Ex-girl to the Next Girl (21 page)

Chapter
35

I
stayed at Malik's house twice this week. I didn't want to be too intrusive, but when I stayed there, I noticed he needed a lot of things in his house. His living room was empty and his bedroom only had a bed in it. I went to Target and bought him a new tan-and-gold paisley bed-in-a-bag for his bedroom. I got him a pot-and-pan set and dishes. His ex-wife had taken everything from the house. Poor baby. I hoped he wouldn't take it as me trying to move in on him, but wherever I'm at, I like to feel comfortable. I was going to surprise him with all the stuff. When I arrived at his house, his friend Jarrod looked at me and just began shaking his head.

“Why are you shaking your head?” I asked.

“Because he wishes he had a girl like you,” Malik said as he looked over at him.

“That's what it is?” Jarrod said as Malik pushed him toward the door. I began to take everything out of the bags. I overheard him say, “Man, you don't deserve her.” Malik then said, “Go home to your woman and leave us alone.” He said good-bye as he grabbed his jacket. Malik was so happy that I had bought that little bit of stuff for his place. He thanked me over and over again.

He put everything up and did his dishes. I went home to get ready for the next school day, but before I left him I wrote a note and placed it in his jacket.

I went home and thought about Malik and our possible future. I was wondering if I was putting too much into him too fast, because I was trying to get over Erick. I wasn't sure. I did still think about Erick from time to time. I hadn't talked to him since that day he didn't let me in.

 

 

More than likely, if someone rings my phone in the middle of the night someone has news for me. Hopefully it was good news. The last time it wasn't. The last time my phone rang in the middle of the night, it was my aunt informing me that my grandfather died. That thought crossed my mind as I scoped my room in the darkness, looking for the cordless phone. I saw the red light blinking. The phone was on my dresser. I extended my arm over and grabbed the telephone.

“Hello, Nadine—wake up.”

“Aunt Connie? What's going on? Is something wrong? Is everything okay? Why are you calling me at three-thirty in the morning?”

“Toya is having the baby, and that sorry-ass man of hers has not shown up yet. I have to go to work at six and I don't want to leave her alone. I can't take a day off.”

“What hospital are you at?”

“Pennsylvania.”

“Okay, I'll be right there,” I said, and hit the OFF button on the phone. I so did not feel like going to a hospital. I wanted to lie right in my bed. I'd wish I never answered the phone. I don't know why everybody always wanted to call me when they needed something—be it money or a ride, call Nadine. Nadine is fucking tired. I wanted to say fuck Toya so bad, but I couldn't. She was supposed to have this baby for the last three weeks, but they kept sending her home. False alarm after false alarm. I didn't want to go, but I decided I would just lie back in the bed for about ten minutes. When I awoke then I'd go to the hospital.

 

 

My ten-minute rest turned into an hour-and-a-half catnap. I almost went back to sleep, but I remembered I had to be there for Toya. I put my clothes on and drove to the hospital. I made my way to the labor and delivery floor. Nate's ass was laid up on the sofa, snuggled with a blanket. Toya was in pain and this niggah was asleep. I kindly woke him up.

“What's up—she have the baby?” he said, sitting up, startled.

“No, but you ass should be up, holding her hand, not asleep,” I said.

“Man, she cool,” he said as he pulled the cover back over his head. I waited a few seconds, and then I snatched the cover off of him but he still remained asleep. So I cut on all the lights and turned the television on and the volume up.

“Get up and go over there with my cousin.”

Nate looked at me with his scruffy beard and weed-smelling ass. “She knows I'm here for her. I love her. I started a new job. I got three kids—I'm sleepy.”

“You still have to get up with her. Where you working at, anyway?” I asked.

“I'm got two jobs. I have three kids and a soon-to-be wife to take care of,” he said, yawning, realizing that I was not going to allow him to sleep. I wanted to apogize but, work or not, he needed to be up.

