“He still won’t let you get my nephew?” Laporsha asked. My mama obviously told her what was going on after I updated her on everything this morning.
“I haven’t even reached out to him again because I know where it will lead.”
“Mm, girl, it couldn’t be me,” Vanessa said under her breath. She had a habit of mumbling slick comments like she wanted the smoke but didn’t want to claim the fire. Vannessa was the oldest and treated all of us like kids, which was funny, because she had the most children, the least money, and always needed to borrow something before the end of the month. Vanessa could’ve been a fuckin doctor right now, because she was one of the smartest people in her class before she got pregnant and dropped out of school. Back then, I was jealous of her because she didn’t have to go to school, but now, I’m seeing that school is way easier than being a full-time mother. The bell never actually rings on that.
“He is going to bring him back soon. Reggie is not the stand-up guy he pretends to be. And what you mean couldn’t be you, like your baby daddy ain’t stupid too, Vanessa.” I plopped down on the couch next to my mama.
Vanessa smacked her lips.
“He may be stupid, but he is not dumb enough to take my baby and say he is not bringing him back. He bold for that shit, and you bold for letting him do that.”
My head snapped toward her. “Nah, you bold for coming at me about my son when your shit smells like shit.”
“I know it does,” she shot back, folding her arms, “but that doesn’t stop me from being a mother. You so busy up under Crew and his rich friends, you don’t even care that nigga hijacked your baby.”
“Crew and his rich friends?” I leaned forward. “Girl, please. Don’t you dare tell me shit about my life. You are a professional baby mama.”
“And you are a professional hoe.”
“Enough!” Mama’s voice cracked through the room just as I pushed myself halfway off the couch, ready to swing. I hadn’t even been in here for five minutes, and this bitch already had my blood fuckin boiling about my son.
“You two are taking things too far, and I refuse to listen to it.”
“Ma, tell this bitch to stay out of my business,” I snapped, pointing at Vanessa. “She got some nerve telling me about my son.”
“Jassy, I understand. Just calm down.”
“Mama, you don’t have to keep babying her,” Vanessa cut in. “That’s all you and Crew do. I’m telling her the truth. She's letting her son go too easily, almost like she's happy he's gone.”
That did it.
I shot up off the couch, fists balled so tight my nails dug into my palms. “Bitch, say something else.”
“Jasmine, sit down!” Mama warned.
Vanessa stood too, slow and deliberate, until we were chest to chest. “What you gonna do, bitch? I wish you would hit me.”
“I’ll drag your ass.”
“Drag your ass to the clinic, hoe. Fucking all these niggas and think you're better than somebody.”
My vision blurred. Tears spilled down my face, hot and fast. “Who am I fucking? My boyfriend just died!”
“And I’m sure your ass done fucked somebody since then. Tell me I’m lying!”
“Girls, stop!” Mama shouted, clapping her hands. “Laporsha! Get your sisters!”
“Nah, Mama, I ain’t getting in that. Let them handle it how they see fit.” She shrugged her shoulders.
“Porsha, you're not getting in it because you're always on Vanessa's side,” I snapped. “I know you feel the same way about me, too. I know you bitches don’t do shit but run your mouths about me when I’m not around.”
“Don’t start with me, Jasmine,” she said, holding her hands up. “I ain’t say shit to you today.”
“Not today, but I know y’all been talking about me all my life. Jealous because of how I look.”
“Yeah, you're pretty,” Vanessa muttered.
“But you done fucked more niggas than the New York judicial system.”
