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“Mmmph, if you say so.”
“Yo, c’mon, baby.”
“’Cmon’ nothing. All of a sudden you getting brand new, acting like you don’t want visits.”
He laughs. “Aye, yo, knock it off. It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“I’m sayin’, baby. You already know what it is. You the only one I’m tryna see, real talk. You should know that shit. How the fuck you think I made it the last four years? You’ve been ridin’ this shit out wit’ a muhfucka faithfully. And that shit says a lot. Those visits kept me sane, baby. They got me through all this shit, feel me? But I’m tired of ’em. I wanna hold you in my arms. Tongue ya sexy ass down, and not have a muhfucka cock-blockin’ me. This shit is almost over, baby. And the next time I see you I want it to be you picking me up at the halfway house so we can slide off and get our fuck on. Period. Thirty days, baby; that’s all. Then it’s on. It’ll go by fast, feel me?”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I finally agree half-heartedly.
All of a sudden my mind starts racing, thinking up crazy shit. Like maybe he’s trying to get brand new ’cause he has some side bitch on his team. I know how niggas do once they’ve finished a bid. They’ll have one chick riding out his whole sentence with him, gassing her ass up to think he’s coming home to her. So she plays her position to only find out that her ass’s been played; that the joke’s been on her all the time. Because the nigga’s got another plan and her ass isn’t a part of it. I feel myself about to go off, feeling the green-eyed monster rearing its ugly head. But I’m smart and sane enough to know that all the messy shit I’m conjuring up is all in my head because of my own guilty conscience. I take a deep breath.
“You know I love you, right?”
Ohhhhkay, where is this going? I wonder, sitting further back on my desk. I nod as if he can see me through the phone. “Yeah,” I reply, pausing. “I know that. And I love you, too.”
“Yo, no secrets, aiight?”
“I wasn’t aware we were keeping any,” I say coolly. I silently hold my breath, anticipating the direction this conversation is headed.
“For better or for worse…we in this, right?”
I know this man loves the hell out of me. “Jasper, do you even have to ask?” I ask indignantly. “Of course we are. We’ve been through too much not to be.”
“No doubt,” he says, pausing. “Yo, so keep it gee, baby. Am I comin’ home to a tight pussy, or am I gonna haveta snap out?”
“Excuuuse me?” I say crossly, trying to act like I didn’t hear what he’s asked. “What did you ask me?”
“I wanna know if you let any muh
fuckas run up in that good shit while I been behind the wall?”
I roll my eyes up in my head, sucking my teeth. Prepare myself for the staged theatrics I’m about to go into. “OhmyGod, I can’t believe you asked me some shit like that. How many times do we have to keep going over this? You keep asking me the same shit, and I keep giving you the same answers. Yes, it’s tight. No, I’m not getting fucked. I’ve been waiting for you. Damn. Why is that so hard for you to believe?”
“’Cause I know how chicks do, that’s why.”
“And I know how niggas do. And I know how you used to do, but you don’t constantly hear me bringing the shit up. Damn.”
“Aye, yo, why you gettin’ all defensive ’n shit? I’m only askin’ a simple question.”
“I’m not getting defensive,” I snap.
“Sounds like it to me.”
“Well, I’m not,” I huff. “But what I’m getting is sick of you asking me the same shit over and over, like you doubt me or something. What if I started asking how many bitches you’ve been writing and calling? Or how many bitches have been coming to see you on the days I don’t?”
“You can ask me that shit all you want. And I’ma keep the shit one hunnid.”
“Oh, like you used to when you were out here fucking around on me?”
“Yo, hol’ up. You not ’bout to flip this shit on me. I fucked up when I was out on the bricks, but that shit’s in the past, yo. I deaded all that lyin’ and cheatin’ shit the last time you caught me out there.”
For some reason my mind drifts back to the last time I caught Jasper’s ass cheating. I was on South Orange Avenue on my way to Livingston Mall, stopped at the traffic light, when I spotted a black Range Rover stopped at the other side of the light facing me. At first I didn’t pay it much attention because there was a chick behind the wheel, but then I glanced at the license plate as it was making a left turn onto South Munn Avenue and realized that the SUV this chick was driving was definitely Jasper’s. I snatched up my cell and started to call his ass, but quickly dismissed the idea and decided to follow her to wherever she was going instead. Ironically, as I’m following his truck, he called me.
“Hello,” I answered, trying my damndest not to start interrogating him.