 

 

Toya gave birth to an eight-pound, seven-ounce baby boy. By the time she completed her twelve hours of labor, my Aunt Connie was back to greet her new grandchild.

“He is so handsome,” I said as I entered the room filled with balloons and flowers.

“I know—I got me a handsome grandbaby,” Aunt Connie said as Uncle Chuck was holding him.

“You need anything?” I asked Toya as I touched her legs.

“No, I'm good if you can get me some water. My body is aching—tell them to bring me a Percocet. I'm not going through this anymore. I'm twenty-four with three kids. I know I'm a good mom. But the nurses know me here. They said, “See you next year,” Toya said.

“You kidding, right?” I laughed.

“That shit is not funny, but the laugh is on them because I got my tubes tied. I can't do the pain anymore. I got my boy—that's all I need.”

 

 

A powder-blue-and-white banner that read
HEAVEN SENT US A BOY
extended across the porch of Aunt Connie's house. Even though she said she wasn't going to spoil this grandbaby, I think she takes that back already. She had bought the baby tons of everything blue. Aunt Connie was hanging up decorations in the living room.

“My little boopie-boop is coming home,” she exclaimed.

“You see all this stuff I bought him?” she asked as she pulled out blankets, toys, and clothes.

“Yes, I do,” I said, amazed.

“What's going on with you? How is Malik?”

“Malik is fine. I really like him.”

“Does he have any children?”

“Yeah, by his crazy ex-wife.”

“Well, you don't need that, because that baby is going to be in his life forever.”

“I know. I mean, she hasn't caused any problems yet, and he is so sweet.”

“He is very nice-looking, too!”

“I know, and he knows how to treat me.”

 

 

I went to the store and bought my new little cousin a bassinet. It was lily-white and so pretty. All the baby clothes and furniture was so adorable. Walking around the Babies ‘R' Us made me want a baby. I wonder if Malik wanted any more kids.

M
e and Malik's relationship has gone from bad to worse. We don't spend any time together. He does not come home—he stays out with Jarrod all the time, and I'm just plain tired of it. Things have been awful. He keeps saying he is helping him move and pack. But I'm not stupid—it doesn't take anyone weeks to move.

“Nae—I mean, Shonda.”

“What did you call me?” I asked. I swore he called me Nae.

“I called you Shonda.”

“Who is Nae?”

“I didn't say anything about Nae—I said hey.”

“Hey
what
, Malik?”

“I was asking you to get me a towel.”

I handed him a towel out of the closet. “Who the hell is Nae, and where are you going?” I asked as he dried off.

“Nowhere—can't I take a shower and get clean? I'm just in the house. I'm not a prisoner.”

“Why are you trying to get cute if you're staying in the house?”

“You sound stupid. I'm about to go downstairs and watch television.” Ten minutes later he came up the steps and said, “Shonda, me and Omar about to go out for a minute.”

“Where y'all going?” I asked.

“I have to take him somewhere so he can handle some of his business.”

“How long are you going to be?” I asked.

“I don't know—I'll call you,” he said as he slid a navy blue hooded sweatshirt over his head.

While Malik was gone, Ocho called me and we talked for two hours. When I hung up, Malik's ass still wasn't home. One side of me thought, I need to look good for my man when he came in. The other side was ready for bed and didn't care about Malik anymore. I had to be at work in the morning and I was tired. I wrapped my hair around, put a scarf on it, and took my ass to bed. I figure if he didn't know I looked good by now, oh well. Destiny's Child “Cater to You”—yeah, fucking right. All I know is when he comes in here, he better not touch me—he better stay on his side of the bed. I decided to call his phone to see what he was doing.

“Malik, when you coming home?”

“I'll be there,” he said, irritated.

“When?”

“I'll be there. I met up with Jarrod—we all having a few beers real quick.”

“Niggah, what—you fucking Jarrod on the down low?”

“Shonda, that's some real ignorant shit to say,” he said.

“I don't care—come home, stop staying out with Jarrod, and I won't have anything to say.”

“I'll be there when I get there.”

