Baby Momma Drama (35 page)

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Authors: Carl Weber

BOOK: Baby Momma Drama
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When I finally walked in the front door, I was met by the sound of R. Kelly’s music blaring upstairs. I don’t know what it was about that dude, but Monica loved her some R. Kelly. Even after he was accused of child molestation. She played his songs all the time and supported him by buying the CD he did with Jay-Z.
When I reached the top of the stairs, I took a deep breath before I walked into the bedroom. I knew I was gonna have to be real smooth when I approached Monica about this crack issue. She wasn’t stupid at all, and even if she was using crack, the chances of her admitting it to me were slim to none. I figured the best way for me to approach the matter was to pretend I had been tempted to try crack myself. They say no true crackhead wants to smoke alone. When I stepped into the room, I realized that approach was’t gonna be necessary at all.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I screamed.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. Monica was sitting on my bed, sucking on a crack pipe like it was an oxygen mask. I was so mad I couldn’t control myself. I slapped that damn pipe right outta her mouth, sending her in one direction and the pipe in the other.
“Get the fuck out my house! Do you hear me? I said get the fuck out!” I was so mad I was trembling. How could she do this to me? How could she do this to
my
baby? “You’re killing my baby! You bitch!”
My words must have sunk in, because she curled into the fetal position and started crying.
“Oh, God. My baby. What have I done to my baby?” she kept repeating between sobs. She rubbed her hands in slow circles around her belly.
“Don’t act like you give a shit now! You should’ve been thinking about the baby when you were sucking on that glass dick. Now get the fuck outta my house.”
“Please, Dylan. Don’t kick me out. I ain’t got nowhere else to go.”
“Go home to your mother and father.”
“I can’t!” she yelled desperately. “I stole a hundred dollars from my dad and he told me never to come back.”
“Oh, and you steal eighty bucks from me and I should let you stay? You gotta be kidding me. Get the fuck out my house, you crackhead.”
She crawled over to me with a face full of tears.
“Please, Dylan, please don’t kick me out. I’m having your baby, for Christ’s sake,” she sobbed. I ignored her last comment and shoved her toward the door. That’s when she grabbed hold of my sweats and tried to pull them down.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Get off my pants!”
“You always said you wanted me to suck your dick. If you let me stay I’ll suck it every day. I swear.” She tried to pull my pants down again. That’s when I knew she wasn’t a casual user at all. She was a crackhead. Six months ago I couldn’t have paid her a million dollars to perform oral sex on me. Now she was offering to do it every day like I had a lobster dinner in my pants.
“I can’t believe you even said that shit. What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you crazy? Get off me.” I shoved her hands off me, then turned my back. I couldn’t even look at her. “You need some help, Monica. Some serious fucking help.” I bent over and picked up her clothes, tossing them to her. “Now get your shit and get the hell out my house before I throw you out.”
“Dylan, please don’t do this. Please don’t give up on me.”
“It’s too late. I gave up on you when I walked in here and saw that stem in your mouth. You’re a sick woman, Monica. You need help.”
“Then help me, Dylan,” she pleaded. “If not for me, then for the baby’s sake. Just help me. I’ll do whatever you want Just don’t give up on me. I don’t have anyone else.”
Our eyes met, and hers actually reflected the sincerity of what she was saying. She really did want help. So I knelt down on the floor and wrapped my arms around her.
“Okay, okay. Don’t worry, I’m gonna help you and the baby. But you have to be honest with me. Is that baby mine?”
Monica looked me straight in the eye, but she hesitated before she spoke. “Yes, Dylan, the baby’s yours. I swear to God it’s yours.”
I breached a sigh of relief and held her trembling body as I thought about who I should call first to find her some professional help. I was determined to make her well and save our baby.
30
 
