I found parking and we walked up the block to the house. I was glad that all of my friends, including me, were looking quite fabulous. I could always count on my girls to represent.

  When Kevin walked up to meet us, their mouths dropped. Saadia nudged me on the arm.

  “Phoenix,” she said, looking at Kevin with a smile on her face. “That man is going to be your husband, girl.”

  I was already one step ahead of her, with a big smile on my face. “I hope so, Saadia. I hope so.”

  Chapter 22

  Get It Right

  Ebony

  I had every intention of spending a quiet weekend at home but when Phoenix invited me out, I couldn’t pass up on an opportunity to hang out with my girls. I was just glad that Shah was still at my house when she called me.

  Speaking of my baby daddy, Shah seemed pretty content during his brief visit with Kare and me. I knew that Kare was happy with the arrangement. That little boy couldn’t contain his excitement when he got up and saw his father that morning.

  “Daddy!” Kare screamed, jumping into Shah’s arms. “What are you doing here? Do you live at my house now?” he asked.

  Shah glanced at me. “No, I don’t live here, baby boy. I just came to visit you and Mommy,” he replied.

  Kare hugged his father’s neck. “Dang! I want you to live here, Daddy!”

  Shah looked at me again but I didn’t want to give him any eye contact. I wasn’t really sure what Shah was up to but it did feel good having a man around.

  It would have been great to have Shah in my son’s life on a full-time basis. Kare would have loved that and my son’s happiness meant everything to me. So instead of having that much-needed discussion about what was going on between him and me, we spent the early part of that Saturday morning making it all about Kare and nothing else. Whatever we needed to talk about was going to have to wait.

  When we walked into Kevin’s friend’s house, I felt like a kid in a candy store! There was nothing but a bunch of fine-ass “menses,” in assorted flavors, looking absolutely delicious. And that Kevin fellow? From the looks of it, my girl Phoenix hit the jackpot with him. She introduced all of us to him. Then he introduced us to his friends, including Duke, who was the host of the fight party. All of the guests, the host, and Kevin seemed cooler than a fan.

  Thirty minutes later, there I was standing around with the rest of the guests, rooting for my opponent and waiting for the main event. Instead of mingling like I usually do, I was chilling out and standing off to the side. I just cased the large entertainment room with my eyes.

  In one corner, the young girl, Saadia, my protégé, was sucking up every bit of the male attention that she was getting. She was enjoying every minute of it, too—I could tell by her body language that she was feeling flirty. I didn’t blame her. And the guys she was entertaining seemed like they were hanging on to her every word.

  Attagirl! I said to myself.

  On the other side of the room, Capri, who was looking as cute as a button, seemed like she was engaged in some deep conversation with two handsome chocolate-skinned brothers. Lucky her!

  As for me, I kept my distance from the guys. Phoenix had given me instructions and I, being the devoted and loyal friend that I am, didn’t want any problems with Her Majesty. Besides, did I really need to start up another fuckship with yet another guy? I didn’t think so. My plate was already too damn full and I had enough sex partners to last me a lifetime.

  About an hour later, it was ten o’clock and the main event was about to come on the Pay-Per-View channel. The first round began and all eyes were on the forty-seven-inch LED television. From the way that Kevin and his friends were carrying on, you would have thought that they had bet a shitload of money on Floyd Mayweather. Not one person was rooting for Manny Pacquiao.

  I loved boxing probably just as much as I loved men so I was definitely in on the hype. I had even made a small wager with Kevin’s friend, Duke. I bet twenty-five dollars that Floyd was going to knock out his opponent in the third round. Duke insisted that it was the fifth round.

  “Girl, you’re crazy! Manny is a pretty good fighter . . . The third round is impossible! I say that Pretty Boy is probably going to knock Manny out in the fifth round! And I want my twenty-five dollars, too,” Duke said, with a smirk on his face.

  I stopped mid-cheer to look at him like he was a damn fool. “Man, Pretty Boy is going to knock Manny out in the third round—guaranteed!” I said, talking over the screaming and yelling of the other guests.