Malik came in the room smelling like beer. My eyes were burning, and I felt pressure over them. His beer smell made me sick. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.

Working overnight was the pits. I came home tired as hell—I wanted to lie down. Malik was not in the house—his car was already gone. I looked over at our bed. It didn't look like anyone had slept in it. I opened up my phone and dialed Malik.

“Malik, where are you?” I asked.

“I already left out for work. You just got in? How was work?” he asked.

“Malik, you be leaving out mighty earlier in the morning,” I said suspiciously.

“Yeah, I have been trying to get a jump-start on my day.”

“That's funny, because the tub is not cleaned out and there aren't any damp wash cloths in the bathroom,” I said as I closed my phone and the conversation with Malik.

 

 

Talking to Ocho was good for my self-esteem. He always complimented me and told me how beautiful I was.

“You look good today, and you smell even better. You know what they say, right?” Ocho asked as we talked on the telephone.

“No, what do they say?” I asked.

“The first piece of ass you get when you come home, you going to sprung. You going to have me breaking out of this, bitch,” I laughed. “You just don't know how your ass be moving in the tight-ass uniform pants. My dick be standing straight up every time you pass me.”

“Next time I'm going to have to come and sit on it,” I teased.

“Your pussy be looking fat. Damn, girl, just thinking about you.”

“What you doing?” I asked.

“Stroking my man—he needs some attention.”

“When you get out, I'm going to give you all the attention you need,” I said.

“That's in another six weeks—I can't wait that long.”

“You going to have to. I got to get ready for bed. I'll see you tomorrow.”

I couldn't wait to hold Ocho. We have been talking, but I do want to feel him. I played every scene in my mind. How I would pick him up from the jail. We would go get a room. I would take off his clothes and lick his whole body. I won't leave Malik for him—he will just be a side dude with money.

 

 

I wish I could afford to pay for a private detective—I want to see if Malik is really cheating on me. He has been working and still hasn't given me a dime for any of the bills. I had to stop thinking about Malik—it felt like he wasn't mine anymore. I couldn't keep worrying about him. I did everything in my power to keep him here. I am doing everything right by him. If it's something else out there, I'm going to let him have it. Where is he? What is he doing? I'm getting a headache from worrying. I don't want to worry about Malik. I just want peace of mind. I wonder what great excuse he will have now. He was doing whatever it was he wanted to do, so I'm going to show him that two can play that game. I'm going to go up to work and give Ocho what he wants.

I took Ocho into the ladies' bathroom. I had Hicks cover for me. We went into the closet. I was so nervous to see if anyone saw us go in together. We had to hurry, so nobody would walk in on us. I would lose my job and everything. Ocho stood me up next to the wall. He stroked my back and it felt a little like spiders were crawling all over my body. He slid his jumpsuit down to his boots. He pulled his erect, thick tool out and rubbed it up and down my leg, then entered me. He was not able to withstand the wetness and tightness of my interior. He was finished quickly, and I rushed him back to his cell. I went back to my post and freshened up in the bathroom. His smell was still all over me. That was our routine for the next couple of nights, each time longer and harder.

I spent time with Ocho when I could. I snuck into his cell. His celly had court that morning. He had already left on the bus and was about to go to court. I knew I might get caught, but that made the sex better and more exciting. It made my senses tingle. Nobody was looking, so I left the door open. He sat on the bed and I grinded my ass on his dick. If I could have, I would have screamed and woke everybody in that prison up. I squeezed my pussy hard, bringing my muscles in and out to wrap around him like a suction cup. He held me up and said, “You are mine now—you have to leave him.”

“I can't leave him.”

“Yes, you can. I didn't want to tell you until it was finalized, but I'm coming home on house arrest.” I looked at him—I couldn't believe what he was telling me. Then he said, “So, you won't have to worry about anything. Shonda, you are the kind of female that a man needs to take care of. I don't want you bringing anything else in this jail because you about to be okay. You hear me?”

