Ginger
Back It Up
Kentland, Maryland was hot as shit the day Trixy Greggs stepped her funky ass up to me. I was sittin’ in front of Carmen and her sister’s house smokin’ a blunt when she walked up with some bullshit. You’d never know it, but six months ago, we were cool; that is, until I bumped my head after returning home from vacation one night, resulting in a memory loss. When I came to, my best friend was missin’, people were mad at me, and my boyfriend, Milli, was actin’ different.
“That’s fucked up what you did to Quita!” she said, sweat pouring down her face, causing her makeup to streak. “Just ’cause she spanked your daughter for pissin’ on herself.”
“Bitch, that’s between me and Quita, and you ain’t got shit to do wit’ it.”
“What you gonna do, slice my throat too?” she taunted.
“If that’s what you want!” She took a step closer, and I said, “Trixy, I’m warnin’ you. Step outta my face.”
She laughed and said, “ And what kind of mother are you? If my baby was taken by Child Protective Services, I’d be tryin’ to get her back, not outside runnin’ my mouth.”
“Bitch, get your rotten-pussy ass outta my face.”
“Come on, Trixy,” her best friend Shonda said while pulling her arm. “This bitch ain’t worth it.”
“Fuck that!” she said, shaking Shonda off. “I wonder if Milli feel the same way.” She smirked.
Bitches loved sayin’ Milli’s name outta they mouths. He ran Kentland, and every bitch in Kentland wanted him, but he chose me.
“What you tryin’ to say, Trixy?” My True Religion jeans were damp with sweat.
“Come on, Trix.” Shonda interrupted again, her light skin flushed. “You don’t want shit to go too far.” The look on their faces told me they knew something I didn’t.
“Why don’t you just move the fuck from around here? Don’t nobody even fuck wit’ you no more!” Trixy said.
“I wanna know what you meant by saying Milli’s name outta your mouth,” I said, ready to drop her ass.
She laughed and said, “All I know is, you betta not kiss him on them sexy-ass lips of his anytime soon.”
I snapped. When I came to, half of the cheap-ass weave she had in her head was on the ground by my feet, and she had bald spots in places her hair shoulda been. I had beaten the brakes off of her ass in a pair of black Dior heels.
“You think I did somethin’ now, you betta be glad my Benz wasn’t parked on the curb. I got shit in my trunk for bitches like you!”
I saw my friend Nicky push through the crowd. “Come on, Ginger. We gotta go—now!” She pulled my arm as the police sirens grew louder. They were close.
“You ain’t did shit but make me mad!” Trixy said. “And before the night is over, you gon’ see me again.”
“Bitch, take your bald-headed ass in the house and look in the mirror! I did more than just make you mad!”
Trixy was right about one thing: After that shit she just pulled, she was definitely gonna see me again.
Me and Nicky were on the way to my house when about fifteen kids blocked our path. Five of them belonged to Nicky’s cousin Stevie, and they all looked dirty and nasty, but Crystal’s fresh seventeen-year-old ass was the worst of them all. I couldn’t stand that little bitch, and I think she knew it.
I caught her sitting on my car one day and asked her to get off. She rolled her eyes, and later that day I saw scratches on my paint job. She was just like her mother—a little whore in the making.
“Hey, Aunt Nicky, you know where Mama at?” she said, resting her hand on her hips.
She was talkin’ to Nicky but looking at me.
“I like your shoes, Ginger.”
“Thanks,” I said nonchalantly.
Everything I wore was designer, including the Fendi shades I propped up in my shoulder-length hair and the white Armani T-shirt that clung to my back.
Crystal’s younger sister, Melli, who I believed was slightly retarded, stood next to her. She never said much but hi and bye.
“I want some sunflower seeds and a pickled sausage,” Melli said outta nowhere.
“Shut up and wait!” Crystal said, yanking her arm. “Aunt Nicky, we hungry and can’t find Ma.”
“Well, she ain’t with me. When I see her I’ma give her your message,” she said, pushing past them.
Crystal stomped away, yanking her sister by the arm.
“That’s sad. Stevie ain’t get Melli no help yet. She act like she retarded.”
“She ain’t retarded!” She laughed. “Just slow.”
