would end up with Derrick spending three years of his life behind bars and me traveling up every weekend to see him.
 
 
I was stunned out of my thoughts when the PA system for the bus blared, the driver’s voice announcing that we had arrived at Roanoke Regional Prison. As usual, I got the chills when I looked at the tall, castlelike structure of the prison. This place gave me the creeps. Thank God Derrick only had six months to go.
It took almost an hour before I finally reached the visiting room. By then I was dying to see him. I smiled, eagerly telling the captain I was signing in to visit Derrick Winter. A brief look of jealousy came across his face but disappeared just as quickly. I bet he was wondering why a five-foot-eight-inch-tall, caramel-colored Tyra Banks look-alike would be visiting a convicted drug dealer. Well, it was none of his fucking business. I hated black correction officers more than any law enforcement officers, mostly because of the stories of abuse Derrick had told me. They always seemed to be harder on the black inmates because they needed to prove to the white officers that they weren’t cut from the same cloth. I wanted them all to know that someone like me was out of their class.
The captain flipped through his book, managing to keep one eye on my chest at all times before he found Derrick’s sign-in page. He smirked as he handed me a pen. I almost cursed out loud right then and there when I looked down at the sheet. There on the sign-in sheet for the previous day was Wendy Wood’s name. She was Derrick’s baby’s momma, and I couldn’t stand that bitch. She’d been trying to take Derrick away from me ever since we started goin’ together. I sighed heavily, tempted to turn around and not visit him at all, though I quickly changed my mind. I had traveled three hours to see him, so I was going to stick around to have the satisfaction of cursing his ass out. I stalked into the visiting room and found Derrick sitting at a table, waiting for me.
Even in those orange prison overalls he was so damn fine. I almost wanted to forgive him for Wendy’s little visit. But I couldn’t let him get away with that. I had made too many trips to see him and brought too many pairs of sneakers, not to mention the two and a half years of celibacy I was going through. He wasn’t gonna play me, especially not for that big-ass, weave-wearing bitch he had a baby with. Hell, no!
“Damn, baby, you think you could look any better? Every week you seem to get finer and finer. Mmm, mmm, mmm, come ’ere and give your man a kiss.” He smiled flirtatiously, and I almost melted at the sight of his gorgeous dimples.
He was doing it to me. He was making me blush even though I was mad at him. God, I hated the power he had over me. I was mad. He had done me wrong. Nonetheless, a smile was creeping over my face and I was about to give in as I felt his hands wrap around my waist.
“What the fuck was Wendy doing here?” I pushed him away as I regained my resolve. I could have plenty of attitude when I wanted, and I needed it then. I had to, because he was going to kiss me, and if he did it would have been all over “I asked you a question, Derrick! What the fuck was Wendy doing here?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise, then looked around to see who was watching.
“Sit down and I‘ll tell you,” he ordered me through gritted teeth. “What you tryin’a do, make me look like a punk?” He guided me into a chair.
“This had better be good, Derrick, or this is the last time I bring my black ass to visit you.” I sat down but wouldn’t let him touch me. My hands were trembling with anger.
Derrick was silent for a minute. I was tempted to slap him across that pretty-ass face of his, but I waited for his explanation. Finally, he spoke in a whisper.
“A couple o’ the fellas and I started a little business selling weed to the other inmates. Part of our agreement was that each of us would recruit someone to bring weed up to us each month. Now, baby, you’re my woman, so there was no way I was gonna ask you. I don’t want you gettin’ into no trouble” He smiled.
“But Derrick, why did you have to ask her? You know I can’t stand that bitch.” I was indignant.
“Because she’s stupid enough to do it. Wendy’s not smart like you, baby. She’s nothing but a ho from the street. You’re a college-educated woman.”
He covered his face up with his hands. I wasn’t sure, but I think he was trying to hide some tears. I hated times like this. The last thing I wanted was for my man to feel like he was less than a man.
“Jazz, I love you, baby. It brings tears to my eyes just thinking about you coming up here to see me.” He reached over and touched my hand. “I’m just using Wendy so I can do business. She brought me two ounces of weed yesterday. Do you know how much that’s worth in here?”
I didn’t care how much it was worth. I didn’t like it. Derrick only had six months left to see the parole board. If he got caught, they’d give him another two years as sure as I was looking at him.
“Derrick, this is stupid. You have more than enough money in your commissary. Why do you have to do this?”
“Baby, I can make twenty grand easy in the next six months. I’ll be able to start up a legit business with that kind of cash.” His eyes lit up.
“I thought you were going to college. We don’t need any money. I’m making good money now that they made me supervisor at the post office.”
“Hey, lemme decide what’s right for us. I am supposed to be the man in this relationship, right?” He waited for an answer. “Right, Jasmine?”
I nodded my head weakly.
“Now, that’s my girl.” His voice brightened as he changed the subject. “Come gimme a kiss.” He opened his arms, and I went to him. I sat on his lap and just melted against his chest. Suddenly, Wendy and her little visit were the last things on my mind.
“I miss you, Derrick. I can’t wait till you’re at home.”
“Baby, not as much as I miss you.” He kissed me, and I held on tight. I didn’t want to ever let him go, but the captain had a different idea. He interrupted us with a loud bang on the table with his nightstick.
“Winter, you know the rules. No physical contact after the first five minutes. Don’t make me cut this visit short,” he threatened.
I slid off of Derrick’s lap reluctantly and made sure the captain saw me pouting as I walked back to my side of the table. He made sure I knew he didn’t give a shit when he repeated his warning before walking away.
“I hate him,” I whispered.
“Man, fuck that Uncle Tom motherfucker. I got something for his ass when I get outta here.” Derrick waved his hand like he was swatting flies behind the captain. Then he changed the subject. “Did you bring my comic books?”
“Yeah, I brought them.” I smiled.
Derrick and I shared Thanksgiving dinner in the special mess hall that had been set up for inmates and their visitors. It wasn’t my momma’s smoked turkey but it was all tight. Then we went to what they call the rec room and made small talk for the rest of our visit. There was lots I wanted to say that I couldn’t. I wanted to tell Derrick how much I loved him, how hard it was being without him every day. But I knew I had to keep things casual while I was there. Derrick was hurting as much as I was while we were apart. There was no need for both of us to break down and get all emotional. Especially with all those other inmates around. Derrick let me know early on he couldn’t afford to look soft in front of these people. So there were no tears, just lots of hand-holding and promises about how things would be when he was back on the outside. We would be together again, inseparable. I couldn’t wait for that day. Until then, I’d have to be satisfied with these visits and the small comfort they offered.
2
 
Travis
 
It was Thanksgiving Day and I looked across the dinner table and smiled at my very pregnant girlfriend Stephanie, who was helping her grandmother, Big Momma, with dinner. Stephanie and I met a little over three years ago at a club in Richmond called The Satellite. The Satellite was without question Richmond’s hottest black singles bar and club. It was situated right between cigarette manufacturer Philip Morris, the only place a brother could get a job making over twelve dollars an hour, and the Southside Projects, home of some of the finest single black women in Richmond. The Satellite had the reputation of being the perfect place to find a one-night stand, and that’s exactly what I was looking for the night of my twenty-eighth birthday.

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