  Duke threw his head all the way back and laughed at me. “Yeah, okay! You’re lucky you’re cute or else I would have told you about yourself!”

  I felt a flirt coming on but all I kept hearing in the back of my head was Phoenix’s annoying ass voice. Act like y’all got some sense—Ebony! The queen has spoken! But from the looks of Duke, with his caramel skin, that neatly-lined full beard, and those pretty-ass lips of his, it was going to be hard as hell to be a good girl. Damn that Phoenix! She was such a cock blocker.

  Forty-minutes later, we were still watching that television, waiting for a TKO. Floyd and Manny were still fighting. And it was the fifth round, too, much to my dismay. Manny was taking his ass whooping like a champ. Duke continued to talk trash to me and I told him that I wasn’t giving up no cash for the bet I had lost.

  Now, my conversation with Duke was purely innocent, at least I thought so. But of course, when I glanced over at Phoenix, Ms. Killjoy, she was staring at me with the mad face like I was doing something wrong. She made a gesture for me to come over to where she was sitting. I had this funny feeling that Phoenix and I were going to have it out before the night ended.

  As I was about to walk over to Phoenix, Duke grabbed my hand.

  “Where do you think you’re going?’ he asked, with a flirtatious look on his face.

  I instantly began blushing. “Let go of my hand, Duke! I have to tell my girlfriend something,” I said, pointing at Phoenix, who was sitting on Kevin’s lap.

  I could tell that Phoenix was getting more and more impatient by the minute. She kept trying to get my attention but I purposely wasn’t paying her no mind. That Duke was much more interesting.

  “You don’t have to go over there with them!” Duke said. “Kev Wright is keeping your girl busy. Stay right here and talk to me.”

  Damn, I was so tempted.

  I immediately changed the subject. “You have a really nice house here,” I told him, looking around at the décor and ignoring my angry-looking friend.

  Duke took a swig of his Heineken and rubbed my arm. “Aw, thank you, babe. Not only are you’re very attractive but you have some great taste,” he said, licking his lips. “But then again, so do I.”

  I giggled and playfully slapped his arm. “You are just the cutest!”

  Suddenly, from the corner of my eye, I saw Phoenix walking toward me. She told Duke to excuse us for a minute and snatched me by the arm. She pulled me into the empty kitchen area.

  “What the hell are you doing out there?” Phoenix asked, with an agitated look on her face.

  I shrugged my shoulders, confused by her reaction. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m having a good time at a fight party!”

  “I told your ass not to come to this party acting like some fucking ho! Why is it everywhere we go, you have to be up in some man’s face, huh?” she asked, talking through clenched teeth.

  At first, I thought that Phoenix was joking with me. But from the tone of her voice, the fiery rage in her eyes, I realized that she was dead-ass serious! Now I had a very good sense of humor and had always been a good sport when it came to her slick talking but this Pacquiao/Mayweather fight night was about to be my defining moment. I was going to let this bitch have it! No longer was I going to tolerate Phoenix’s wisecracks about how many men I slept with and I damn sure wasn’t about to let nobody scold my grown ass like I was a child. I was tired of her putting me down to build herself up especially when she didn’t have the best track record when it came to men.

  I slammed my cup onto the counter and my drink splashed all over my hand. Phoenix had truly pissed me off.

  “Whoa! Wait one got-damn minute, missy! Aren’t you the bitch who asked me to come to this here little shindig?” I asked, looking at her in amazement. “If I knew that you were going to act like a fool, I would have stayed my ass at home! And I never had any intentions on coming here to meet no fucking man—I have enough guy problems! Like I said, all that I was doing was having a good time! I came here to represent you and now you’re acting like this to me?”

  Phoenix began pacing around the empty kitchen. I could tell that she was thinking of a valid reason for her actions. But she didn’t have a leg to stand on and she knew it.

  “Look, Ebony, what I’m trying to say is that I finally met someone that I really like and I want to make a good impression on him! That’s why I don’t need you to be running around here, flirting with his friends and making a fool of me, or yourself for that matter! I don’t want Kevin to think that I associate myself with, with the bullshit!”