Steptanie
 
I’d just come home from work and was about to drive over to the day care and pick up the kids when the doorbell rang. I ran to the door praying it was Travis. I hadn’t heard from him since he left a week ago, and I was beginning to think he wasn’t gonna come home. I can’t even begin to explain how much I missed that man. I opened the front door, and standing right in front of me, grinning like I was supposed to be happy to see him, was Malek.
“What’s up, Shorty? What you doin?”
“What am I doin’?” I snapped in disbelief. “I’m thinking about ways to kill your ass for all the trouble you caused me. What the fuck do you think I’m doin’?”
“Damn, why you so hostile? I made sure your boy Travis’s car wasn’t here before I pulled up.”
“Ain’t nobody ask you to come here, Malek.” I stuck my head out the door and looked both ways. It’d be just my luck that today would be the day Travis decided to come home. “What do you want anyway, Malek? Haven’t you caused enough trouble?”
“I just wanted to see if you were all right. Make sure that nigga Travis didn’t rough you up after I told him about them condoms.”
He had the nerve to laugh. So I reared back and swung at him, but my blow didn’t connect and he laughed even harder. His laughter pissed me off even more. I threw a barrage of punches and slaps at him until I connected, busting his lip.
“Yo, what the fuck’s wrong with you?” He rubbed his hand against his lip and got angry when he saw the blood. “You better chill the fuck out before I knock your ass out. I ain’t that nigga Travis. You better
recognize.
”
“Recognize what? That he’s a man and you’re not? That you’re a loser who can’t keep a job at Home Depot? I mean, tell me what the fuck I’m supposed to recognize, and I will. ’Cause what’s standing in front of me ain’t shit.”
“Oh, so it’s like that, huh? I ain’t shit.”
“You damn right. Now get the fuck off my property before I do something we both might regret.”
“Oh, please. What you gonna do?”
I held the phone so Malek couldn’t see the numbers I was dialing, and called 411. I started talking before the recording even picked up.
“Hello? I need the police at Twenty-one-sixteen Harrogate Road.” I said it in a panic as I smirked at Malek. “What’s the emergency? My daughter’s father just got out his car with a gun. His name? His name is Malek Robinson and he’s driving a white Honda Civic. Please tell them to hurry. I have two children in the house.” I clicked off the phone and glared at Malek. “You wanted to know what I was gonna do, Malek? That’s what I’m gonna do. Now, you probably have about three minutes to get the hell outta here before the cops are all over your ass. And if you don’t, you’re going to jail, ’cause I know you got weed on you.”
“Well, if I’m going to jail, maybe I should slap the shit outta you before the cops get here. At least then I’ll be going to jail for a good reason.” He lifted his hand like he was about to slap me, and I wished I had really dialed 911 instead of information. Thank God he came to his senses and turned toward his car. “This ain’t over, Shorty. Trust me, this ain’t over at all. I’ll be back, and maybe it’ll be when that nigga of yours is home.”
“You know what, Malek? You done fucked with the wrong woman. I’ma get somebody to fuck you up.” My words were tough, but I didn’t have a clue how to back them up. Or did I?
 