“Yes,” I answered him. I did need a man to reassure me, to tell me that it's going to be okay.

“The minute I get out of here, you not going to need anything. I got you. You hear me?”

“Yes.” I was confused. If he came home, he would really want me to leave Malik.

“I need you to do me a favor.”

“What?”

“Do you think you can take some money past my people's house?”

“Where is it?”

“Myrtlewood Street by Twenty-ninth. Go give my son some money.”

“I'll do it after work,” I said.

“Okay, good—I love you,” he said.

“All right, 'bye.”

“You supposed to tell me you love me too!”

“I have to go.”

“You not going to tell me?” he said, looking disappointed.

“I love you, too!”

I have a husband and I'm telling a dude in prison that I love him. But I do feel like I do love him. I miss him when I'm not near him. I had to talk to somebody about Ocho. I hope Tae understands. I didn't have anybody else to talk to. I needed her to give me some insight about my relationship with Ocho. I went to her place to ask her for advice.

“Where is Kenneth?” I asked as I looked around her apartment.

“He is at his second job, getting that money,” she said, rubbing her thumb across her fingers. “He's got to, though, 'cause I'm trying to save for a house so I can decorate my bunchkins' room.”

“You're pregnant?”

“No, not yet, but I can't wait to be. Our plan is to get married by September, be in our house by Christmas, and have the baby by our first anniversary.”

“So you got everything all planned out.”

“Yes.”

“This was quick.”

“I know, Shonda, but it is so right. So tell me your news.”

“Well, Tae, I met someone.”

She jumped up and said, “Oh shit, where? Malik is going to be hot. Who is he?”

“He is at my job,” I said.

“At your job. You know job romance never works out.”

“I know, but he doesn't work there.” It took a few minutes for it to sink in, and then she said, “Shonda—an inmate!”

“Yes, he is an inmate, but listen, I didn't think it would lead to sex. I was getting to know him and one thing led to another.”

“You cannot lose your job for some bum-ass niggah in jail.”

“He is about to get out, and he is not a bum. His name is Ocho.”

“Ocho? What is he, Spanish?”

“No, he's black. He used to get money down Susquehanna.”

“I can't believe you are risking your job and marriage for an inmate. Do not cheat on Malik with some convict.”

“But, Tae, you are not listening.”

“I am listening—you shouldn't be doing this to Malik.”

“Are you taking Malik's side?”

“I'm not taking his side, but come on—if you not happy, then get a divorce. Don't let some thug-ass inmate convince you that he is your soul mate, Shonda. You can do better. You should try to work on you and Malik's relationship.”

“It's not that simple. I think Malik is already cheating on me.”

“I can't cosign on this, Shonda—this is just dumb. You are too old for this stupid shit.”

I didn't even say anything else to Tae. I just got up and left her apartment. Ever since she met Kenneth, she does not call me at all. I'm not jealous of her happiness because I don't have my own happiness. It's just now she thinks she has all the answers. I mean, yeah, you engaged—yeah, you getting married—so the fuck what. When he starts hanging out late, cheating—I hope he doesn't—but when he does, I hope you have somebody else to turn to, because I won't be there. Maybe I'm being self-centered. Just a little, but when I was with Malik, I didn't front on her. I didn't hang out as much, but I always took her phone calls and I didn't get selfrighteous on her. I hope he dumps her, and when she is ready to become friends again, I'm going to tell her to suck my dick.

 

 

I grew up in Philly, so I knew what street life was like, but I had never seen anything like Ocho's son's block. My car barely rode down the tiny block, and I was scared to get out. There was an empty lot filled with old soda bottles, tires, and soiled mattresses. I got out of my car and looked for the house. I pulled the address out of my pocket and located the house. The address was painted on the brick wall with white paint. The door handle was broke and hanging off a little. A handwritten sign that read
KNOCK HARD
was faded and barely hanging on with a thin piece of tape. A faded blanket was acting as a makeshift curtain. I knocked hard, like the sign said. A woman with gray, matted hair answered.