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Zaire starts gettin’ antsy. I bounce ’im up and down on my knee to calm ’im. She starts talkin’ baby talk to ’im and he grins and coos at ’er. “Can I hold ’im?”
Bitch, no da fuck you can’t! I hear Chanel’s voice in my head. Ho, it ain’t always ’bout ya selfish ass. I take a deep breath, tell ’er to go wash ’er hands, then reluctantly give ’im to ’er when she returns. She kisses him on his lil’ forehead, then holds ’im up against ’er chest. She starts gettin’ all emotional ’n shit. “Ohmigod, he’s so precious. Kat, we gotta try ’n get ova this shit between us.” I tell ’er not to curse in front of Zaire. She apologizes. “I wanna be in my nephew’s life. And I’d like to be in yours again.”
“That’ll neva happen,” I say, sittin’ back in my seat.
She forces a smile. “We used to be like sistas.”
“Yeah, ’til you dropped ya drawers and fu…screwed my man.”
“That was a big mistake,” she says, wipin’ tears. She has Zaire facin’ ’er sittin’ on ’er knees, doin’ more baby talk. He starts fussin’ ’n fidgetin’. Bitch, he don’t wanna hear that shit. She tries to walkin’ ’round the room, bouncin’ ’im. That doesn’t work eitha.
“He’s hungry,” I say, gettin’ up and takin’ ’im from ’er. I tell ’er to follow me into the kitchen so I can warm his bottle. “So why’d you do it?” It’s a question I neva asked ’er before. It’s a question I neva really wanted the answer to. I just cut ’er off and fought ’er e’ery chance I got ’cause I was hurt. She looks at me confused. I grab a burpin’ pad, then hand it to ’er along wit’ Zaire so she can feed ’im. She’s surprised. And so am I. I repeat the question. “Why’d you have’ta sleep wit’ B-Love?”
“Keepin’ shi…ish real, I was jealous of you. And I was mad that he picked you ova me.”
“Jealous? For what?”
“Anywhere we went da niggas always ended up pressin’ you. You always got all da attention.”
“And so did you.”
“Yeah, but not da way you did. Niggas saw you as the ultimate catch. Yeah, I was a dime. But they saw you as da fifty-cent piece. I used to really be feelin’ some kinda way when we’d be somewhere and muhfuckas would try’n holla at you—first, then me. Or when we’d be walkin’ into a spot, all eyes would be on you, then me. Sometimes I felt like I had’a compete wit’ you. Even though I know that’s not what it was. It was all in my head. Still, I loved you, but secretly hated you for bein’ so eff’n fly. So when B-Love kinda dismissed me for you, I was feelin’ some kinda way. But then I ran into da nigga a few weeks later and he told me on da sly that he wanted to get at me, too. That he’d run me his dick and lace me wit’ wears and paper and shit, but I’d neva be wifey. I wanted da wifey slot, Kat. But he made it clear that only you’d have that title.”
I grunt. “Mmmmph. So you let ya jealousy fu…eff up our relationship all ’cause ya schemin’-ass, hot pussy wanted what I had?”
She nods. “Kat, I was all effed up back then.” And ya slutty-ass probably still is, I think, starin’ at ’er. Zaire has fallen asleep. I get up from my seat, and take ’im from ’er, glancin’ ova at the microwave clock. It reads: 9:27 a.m.
“Listen, I ’preciate you comin’ through wit’ da gifts, and I ’preciate you keepin’ it real. But
, it’s time for you ta bounce, boo. Zaire and I got things to do today.”
She gets up from ’er seat. “Yeah, I need to head back to Brooklyn, anyway. Thanks for lettin’ me see Zaire. He’s such a beautiful baby. I’m really surprised you are actually doin’ this.”
“Doin’ what?”
“Raisin’ ’im. You neva seemed like da type to wanna be tied down wit’ a baby. And we all know how much you hated ya moms.”
“True. And at first I wasn’t beat for ’im. But after seein’ ’im and holdin’ ’im in my arms, I had’a change’a heart. Besides, I didn’t want ya’ll asses to get ’im.”
She shakes ’er head, laughin’. “Of course you didn’t; that’s just you. But, it’s all good. He’s right where he needs to be—wit’ his big sista. I’m glad we had’a chance to talk. I hope we can do it again, soon. I know ya grandmotha and Elise would like to see Zaire, as well.”
I buck my eyes. “Listen, don’t push it. I let you up in here. But don’t get it twisted. I ain’t beat for no family reunion-type shit. I don’t want nuthin’ to do wit’ ya moms.” Kat, it ain’t always ’bout ya selfish-ass. “Not right now, anyway,” I add, shakin’ Chanel’s voice outta my head, again. “Listen, I don’t like you, Patrice. So we ain’t eva gonna be what we used to be. And I ain’t gonna be fake ’bout it. But, I’m not gonna keep you away from Zaire just because I got issues wit’ you.” I know she saw the FOR SALE sign out on the lawn when she pulled up, so she gotta know I’m bouncin’. But since she ain’t mention nuthin’ ’bout it, I ain’t offerin’ shit. The bitch’ll figure it out soon enough when all’a my numbers are changed, again. And there’s no forwardin’ address.
She smiles. “That’s all I ask.” She stares at me for a second, then says, “Kat, people can change. We may not eva get close again. But, hopefully, we can work on bein’ civil to each otha.”
“Sweetie, whateva happens it’s gonna be for da sake of Zaire. That’s it.”
She leans in to kiss Zaire on the cheek. “Thanks.”
“Oh, and—da next time you wanna come through, make sure you call, first. Don’t show up at my door ’cause if you do, you won’t get in.”
“Then you need to answer ya phone.”
Bitch, puhleeze. I swing open the door. “Goodbye Pa…” I stop in midsentence, surprised at who’s standin’ in front of me, preparin’ to ring the bell.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Nigga showin’ up outta da blue…seein’ his face…standin’ in my space…gotta bitch all twisted…nigga wanna make me see…his point’a view…tryna apologize…tryna make amends… bearin’ his soul…offerin’ up his love…tellin’ me shit he’s been dreamin’ of…askin’ me to let ’im love me….
