Thug Lovin' (12 page)

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It was a Saturday morning and Tasha was running around the house trying to get out. The kids were driving her crazy and it
seemed as if the phone had been ringing nonstop.

“Aisha, let the twins play with their toys, not your dolls. Okay?”

“Okay, Auntie Tasha,” Aisha said with little enthusiasm.

Aisha made it her mission to make her way over to Tasha’s every chance she got to help out with the twins. To her, they were
life-size baby dolls. And today was no exception. She not only called herself looking out for the boys, but keeping their
room straightened up as well.

The doorbell and the phone were ringing.

“Auntie Tasha, the doorbell,” Aisha called out.

“I got it,” Marva yelled.

“I got the door, Aunt Marva. You can get the phone.” Tasha headed for the front door. “Your friends have been calling all
morning wondering why you didn’t come shopping with them. Why aren’t you going out with your girls? It’s Saturday,” Tasha
yelled out hoping she would catch the hint to get out of the house and do something.

Tasha pulled back the front door curtain to see a deliveryman. Baffled, she opened the front door and asked, “Can I help you?”

“Is this the Macklin residence?”

“Yes it is. I’m Mrs. Macklin.”

“Is Trae Macklin home?”

“No, he’s not. I told you I’m Mrs. Macklin. How can I help you?”

“Uh, okay,” the surfer kid said. “Can you sign right here?” He pointed to a yellow arrow. “And right here.” He pointed to
another arrow.

“What did my husband order?”

The delivery kid tore off the copies of the transaction and handed them to Tasha. “A Harley-Davidson.” He then handed her
a big envelope with the keys and other documents.

Tasha and the delivery kid both stood there as the other deliverymen unloaded the truck and sat a brand-new top-of-the-line
Harley in the driveway.

“What’s all the commotion?” Aunt Marva came to the door carrying Caliph.

“Your nephew bought a new toy and didn’t even tell me. A dangerous one at that.”

“A motorcycle? Since when did he ride those things?” Marva shrieked.

Tasha was just shaking her head. “I don’t have the slightest idea. I can’t wait to hear what brought this on and if I don’t
like it, it’s going back. The nigga even had the nerve to get it wrapped with a red bow tie.”

“Have a good day.” The delivery kid waved and jumped into the truck.

“Can I see?” Aisha was trying to squeeze in between Marva and Tasha, who were blocking the doorway.

Tasha left them standing there to go check on the twins, who were in the family room. Shaheem and Caliph were watching
Super Why!
and Kareem was still playing with his toys. Tasha sat down and thumbed through the paperwork. She frowned when she saw that
the delivery address was the offices of Li, Hammerstein and Burke from Ms. Charli Li. “That bitch! That sneaky-ass ho! She
is just determined to disrespect me.”

“Concita,” she yelled out. “Come in here with the boys, please. I have to go do something real quick.”

“Can me and the twins go?” Aisha asked.

“No, baby. I’m not going anywhere. I just need to run upstairs.”

When she got upstairs, she began ransacking Trae’s things, looking for a number. She finally yelled, “Bingo!” She held up
the business card and went over to the phone and dialed the number, only to be greeted by the voice mail. She then pressed
zero to get transferred to the switchboard.

“Good afternoon, law offices of Li, Hammerstein and Burke.”

“I need to speak to Charli Li.”

“I’m sorry, but Ms. Li is usually out of the office on Saturdays. Would you like to leave a message or have one of our other
associates call you back?”

“No, but tell Charli that Mr. Macklin’s wife Tasha called to inform her that her little gift was unprofessional and disrespectful.
And if she keeps on fuckin’ with me she will see what an East Coast ass-whipping is firsthand. As a matter of fact, tell her
if she doesn’t get her little confused ass over here to pick it up personally, I will have it stripped and sell the pieces
to a junkyard.”

The operator paused. “Um, can I have your name and number again?”

“The name is Tasha Macklin and the bitch has the number and my address.” Tasha hung up. She then went and put on her sneakers,
put her hair into a ponytail and headed for the basement, almost knocking Marva over.

She grabbed a can of black spray paint, a pair of gloves and a baseball bat. She then ran back up the stairs. This time Marva
stood blocking the basement doorway. “What are you doing, chile?”

“That Chinese bitch bought that motorcycle for Trae.”

“Oh? Oooh.” Marva slowly moved to the side as Tasha whizzed by.

