Page 22 of Stand on That

“Damn friend, that’s crazy. Nine weeks? So, you were like two months.”

“And I had no clue. Anytime I felt sick, I thought it was from drinking too much. I need to take a break from alcohol,” I sighed. “My damn liver is probably screaming for help.”

Hailey chuckled. “I need to be taking one with you. Baby, I was so lit last weekend, I woke up Sunday still drunk as hell. I didn’t even know that was possible. We be having a ball though,” she smiled.

“A ball!” I co-signed with a giggle. The server came with our pitcher of Mimosa’s, and we laughed harder. “Starting tomorrow. We’re taking ten days off from alcohol.”

“Bet,” Hailey nodded. “That baby would have been so cute,” she gushed making me frown.

“Cute and annoying. Babies are a lot of responsibility. I just want to be an adult for a few years without having to take care of anybody but myself. And as much as I love Darius, I get scared. Every time a street nigga goes to the Feds or gets killed, there’s a wife, girlfriend, a few side chicks, and kids always left behind.”

There had been many hood horror stories from jack boys kicking in doors to Feds running up in cribs twenty deep. Cars being riddled with bullets, people killed execution style. I wasn’t naïve to the consequences that came with the life Darius lived. Every time he came in the house and asked me to help him count large sums of money, my throat constricted, and my chest tightened. That money came with a lot attached to it. There was no way I’d ever be one hundred percent comfortable with the way he made his money, and I didn’t want to bring a child into that world. The thought of losing Darius in any capacity made me feel like I couldn’t breathe. There were plenty of days I wished he would just retire from hustling and become a barber for real. Every time my parents mentioned him being a barber I almost asked them what the heck they were talking about.

The trips, clothes, shoes, all of that was nice. But we could live a decent life with him cutting and me braiding. He could also invest. Life just felt like there was a timer attached to it, and I kept waiting for it to go off. Any time things were going too well and I was too happy, I’d become scared out of nowhere. There were days I’d almost have a panic attack because I kept thinking life was too good to be true and at any moment the fallout would come.

“I feel you on that. Nesha’s ass is dealing with that right now. Nook just got sentenced to twenty years, and they have three kids under the age of four.”

“Oh my God.”

My gaze lifted, and I saw one of the servers coming our way with menus in her hand. Behind her was Bree and another female. Bree was scowling like a rank odor had hit her nose as she ogled me, and that made me chuckle.

“Bitter bitch to the left,” I told Hailey, and she looked as they were passing.

“Girlllll,” she drawled. “You left out old. An old bitter bitch.”

From the corner of my eye, I watched Bree and her friend walk to the booth the hostess led them to. “You think he has feelings for her?” I tried to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“Girl, what?” Hailey’s face balled.

“No, I’m saying. He got his car in her name a year ago. That means she’s been around for a lil’ minute. As long as the car is in her name, he has to deal with her in some capacity. I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem like she’s really going anywhere.” I hated to appear insecure, but Hailey knew me better than a lot of people did. I had to be able to keep it real with somebody.

“Vani, please don’t start tripping. She’s been around for a minute putting stuff in her name for him and getting dicked down, but he wifed you in wayyyy less than a year. Darius likes you. You live with him. Not her. You did in a few months what she couldn’t do in a year, and that’s why she’s mad. You’re better than me ‘cus I would have made him give that shit back.”

Her comment made me snicker. “Nah, he can keep it. I feel like if I make him give the car back, it would only be fair that I get one in my name for him. And I don’t know if I’m ready for all that. If we don’t work out, then I have to see his face every month to get the money for the car payment. You know he’s a street nigga, so he’s not using a debit card or no shit like that. Straight cash. He refuses to even get Cash App.”

“Y’all are going to work out,” she waved my comment off. “You’re not going anywhere and neither is he.”

I hoped that was true. I really did, but these days you could never be too sure. I wanted to believe with my whole heart that Darius would never hurt me, but that wasn’t something that I could predict, and that was the scary part.

It was a Sunday. Two weeks after Vani’s miscarriage. We were chilling at the crib. The house was clean, Vani had cooked fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, potato salad, and corn on the cob. We smoked good and fed our faces. My head was in her lap, and we were in the living room watching Snowfall. I was on my stomach using her thigh for a pillow. She smelled so good, I placed a soft kiss on her flesh.

“Alright now. Don’t be trying to start nothing. I’m not bleeding or cramping anymore, but I want to wait a little bit before I have sex.”

“Damn who said anything about sex? I was just kissing my lady.”

“Yeah, getting me all hot and bothered. It has been two weeks since we had sex.”

“So, it’s my fault you’re horny and backed up?”

“Um, it’s nobody’s fault, but you better be horny and backed up too, nigga.” I could tell from the bite in her tone, she was ready to take it there. With a groan I lifted my head.

“Bro, please don’t start. I was joking. I’m horny and backed up too. Fuck is you saying?”

“Don’t curse at me.”

I sat up and shook my head. We could be having the best time and there would always be some lil’ slick comment or something that would make Vani start making threats. I hadn’t cheated on her. I’d been tempted to a few times because I was a man, and there were some pretty ass women walking the streets, but I refrained each and every time. I didn’t need to be praised for being faithful, but nothing frustrated me more than doing the right thing and still being accused of doing some foul shit.

There were a few minutes of awkward silence before Vani spoke. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “Blame it on the hormones. Everything is out of wack right now.”