  I chuckled at the irony of her statement. Phoenix had been nothing but a drama queen and a slut most of her adult life but I never judged the wench—not once. Now she had the nerve to be calling me out on my shit.

  I put my hands on my hips. “Ain’t this about a bitch? You’re worried that Kevin is going to think that you’re a ho like me, right?” I was disgusted. “All of this just goes to show what you really think of me. You think that I’m not good enough to be around your precious Kevin and his fucking friends!” I chuckled again. “But it’s all good, girlfriend! You can have all of this shit!” I yelled, waving my hands like a madwoman. “I’m getting the fuck outta here! Fuck you, Phoenix!” I said, flipping her the bird for the full effect.

  Upset, I burst out of the kitchen. Of course, everyone was staring at me, trying to figure out what was going on.

  “Ebony, wait! I didn’t . . .” Phoenix shouted out to me. But I wasn’t trying to hear anything she said. I was out of there.

  By the time I walked outside, I was crying like a baby. I couldn’t believe that my best friend, a woman that I trusted with my life, really thought the worst of me.

  I walked briskly toward Guy Brewer Boulevard to hail me a cab. Meanwhile, my cell phone was ringing like crazy. It was Phoenix. She must have called me like three times and I pressed ignore on every one of her calls, sending her right into my voicemail. She left me a message every time and I deleted those. The young girl Saadia even tried her hand at calling me. I knew that she was calling me for Phoenix. I sent her ass to voicemail too. I just didn’t feel like talking to any of them.

  After standing on the corner for ten long minutes, I was able to flag down a livery cab. I got into the back seat and gave him my Brooklyn address.

  “That’ll be twenty dollars, miss,” the cab driver said.

  “That’s fine,” I replied, still wiping tears from my eyes.

  I felt like a piece of shit on the ride home. And I couldn’t wait to kick that damn Shah out of my house, too. I didn’t want him looking in my face and asking me 101 questions. I needed some me time to really think things over.

  Chapter 23

  Be Without You

  Joi

  It was Friday, April 29, 2011, six days after I had taken the liberty and swabbed Taiwan and Chasity. It had been a very rough and emotional week for me. I hadn’t expected to feel guilty as hell but I did. There I was putting my relationship on the line, for the sake of knocking this tramp Dara out of the box once and for all. I had to be blind, crippled, and crazy to take such a risk but hey, I wasn’t blind or crippled. I was just plain crazy—crazy for loving Tate the way I did.

  As to be expected, I couldn’t stop thinking about the results of the DNA test. What if Chasity was really Tate’s daughter? I found myself obsessing over it.

  After doing the test on Chasity’s five-year-old “uncle,” Taiwan, I also worried about the test results being inconclusive. A more precise DNA sample would have had to come from one of Chasity’s parents but that would have been freaking impossible for me to get. Thank God, Taiwan was definitely Tate’s baby brother—his father had taken care of his own DNA test and it came back positive. So the funny-looking little boy was definitely my saving grace.

  Then there was also the empathetic side of me that knew if Tate found out that Chasity was not his real daughter, he would be crushed. After all, he had invested a lot of time in being the perfect father to the little girl.

  Now back to the insane, completely fed-the-fuck-up side of me. That part of me said fuck Chasity and her mother, too! If Tate wasn’t the girl’s real daddy then Dara’s whorish ass would have the responsibility of raising an illegitimate child all by herself. And poor, innocent Chasity. She would probably never know who her real dad was but that wasn’t Tate’s problem. Maybe Dara could go on The Maury Show and find out who her daughter’s daddy was.

  I just prayed that nothing backfired on me.

  The day the test arrived, I came home from work and saw the FedEx tag on my door. My heart began beating. The delivery guy had left the package with one of my neighbors, nosey-ass Miss Wanda. I rang Miss Wanda’s doorbell and she opened the door with my package in her hand.

  “Hey, baby,” she said, with a huge smile on her face. Between the gold tooth and the platinum-grey hair pinned up in a bun, she was an odd-looking old thing. I wanted to laugh but I held my composure. “Is everything okay with you?” Miss Wanda asked, with this suspicious look on her face. Her big eyes were wide open and the false eyelashes were fluttering. I figured that she had already read the envelope and was dying to know what was going on with me.