“You and Concita, be sure to keep Aisha and the kids in the house for me.”

When she got outside, she put the gloves on. She looked at the bat and the spray paint and tossed the bat on the ground. She
stood back and began shaking the spray paint.

Marva’s fingers couldn’t dial Trae’s number fast enough.

“Auntie, what’s good?” Trae asked, sounding as if he was chilling.

“I suggest you get your ass home to your wife ASAP.”

“Why, what’s the matter?” Trae sat up straight. His seat was in the reclined position as he drove around the town with Marvin.

Aunt Marva looked out the window and Tasha was spraying black spray paint all over the brand spanking new Harley-Davidson.

“Your wife has gone mad. You need to get here as soon as possible.”

“Auntie, you gotta tell me more than that. What the fuck is going on?”

“Watch your mouth, boy! All I know it’s concerning a Chinese bitch and a package being delivered.” She hung up.

Trae looked at the phone and frowned. Marvin saw the puzzled look on his face. “What’s up?”

“I don’t know, man.” He called his house and this time Concita answered the phone.

“Concita, what kind of package came for me today?”

“Oh yes, Mr. Macklin. You got a big shiny motorcycle on the front grass. And your wife, Missus Macklin, she must not like
it because she runs through the house looking for cans of paint. And me and Missus Marva have the kids and your wife is outside
spraying and painting.” Concita rambled away.

“What? Slow down, Concita. She’s spraying and painting what?”

“The big shiny motorcycle on the front grass. We all standing here watching her. But no one doing anything. Oh, Jesus. Aye
yiyi yi yi,” Concita gasped.

“Concita, what is going on?”

She held her heart as she watched Tasha swing the baseball bat as if she were hitting home runs. She was trying her best to
crush the Harley-Davidson to tiny pieces. “Missus Macklin has a baseball bat and she hitting and beating de bike. But Mr.
Macklin, this is your house. Your business. I just here for de kids. None of my business,” Concita said.

“Thank you, Concita.” Trae ended the call with Concita and began dialing Charli’s cell phone but got no answer.

“What’s up?” Marvin tried to find out what was going on. They pulled up into the club parking lot and got out. “What’s up,
nigga?” Trae had his back to Marvin. Trae ignored Marvin as he continued to try and reach Charli. Marvin followed Trae into
the club, all the way to his office.

“Yo, what’s up with you? Are you sending shit to my house?” Trae finally reached her.

“Ooh, straight to the point,” Charli purred as she spun around in her chair. “I heard that you were thinking about a Harley,
so I had one brought over. No big deal.”

“Don’t send shit to my house.”

“Was it the color?” Charli was very calm when she asked him that.

“Yo.” Trae couldn’t even finish his sentence. All he could do was laugh since he had been caught off guard by her response.
“No, it wasn’t the color,” he mocked her.

“What color would you like? Just say it and it’s done.”

“Charli, listen to me. You don’t have to buy shit for me, and definitely don’t be sending shit to my house. I’m telling you
that for your own good.”

“So, I see that it is not the color, it’s the wife. Maybe I’ll stop by with someone and have them pick it up. Maybe I won’t.
However, I’m not one to be denied so I suggest that you handle her.” Charli hung up the phone.

Trae looked at the phone. “Ain’t this a bitch.”

“What?” Stephon barged into the office smacking on an apple.

Marvin was sitting there grinning since he had ear hustled enough to know what had just gone down.

Trae called his house and Marva picked up.

“Hello.”

“Let me speak to my wife.”

“Boy, she ain’t thinking about no phone. She too busy out there banging up that damn motorbike. I told you to get your ass
here ASAP.”

“Take her the phone, Auntie. I need to speak to her.”

As Marva went to open the front door, Tasha burst in huffing and puffing. Marva held out the phone. “This is your husband.”

“Please. Not now.”

“You heard her, didn’t you?” Marva said to Trae.

“Tell her I said to get her ass on this fuckin’ phone.”

“Tasha, your husband said to get your ass on this fuckin’ phone.” She shoved the phone at her. “Chile, take this phone. Y’all
got me in the middle of this mess. I need to check on Concita and the kids.”

Tasha snatched the phone from out of her hands. She was so mad that she couldn’t even speak. All Trae heard was her breathing.

“Tasha, I know you ain’t trippin’ over this bullshit.”