 
I knocked on Jasmine’s door for the third time. Derrick finally answered a few seconds later with a shout
“Come in!”
I must’ve been the last person he expected, ’cause when I let myself in, he jumped up and quickly tightened his robe. I couldn’t help but smile, though, because he didn’t get his robe closed around his johnson quick enough, and what I glimpsed was a hell of a lot bigger than anything I would have ever expected. I mean, he was in Malek’s league, and I didn’t think anyone could compare to him. Well, good for Jasmine. Now that I saw what she was working with, I could understand why she stood by Derrick all those years. Shit, the man definitely had something worth waiting for. I was sure she was having a hell of a lot of fun now that he and his big old johnson were back in town.
“Stephanie?” He sounded skittish, though I don’t know why. This was
my
sister’s place, after all. “Jasmine’s not here. She’s at work.”
“I know. I didn’t come to see her. I came to see you.”
“Come to see me? About what?” He kept tightening the belt of his robe nervously. Maybe he was afraid his johnson would pop out and I’d see it again. Okay, so maybe I was having trouble keeping my eyes away from his groin. But you can’t blame a sistah for wanting a little peep show once in a while, can you?
“I got some things to talk to you about.” My eyes finally made their way back up to his face. “But first I gotta use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
You should have seen him. I thought Derrick was gonna break his damn neck trying to leap across the love seat to stop me.
“There’s somebody in there. You gotta use the one upstairs.”
“No, that’s okay. I can wait. It’d be just my luck Jasmine would come home as I was walking down the stairs. I got enough problems. I don’t need my sister thinking I’m trying to get with her man.” Besides, I wanted to know who the hell he was hiding in the downstairs bathroom.
“No, really. You can use the one upstairs. Jazz won’t be home for hours.” He tried to guide me toward the stairs, but I shrugged him off.
“Why you so eager to get me upstairs? You got a girl in there or something?” I took a step toward the bathroom, and he stepped in front of me, which confirmed my suspicions. “You
do
got a girl in there, don’t you? Does my sister know about this?”
He didn’t have time to even make up a lie before the bathroom door opened and a brown-skinned woman about my height and complexion walked out. She looked familiar, but I just couldn’t place her, and she wasn’t about to give me time to figure it out.
“Who the hell are you?” She eyed me from head to toe and sucked her teeth like she owned the place. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was tryin’ to intimidate me. I was about to put her in her place when Derrick cut in.
“Look, Wendy, this is Jasmine’s sister, Stephanie, so will you be quiet?” She actually got the look off her face pretty fast. I guess Derrick was in charge when it came to this wench. He turned to me with a lame attempt at an explanation. “This is not what it looks like, Stephanie.”
“Oh, no? Then what is it? ’Cause it looks like you got some bitch over here in my sister’s place about to get your groove on.” I sucked my teeth, showing a little sister-girl attitude of my own. Derrick was visibly nervous, and he hesitated before he spoke. He knew enough to choose his words wisely.
“Nan, it ain’t nothing like that. You see, Wendy’s my son’s mom. And, well, we were discussing his schooling. Right, Wendy?”
“Yeah, whatever.” She twisted her lips and shrugged. “Look, Derrick, I’m outta here. I need a hundred dollars to buy Tyler some tennis shoes.”
He reached for his wallet on the coffee table and handed her some money. He looked like he was in a big hurry to get her out, ’cause he didn’t even bother to count what he handed her. I guess she’d be getting her nails done with the change.
“Get him a pair of those baby blue Jordans. Like the ones I got last week,” Derrick suggested. Wendy nodded and headed for the door. She didn’t have anything else to say, but she made sure to smirk at me on her way past. I just shook my head and walked into the bathroom. When I came out, Derrick was sitting in the recliner smoking a cigarette.
“Yo, Stephanie.” He put the cigarette down and leaned forward. “I hope we can keep this between us. I mean, your sister and Wendy just don’t get along. Know what I mean?”
No shit. And after seeing Wendy and her stank attitude, I could see why my sister might have a problem. I was about to jump in Derrick’s shit until I remembered why I was there. I needed his help.
“Look, I came over here to ask you for a favor, not to blow you up. Just don’t be hurtin’ my sister.”
“Man, why would I hurt your sister? I love her. Shit, she did a three-year bit with me, so you know I got love for her. It’s just that she don’t get along with Wendy, that’s all. So I gotta keep them apart and see Wendy on the low, if you know what I mean.”
“Whatever, Derrick.”
“For real, Steph,” he insisted. “Ain’t no funny shit going on. My baby takes good care of me.”
“That ain’t none of my business as long as my sister don’t get hurt. Shit, I got my own problems.”
“I heard that.” I know he was relieved to be changing the subject. “So what brings you over here? You said you needed a favor. I didn’t think anyone in your family would ever ask me for a favor.”
“Look, I’m not Big Momma,” I told him. “I don’t care what you do for a living. That’s your business. Only thing I care about is that you take care of my sister.” I glanced at the new entertainment system that had appeared in Jasmine’s living room not long after Derrick got home.

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