I wasn’t worried about whoever it was getting in because I kept the door locked while I was inside. When I looked at the camera, my eyes tightened. I was in a little disbelief with who I saw. I pressed the button to speak through the camera. At thirty-one weeks pregnant, I didn’t need this stress. “Derrick, what the hell are you doing here?”
He looked up in the direction of the camera where my voice came from. “Pril, is dat you? Bring ya ho ass out here now. I wanna talk to you.”
My face scrunched before I turned to glance at Danika. There was concern etched on her face. “Girl, wha’ da fuck he on?”
This was so unprofessional. In all my years of business, I have never had any drama here. Now here came this nigga with bullshit. “Nigga, if you don’t get the hell out of here. I’m not coming anywhere.”
“Nah, bitch! Get yo’ fuck ass out here. All dat time we been tagetha and ya ass couldn’t hol’ on ta my babies! Man Man come along and ya baby stick!”
Derrick code-switched so much that I often forgot that he was from here. The only time his Geechie really came out was when he was mad. I guess he was mad now.
I grabbed my phone from the holder that it was on. “What the hell are you talking about? Derrick, I’m about to call the police.”
“You want me ta call dem boys? I will, shit! Niggas outcha fool.” Danika had her phone in her hand ready to dial.
Boom! Boom! Boom!Derrick banged on my door again. “Bitch, if you don’t let me in, I ga kick dis fuckin’ door down. I know ya ass was jus’ havin’ abortions. Dats why you couldn’t hol’ my babies. Ya ass was killin’ em.”
Boom!This time he kept his word and kicked the door. I told Danika to go ahead and call the police. I made a call of my own.
Chapter 9
Tafari
Not Da Mama . . .
“Yeah, Lacie wanted ta have a natural birth, but our baby girls weren’t having dat shit. Women are serious ’bout dat shit. I had ta calm her down too,” Vince recalled.
I was at Vince’s house in his man cave. My baby had a few more appointments before I headed that way to shut her ass down. She was slick as fuck with those appointments. Ever since I had access to her little calendar, she tried to take side appointments and not put them on the book. I wasn’t sure why she didn’t understand that I would embarrass her ass every time when it came to her and my baby girl’s health.
“Yeah, her ass really wanted da natural. Hell, dat was after Dr. Frog tol’ ha no to a home birth. Who da fuck was ga be in here wit’ a blowup pool talkin’ ’bout push?” I said with my head bucked back.
Pril had me fucked up. It wasn’t that I didn’t want her to have her dream birthing plan, but we had to be realistic considering her medical situation. Dr. Frog shut that shit down so fast, but she did offer a compromise.Christianson’s Birthing Centerwas that compromise.
Retired pro-baller, Liam Christianson’s mother owned a few birthing centers that partnered with hospitals for the care of expecting mothers. The particular center that Dr. Frog told us about was connected to the hospital that we planned to have our daughter at. Khiaere Washington and Trell Smith, who were co-founders and owners ofWashington-Smith Brokerage Firm, sat on the hospital’s board of directors. They both were connected to the Christianson family and helped broker the deal between the birthing center and the hospitals.
The other centers were either next door or across the street from a partnering hospital. Those families were fucking billionaires and did so much in the community to support black health, wellness, and prosperity. I had an account with the brokerage firm that increased every quarter. I wasn’t at millionaire status yet, but it would come.
“Damn, you wasn’t ga climb in da pool wit’ ya wife, Cuz?” Jordan asked with a titter. “Dats messed up.”
My face contorted. “Nigga, stop actin’ like you ga do it when Nicole drop y’all baby. We ga be in a calming room inChristianson’s Birthing Center. She ga have all da luxury that they provide. We still ga have to come out of pocket because her private medical insurance sucks ass. As soon as we get married, I doin’ a life change ta add her on my coverage that I got for my company.”
My baby’s insurance was that fifty-fifty bullshit. It worked for her at the time because although she had endometriosis, she didn’t go to the doctor any more than normal. It was her prescriptions that she really needed it for.
“Private medical insurance cost ain’t no joke, boy. Dats why a lot of people feel locked into dem white people jobs. Dey need the benefits when dey really wanna be outcha running dey own business,” Roy pointed out.
He had a point. When I shopped for the company that would support my employees’ benefits, I was shocked by how much it would cost me. I thanked God that I had a successful business that could offer my employees insurance. It wasn’t the same as a big corporation offering insurance. Their price point was way different than a business under a certain head count.
“Shit, y’all ain’t got too much longer fa da baby or da wedding.” Vince raised his glass. “To time flying in da name of happiness and love.”
We all raised our glasses to the toast. He was right. My baby was already thirty-one weeks. My daughter would be here before we knew it. The wedding was all set. The ladies had their dresses, and me and my boys had our tuxedos. Zoie and Chloe were our flower girls.
“I can’t wait ta change her last fuckin’ name. We got our marriage license a few days ago. It took everything in me ta not just go a few doors down and let da judge do ’em,” I told them.
They all chuckled. “Shit, me and Lacie already been married at our wedding. No one knew, but us, da witnesses at da courthouse, da clerk, and da judge. We ain’t had even know the witnesses. I couldn’t wait either.”
“Boy, no! How I ain’t even know dat and I’m ya best friend!” Jordan sounded hurt.
I laughed. “Don’t be too hurt, Cuz. You can do da same thing.”
