“Shhhhhhh, he might hear you,” Billie replied, looking through the lens of a pair of binoculars.
“I see why he left you,” Tee-Tee eyed her. “Now are we gon’ sit inside this car and stalk him all night, or are you gon’ go in there and say something to him like we discussed? ’Cause my booty starting to hurt.”
“That ain’t got shit to do wit’ my seats. Blame that on yo’ husband,” Billie spat.
“Well, can we at least go inside and get some hot wings,” Dylan whined. ‘I’m hungry as hell.”
“Put a cork in it, fatty. Ain’t nobody in here doing nothin’ until I see what’s going on between Knox and that hussy he works with.”
“Explain to me how you go from wanting to apologize to suspecting him of cheating?” Tee-Tee wondered out loud.
“You can never be too sure these days. Every man got a li’l ho in ’em.” Billie looked closer.
“You got that right,” Tee-Tee nodded in agreement.
“Both of you are retarded.” Dylan rolled her eyes, dreaming of eating a burger and fries.
“Code 10! Code 10!” Billie yelled.
“What?” Tee-Tee sat up straight, trying to see what she saw.
“Knox and that tramp are walking out together!”
“Oooooh, I see ’em. What the hell? Is he walking her to her car?” Tee-Tee yelled, taken aback.
“I’ma kick his ass!” Billie threw down the binoculars and swung open the driver-side door.
“Billie, stop! You don’t even know what’s going on!” Dylan protested.
“Oh, yes, I do! His ass is cheating!” Billie jumped out of the car. “And I’m about to do a Lorena Bobbitt on his white ass!”
“We gotta stop her!” Dylan yelled frantically.
“This ho is bipolar as hell!” Tee-Tee opened his door and got out too.
With Dylan being almost eight months pregnant, it took her a little bit longer to make her exit.
“Aha!” Billie wagged her index finger at Knox. “You thought you had me fooled, huh?”
“What the fuck?” Knox spun around, stunned.
“Here I am cryin’ over you and you foolin’ around with this Paris Hilton wannabe?”
“Actually, my idol is Britney . . . bitch,” Jessica spat.
“Are you insane?” Knox screwed up his face.
“No, but you must be! ’Cause if this is what I think this is, then me, the kids, and the dog gon’ be gone! You betta check my credentials! I give you everything you want and everything you need!” Billie morphed into Beyoncé. “Even your friends say I’m a good woman! Now, all I wanna know is why?” She squinted her eyes like Ethel from Sanford and Son.
“Why what and what dog?” Knox said bewildered.
“That’s beside the point!” Billie waved her hand. “Now, explain to me what you’re doing with this bitch!”
“Knox, I’m gonna leave,” Jessica said, putting her key in the door.
“Uh-uh, slut, you ain’t going nowhere!” Billie charged toward her, but Knox blocked her path. “Oh, so you tryin’ to play Captain Save-a-Ho?”
“If you would calm down you would know that I walked her to her car so she could get the money to pay for the Girl Scout cookies she was about to order from the twins.” He pulled the sheet from his pocket.
“Oh, please, like I’m gon’ believe that?”
“He got the sheet in his hand, dumb ass!” Tee-Tee spat. “Got me out here pretending like I’m Neffe for nothin! Shit, I almost broke out the Vaseline!”
“You have to know that despite whatever we’re going through that I would never cheat on you,” Knox reasoned.
“Oh my God. I am such an idiot,” Billie said mortified.
“You ain’t never lied,” Tee-Tee mumbled, rolling his eyes.
“Umm, you guys,” Dylan groaned, standing on the sidewalk, “either I pee’d on myself or I’m going into labor.”
“I think I’m bipolar. I love you then I hate you.”
Wale, “The War”
12
Dylan lay in a hospital bed, writhing in pain. She knew that going into labor would hurt but goddamn! The pain she was feeling was out of this world. It felt like someone was ripping her insides out with their bare hands. It was like a stomach and menstrual cramp had morphed into one gigantic ball of excruciating pain. Her entire body was tense and filled to the brim with pressure, and to add to her misery, she never got a chance to eat. Nobody ever told her that all you could eat was ice when in a labor.
Maybe if some mini sliders or spinach dip was available, the labor would go smoothly,
she thought.
Dylan hadn’t even had her biweekly bikini wax. The baby’s room wasn’t finished, and she hadn’t even decided on whether she’d name the baby Dahl after her grandmother or Tiffany after her favorite jewelry store. There was so much to do and so little time to do it that her head was beginning to spin.
“How you feeling, honey?” Billie patted her forehead with a damp cloth.
“Bitch, you been through this twice! You know how the hell I feel! I feel like a grenade went off in my ass!”
“Sorry,” Billie winced.
“That was a dumb question,” Tee-Tee said, filming the entire thing.
“If you don’t get that damn camcorder out my face, I’ma kick you!” Dylan warned, trying her best to hit him.
“Ugh! Labor does not bring out the best in you.” He backed up and put the camcorder away.
“Where is Angel? Did y’all call him?” she panted.
“Yeah, he should be here any minute now,” Billie replied.
