“I shollhope you know what you doin, boy,” said ma, sitting beside me, shaking her head. “Got me tied up in this mess. I could barely look at that damn girl at the party, knowing what I know.”
The next day, I was with my ma, and we were on our way to Ms. Rochelle’s.
I looked over at her. “I know what I’m doing. I’ll tell Mahogany when I feel like the time is right.”
“The time will never be right. Just make sure you leave me out of it when you do. Don’t need the girl hating me more than she already do.”
“Mahogany don’t hate you.”
“Mmhmm. Yes she do. Nasty ass attitude. She was dry and distant all night. Drank like a fish, too. You sho’ y’all good? You sure she don’t know?”
I glanced at her again and writhed the steering wheel, hating I had to drag her into this with me. I fucked with my momma. I mean, I fucked with her heavy, but when she knew something she wasn’t supposed to know, she was annoying as hell.
“Yeah I’m sure,” I said, shifting around in my seat. “She was under a lot of pressure.”
“I’m sure she was. She gon be under a lot mo’ once she find out.” She shook her head. “Just ridiculous.”
Ma sat there going on and on about the way I was handling the situation up until we pulled up. I didn’t say shit—just let her ramble. There was no need for me to speak up anyway. When ma had her mind set on something, it was set and according to her, I was fucking up royally. I mean, hell… I knew that. Didn’t want to sit up and listen to it though.
“Aight, look ma. Ms. Rochelle is old school Christian and?—“
“I don’t need you giving out no disclaimer, Ducati,” She interrupted, unbuckling her seatbelt.
“Just don’t get in there actin’ crazy,” I joked. “Act like you got some sense, woman.”
My momma looked over at me with her lips twisted up. Sucking her teeth she said, “Boy please.”
I laughed. “Nah, I’m for real ma.” I unbuckled my seatbelt and killed the engine to the car. “Ms. Rochelle is a nice old lady. She don’t curse for real or none of that.”
“I know how to act, nigga. I don’t need you giving me no pep talk.”
Yes she did.
The last time we did something remotely close to this was when she dragged me over to Mahogany’s house to tell her people she was pregnant. She walked in Ms. Eve and them house acting a damn fool. Didn’t take her shoes off at the door, was cursing, rolling her eyes and her neck when she talked. Shit almost went left. Well, it did. It damn near went far-far left. Ma and Eve didn’t get into a fight, but Reg did have to ask us to leave. Moms always preached having home training when I was growing up but she carried herself like she didn’t have any.
“What’s her name again?” Ma asked, as we walked up the stairs.
“Ms. Ro?—“
She waved me off. “Not her ass… my grand baby. The little girl.”
Little girl.
That’s what she’d been calling her since I told her about Diary.
“Diary.”
“Mmmh. What a name, what a name. That momma ain’t shit.”
I tossed my head back a little. “Come on now ma.”
“Don’t tell me to come on nothin. She ain’t shit. She should’ve told you. Keepin secrets, naming that little girl Diary. Ain’t worth a damn.”
She said the same thing the first time I told her Diary’s name. She didn’t like Erika. Wasn’t that shit crazy though? Not liking a dead woman. I mean, shit, I had my feelings toward her, but it was what it was. Hating her and bad mouthing her would do nothing to fix the situation I was in, so I was just rocking. Any time she would say something off the wall about E I would check her about it though. I disrespected E a few times yeah, but that shit was done inwardly. I’d never come out of my mouth and talk ill of her. She was dead and this shit I was in? It was my fault.
I’d been spotty as hell with the accountability but the reality of it was that if I hadn’t fucked shorty raw, none of this would have happened. I was just glad to have a solution. Did I still plan on telling Mahogany what was going on? Of course. I had to. Felt like God wouldn’t let me take this shit to my grave if I tried to anyway. Trying was useless. There was no way around it. A nigga was just waiting for the right pocket in time to do so. Today wasn’t it. Tomorrow wouldn’t be neither. Hell, the day after thatwouldn’t be neither. I was just… waiting. And in the meantime, building not only courage but a real relationship with my seed.
I knocked on the door and a couple of minutes later, Ms. Rochelle opened up, holding her cardigan close. She looked tired. Weary. Drained. Over it. And a nigga felt guilty as hell. I knew she was sick. Knew she was tired of chasing a kid around all day too, but I took my time doing this shit. Might’ve been a little selfish but I had shit going on and Diary coming into my life couldn’t just interrupt the flow of it. That was why I had moms.