  “Thank you for accepting this package for me, Miss Wanda,” I said, ignoring her question. “How are you feeling?”

  Now why did I ask Miss Wanda that? I had completely forgotten the lonely old woman was a chronic complainer. I didn’t want to be rude so I braced myself for her long list of ailments.

  “Oh, I’m okay, baby, except for my torn meniscus and my arthritis and the herniated disk in my lower back is bothering me. And I just started taking some vitamin D shots and my knee is killing me—it’s gonna rain, isn’t it?” I shrugged my shoulders. “But aside from all my ailments, I’m doing fine, baby. Thanks for asking.”

  I slowly began backing up toward my apartment door. “All righty, Miss Wanda! You take care of yourself and have a nice night,” I said, with a smile. “Thanks again.”

  “Mmm hmm, baby. Anytime,” she said, giving me the once-over before closing her door. I waved her off and quickly walked inside of my apartment. Once I was inside of my house, I threw my bags and stuff on the floor. I had prepared myself for the opening of that envelope for the last few days but my hands were shaking terribly.

  I said a silent prayer. Then I pulled the paper out of the FedEx envelope. I skimmed through everything else until I saw the numbers that I was looking for. I took a deep breath and the tears began to flow . . . Tate was NOT Chasity’s father! I kicked my leg in the air and rubbed on my growing tummy.

  “Hallelujah!” I yelled. “I knew it! I fucking knew it!”

  Those negative results from the test were bittersweet. I had this urge to call all of my friends, my mother, even my brother to tell them the wonderful news. Then I remembered one very important detail—no else was suppose to know that I took the test. I hadn’t even told my friends and my mother, and Payne was a definite no-no. They would say that I was only looking out for myself without any regard for Tate’s or Chasity’s feelings. That couldn’t be further from the truth. I wasn’t only looking out for me. I was looking out for Tate, our future, and the future of our growing family. And with Chasity not being Tate’s biological child, I knew that my baby and I could have him to ourselves.

  I must have read those results at least a hundred times. When I was finally able to fully absorb everything, I made sure that I buried that envelope deep into my closet. Tate barely went through my things but I wanted to take extra precautions with the evidence. Now the only problem was how I was going to tell Tate the news?

  Twenty minutes later, Tate walked in my house with his key. He gave me a kiss on the lips. I was feeling chirpier than usual, thanks to the DNA test.

  “Damn, sweetheart! This pregnancy is really changing your attitude,” he said. “You’re happy, I’m happy. . . .”

  I beamed with pride. “You really are, Tate?”

  He lifted me off my feet. “Of course I’m happy! My sweetheart is having my baby! Why wouldn’t I be happy?”

  I let out a hearty laugh. He put me down on the couch. “Well, I feel amazing!”

  He affectionately rubbed my face and pulled me up from the couch. “We need to go out and celebrate.”

  “Okay, where are we going?” I asked.

  “Maybe we can grab a bite to eat at Night of the Cookers on Fulton Street. You like that place, don’t you?”

  “Hell, yeah! I love that place!” I said, shaking my booty.

  Tate laughed at me. “Then that’s what it is!”

  As we made our way to downtown Brooklyn, Tate and I had a splendid conversation in the car about our baby. He even began picking out his own names—he wasn’t really set on Tatum Jr. for a boy. He was being so wonderful to me that I actually felt bad about the whole DNA thing. Once we arrived at Cookers and were seated at our table, the guilt really began to wear on me. Tate immediately noticed the change in my mood.

  Tate rubbed my cheek with the back of his hand. “Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?” he asked, with a look of concern on his face. “What’s the matter? You have the first-time mommy blues already?”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m okay. Just kind of nervous about what’s in store for me, for us, and the baby, that’s all.”

  Tate ordered our beverages from the waiter who came to our table. “Why are you so nervous? I’m right here with you and I’m not going anywhere.”

  I sighed. “I know, I know but I was just thinking about us. We’re not married, Tate, and I don’t want to end up being a baby mama like you know who.”

 

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