“Chunky!” Candy sashayed into the room dressed in a rainbow zebra print, polyester/spandex mini dress and five-inch heels.
“Who in the hell called her?” Dylan looked up at Billie.
“I did, now do something,” Tee-Tee challenged, jumping at her.
“Please believe when my baby is born it’s on.” Dylan exhaled, then inhaled.
“Oooh, chile! You look like who did it and what foe!” Candy curled up her lip as if something smelled.
“And you look like if you had a tampon on the string, would be longer than that dress,” Dylan shot back.
“Tooshay,” Candy winked.
“Candy, girl, you are glowing,” Tee-Tee stared at her in awe.
“Thank you,” she blushed. “I just had my body twisted in all sorts of positions by a sweaty Indian man.”
“Sounds like you had a good yoga class.”
“What yoga class?” she shook her head.
“And there it is,” Dylan scowled.
“I honestly never see it coming,” Tee-Tee grinned.
“Have you dilated yet, Chunky?” Candy pulled out her trusty flask.
“Yes, six centimeters,” Dylan panted in pain.
“Uh-oh, epidural time!” Candy backed her ass up. “Just do me one favor and let me be in the room ’cause I tell you one thing. I done tried a lot of shit in my day, but that epidural, baby, is the best high I ever had. That shit right there, nigga, will have you seeing purple monkeys and shit, I’m tellin’ you.”
“So inappropriate,” Dylan inhaled deeply.
“And you five weeks early. Shit, you better take a swig of this Jack while you still can.” Candy placed her flask up to Dylan’s lips.
“No, thank you.” She turned her head.
“Suit yourself.” Candy took another sip.
“Did I miss anything?” Angel raced into the room excited, with Milania in tow.
The entire room went silent. Dylan’s pain seemed to double upon their arrival. Breathing in and out, she wondered if Angel had been hit with a stupid stick ’cause he couldn’t have honestly thought it was okay to bring Satan’s spawn along with him.
“Okay, I know I have threw back a few, but y’all actin’ like Monique and her hairy legs just entered the room.”
“It’s nice to meet you again, Candy,” Angel extended his hand for a shake.
“No-no. That’s how you get H1N1.” She dodged his hand.
“All right, then, uh . . . Candy, this is my girlfriend, Milania.”
“
Fiancée,
” Milania shot him a look dressed to kill.
“Well, she certainly looks like a shoe that has been worn.” Candy gave her a once-over glance.
“Now it’s a party,” Tee-Tee chuckled, clapping his hands.
Opting not to respond, Milania searched the Internet on her phone as if none of them existed ’cause frankly, she could give a shit about Dylan or her baby. She knew she was the shit and her new, messy, just-got-of-bed look she went for with her hair proved it.
“Angel, can I talk to you for a second . . . alone.” Dylan lowered her head and massaged her temples.
“Yeah.” Angel turned to Milania. “Can you wait for me out in the hallway?”
“Sure.” She faked a smile and walked out with everyone else.
“Are you tryin’ to get cut?” Dylan said as soon as everybody was gone.
“Don’t even trip. The only reason I brought her is because when Billie called she was in the car with me and I ain’t have enough time to drop her off.”
“Well, you better tell her to sprout some wings and fly her ass up outta her ’cause homegirl gots to go. I can’t have her around me right now,” Dylan breathed in and out.
“Chill. You won’t even know she’s here.”
“For your sake I better not.” Dylan gave him a glare of warning.
“You excited,” he smiled brightly, ignoring her sarcasm.
“I’m scared as hell. I just pray that she’s gonna be born okay.”
“Or he,” he arched his eyebrow.
“Team girl over here,” Dylan raised the roof.
“Yo’, I can’t believe I’ma be a daddy.” Angel beamed with pride.
“Me either.”
“Dylan,” the nurse said, “we’re ready to give you your epidural now.”
“And on that note, that’s my cue to leave. Me and needles don’t get along,” Angel half joked.
“Scary ass,” Dylan giggled.
Once the procedure was done, Angel came back inside the room alone.
“You a’ight?”
“Oh, this is a cakewalk now,” she grinned.
“Wow, it’s that much better?”
“What are you talkin’ about? I’m at a bar right now. It’s New Year’s, and I am nice, word up.”
“Look, why don’t you try to get some sleep?”
“That’s a good idea.”
“I’ll be right out in the hall if you need me.”
Dylan gave him a slight smile and watched as he walked out of the room and into the hallway.
“We need to talk,” Milania shouted as soon as he stepped out.
“You can tone all that down, sista-girl!” Billie stood up, ready to pounce.
“And you need to mind your business!”
“See? This bitch think it’s a game!” Billie started taking off her earrings.
“Billie, chill,” Angel ordered. “Go in the room and check on Dylan.”
“You better check
her,
” she warned, bypassing them both.
“Who gon’ check me, boo?” Milania rolled her neck.
“This chick must wanna get smacked!” Billie spun around. “I’m talkin’ to you, cocksucker!”
“Whateva. You’re just jealous!”
“Jealous of
what?