“No, I’m not trippin’. Just bring your ass home right now, Trae. And you better hope your little Asian mistress is not dumb
enough to bring her stupid ass over here. If she does, I’ma mop the cement with her ass.”

Trae was left with the dial tone. “Damn,” Trae snapped. “C’mon. Take me home.”

“Do I need to break the speed limit?” Marvin wanted to know.

“What you think, man?”

Marvin pulled out his car keys and stood up.

“Tell us what’s happening, nigga,” Stephon said. “Y’all leaving already? Y’all just got here. What about our meeting?”

“It’s Charli, man. Which one of y’all muthafuckas talking about me to her? You or Benny? Y’all the only niggas knew I was
lookin’ at the Harley.”

“Yo, she hooked you up?” Stephon said excitedly, not answering his question.

“Yeah, but from what I hear Tasha fucked that shit up.”

“Dayuuum,” Marvin gritted. “She fucked up a hundred-thousand-dollar bike like that?” He visualized himself riding it down
Highway 10 at eighty miles an hour.

“Awww, man. My cuz get down like that?” Stephon said as he followed them to the car. “Aiight, then handle your business. I’ll
hit y’all up later.” He watched them pull off before going back inside the club.

As soon as they pulled up in front of the house, Trae jumped out of the truck, glad to see that Charli hadn’t shown up. Tasha
had used black spray paint and a can of red. It was all over the grass and driveway, and all over what was left of the bike.
Trae picked the baseball bat up off the ground. The headlights and mirrors were busted and the pieces were scattered on the
ground and dents were covering the bike. It was totaled.

Marvin came up and stood next to him. “Damn. This is fucked up. Where she get the strength from to destroy a machine? I wouldn’t
go in there if I was you, dawg. Wait until she cools off, playa.”

“You don’t know Tasha like I know her. She isn’t going to cool off. I might as well go and get the shit over with.” He left
Marvin standing there and headed for the front porch.

“Hold up, man, let me get Aisha and take her home.”

When they walked into the house it looked as if no one were home. “They must be in the backyard.” Trae led the way out back,
dropping the baseball bat next to the basement door.

“Daddy!” Aisha yelled, running and jumping down the steps into Marvin’s arms.

“What’s up?” He kissed his daughter on the forehead and threw her up into the air, causing her to yell with glee.

“Twins and Caliph! Your daddy is here,” she yelled. Before you knew it the twins were running for the kitchen. When they saw
Trae they both rushed over to where he was. He stooped down and started playing with them.

“Aunt Tasha said I can spend the night,” Aisha told Marvin.

“That may be so, but I think your mother wants me to bring you home.”

“Aww, Daddy. Can’t I stay?” she pouted. “I don’t want to go home. It ain’t no fun at home.”

“Daddy ain’t no fun?”

“I like having fun with the twins.”

“Well, we have to go home and talk to your mother about it.”

“Mommy ain’t home.”

“Mommy
isn’t
home,” he corrected her. “And she is home.”

“Mommy isn’t home. You dropped her off at school, remember?”

“Yes, but after she finished talking to the teacher, I took her home. Now go get your things.”

Tasha was upstairs on the phone with her girl Jaz. She was furious. Jaz was always the first person she consulted with whenever
she had a beef with Trae. When she lived in Jersey she would run over to Jaz’s house. Now that Jaz was living in Georgia,
she could only call her up.

“This bitch had the nerve to have the shit delivered to my house, Jaz.”

“Tasha, calm down. Have you heard Trae’s side of the story?”

“No, his black ass ain’t home yet.”

“Here I go right here.” Trae waltzed through their bedroom door. When he saw the blotches of red and black spray paint on
her face he smiled.

“Oh you think the shit is funny?” Tasha snapped. She hung up on Jaz without saying bye and popped up off the bed and stood
in Trae’s face. “You think the shit is cute?” She poked him in the forehead.

“Tasha, I don’t know why she bought me the bike. I damn sure didn’t ask her to.”

“Nigga, that’s bullshit. Just say it. You fuckin’ her. Say it, Trae.”

“Why am I going to say something that ain’t true? I’m not fuckin’ her and don’t be accusing me of no bullshit that I’m not
guilty of.”

“Nigga, ain’t no bitch gonna put that kind of money out and ain’t gettin’ no dick. This is me you’re talking to. Plus, I saw
how she was looking at you when I picked you up from that restaurant. And I remember that stunt she pulled at the club.”