” Billie looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Bitch, I had that bag like two seasons ago, and that I don’t think I need a perm look ’cause ‘I’ma model,’” Billie made air quotes with her fingers. “But I really do ’cause my edges are a mess, it’s ridiculous! Nobody deserves that hair! Not even a two-dollar hooker! So once again, what you wanna do, boo? I
dare
you to pop off!”
“Girl, get yo’ ass in here! You have watched one too many episodes of the
Bad Girls Club
.” Tee-Tee pulled her back and into the room.
“What the fuck is yo’ problem?” Angel barked.
“What is
my
problem? What is
my
problem? Nigga, you need to be askin’ yo’self that question!” Milania spat out.
“Nigga?”
Angel repeated, stunned.
“I don’t believe I stuttered. Excuse me, ma’am,” Milania addressed an elderly woman standing in the hallway. “Did you hear me stutter?”
“No, I don’t think you did,” the woman nervously replied, clutching her purse.
“Okay, I just wanted to make sure! Now, back to
you!
” Milania pointed at Angel. “How in the hell you gon’ bring me to the hospital like it’s all good? I don’t wanna be a part of this shit! It’s bad enough she having yo’ baby, now you want me to sit around and play wait till the baby drop? You out yo’ fuckin’ mind!” she spat, fed up with playing second fiddle to Dylan and the baby.
“Look, I been tryin’ to be patient ’cause I know this is difficult, but right now, I need you to rock wit’ me. So can you do us both a favor and relax yo’ fuckin’ mind? ’Cause us beefin’ ain’t gone be good for nobody,” Angel said feeling his temper rise.
Rolling her eyes, Milania sucked her teeth. The selfish part of her wanted to tell him to kick rocks, but in order for her plan to work, she had to continue to play the doting girlfriend for a while longer. Two hours later, Milania was beside herself with boredom. Her ass was hurting from the hard seats and hospital food wasn’t her thing so she was starving to death too. Plus, she was missing R&B singer Ashton’s after party at Lure. She didn’t have time to be sitting around while Dylan pushed out her two-headed baby.
“Huh!” She crossed her legs and groaned.
“What is it now, Milania?” Angel huffed.
“What do you think? I’m ready to go home. I have a party to go to.” She gave him much attitude.
“Really, Milania?” He eyed her sideways.
“Uh, yeah, really. I told you, I ain’t wanna be here.”
“It’s not about you right now, so chill. She having my baby.”
“So how long do you expect me to sit here?” Milania sat up and rolled her neck. “I’m ready to go home now.”
“Angel, come on, it’s time,” Billie said, walking into the waiting area.
“Well, as you can see, I’m not leaving, so I don’t know what you gon’ do.” He stood up, not giving a fuck.
“Deuces.” Milania threw up the peace sign and left.
Angel wished he had the time to deal with Milania and her drama, but the birth of his son or daughter was far more important than Milania’s latest tantrum.
“You ready?” He took Dylan by the hand and gazed into her eyes.
“Let’s go get ’em,” she smiled back, squeezing his hand tightly.
Seven pushes and many earsplitting screams later, the baby was halfway out.
“You wanna pull the baby out?” her doctor asked.
“Yes,” Dylan said eagerly.
“Just reach down in between your legs and grab the baby by its arms.”
Dylan did as she was told, and seconds later, her baby was in her arms.
“Hey, there, pretty gir—What the hell?” she said looking at the baby boy in her hands.
“I
knew
it was gon’ be a boy!” Angel pumped his fist into the air.
It was 5:15
A.M.
Angel was past tired. He was dead to the world exhausted. It felt like he’d been up forever, but the lack of sleep had been worth it. His four pound five ounce, curly haired baby boy, Mason Alexander Carter, was the apple of his eye. The infant looked exactly like him. Mason’s eyes were pear-shaped just like Angel’s, but the color of them was hazel just like his mother’s. He had the cutest button nose and the most perfect pair of pink lips Angel had ever seen.
Angel couldn’t wait to get back to his baby boy. As always when returning home, he dropped his keys and wallet on the table by the door. Milania sat on the sofa reading the latest issue of
Elle
magazine while sipping on a cup of coffee. The five-page spread she’d done a month before was in that month’s issue. Determined to throw him the maximum amount of shade, she flipped the page and pretended that he hadn’t even walked through the door. Not having anything to say to her either, Angel walked toward the bedroom, completely ignoring her.
She’d been on some ghetto bird stuff lately and Angel wasn’t feeling it at all. At first, he thought she might’ve really loved him, but as time went on, he started to feel differently. All Milania cared about was her career and being featured in all of the gossip magazines and blog sites. She loved being a part of the social scene, but homegirl was starting to get the big head and forget that if it wasn’t for Angel introducing her to his world, she’d still be a struggling model from Oakland, California.
After taking a steaming hot shower and placing on a white Henley Y-neck shirt, gray Obey jeans, and a pair of crisp new Nike Air Max sneakers, Angel walked to the kitchen and fixed himself a glass of ice-cold water. Milania continued to act as if he didn’t exist. Finished with the drink, he put the cup in the sink and grabbed his keys.