“Y’all keep thinkin’ that shit if you want to, but something’s wrong wit’ that li’l girl.”
When I turned around, I saw Melli looking at me. Oh, well. I was too hot and mad to give a fuck if she heard me or not. I just had my third fight for the week, and Milli was gettin’ tired of my shit.
“Why you and Trixy beefin’?” Nicky asked.
“I wish I knew. I know if she don’t keep Milli’s name outta her mouth, I’ma put somethin’ to her ass, Nicky. I’m all the way serious ’bout that shit.”
“You ain’t got to tell me.” She laughed. “Everybody in the neighborhood know you got a temper.” I put my shades on and she said, “She ask you if you remember again?”
“She ain’t ask me, but I’m sick of people not believin’ I don’t remember shit. What I gotta lie for? If anything, I feel like people keepin’ shit from me. Nobody understands what it’s like to lose your memory, only to wake up and have your best friend missin’. You heard anything about Leona?”
“Naw, but you know I’d tell you if I did,” she said, searching my eyes.
“Shit just don’t feel right,” I said. “I feel like me falling and Leona being missin’ connects somehow. It don’t help that her parents think I had somethin’ do with it.”
“Ginger, I don’t know about her parents, but people around here are upset. It’s been six months, and the police be around here every other day askin’ questions. And her father being a police officer makes shit worse. You ever thought about moving?”
“What, and leave Milli?”
“Take him with you.”
“He don’t wanna move, even though we don’t really live together anyway. Plus, he make too much money over here.” I swallowed hard because I wanted to ask her somethin’ I didn’t want to know the answer to. “You think Milli cheatin’?”
We stopped walkin’ and she said, “Ginger, there’s a luxury tax when you fuck wit’ rich niggas. You don’t get to floss wit’out a price, and it’s time you recognize that shit.”
“I hear you, but there’s a luxury tax when you fuck wit’ a bad bitch too, Nicky. It ain’t like I can’t get another man to do for me what Milli do.”
“Can you? And if you could, why would you? All rich niggas cheat, Ginger. It’s their right. Just one bitch ain’t enough.”
She just said some bullshit, but I said, “So you sayin’ he’s cheatin’?”
“I think he’s a nigga, and niggas gonna do nigga shit.”
“Nigga shit or not, if I find out he’s fuckin’ around on me, I’d cut his ass off quick. And he betta hope that’s just it.”
“That’s on you—but it wouldn’t be me. Look at your arm. How many bitches you know wit’ a four carat diamond bracelet? You should let some shit pass.”
She was referring to the diamond bracelet Milli got me when we first got together. I cherished this bracelet because it was the first thing he ever bought me.
Nicky knew a lot about rich niggas ’cause hustlers loved her. She let ’em do what they wanted as long as the money flowed. A little shorter than me at five foot four, she had a big personality and big-ass titties. It didn’t hurt that she was a cute redbone.
“I know you twenty-six years old . . . one year older than me, but you talk old as shit sometimes,” I said.
“I just know niggas. But to answer your question, I don’t think he fuckin’ Trixy.”
Maybe that’s why she let her cousin Stevie fuck her ex-boyfriend Raheem, who she was wit’ for two years, and get away with it. Nicky was all about the money, and nothin’ else mattered, not even love.
“Now, if you want somebody else to have him, then let him go,” she continued. “He wouldn’t be on the market long.”
I wish I would see another bitch wit’ Milli. That nigga had me in a new Benz every six months. His name wasn’t Milli for nothin’! At twenty-six he was already a self-made millionaire.
“Come on, Nick. That ain’t even in the talk.”
“Well then, drop that shit and focus on gettin’ your daughter back. When you gotta go to court for slicin’ Quita anyway?”
“Next week.”
“Umph. Well, I would steer clear of trouble if I were you. Let me go in the house real quick. I’m comin’ back later to hit a jay wit’ you,” she said, runnin’ up the street.
When I walked up the steps in front of my house, I tensed up seeing the dark brown blood stain. It was the place where I fell and lost my memory. No matter how hard I scrubbed, it never went away; and no matter how hard I wished, my memory of that night never came back.
Once inside my house, I was lonely. Lately, Milli hadn’t been the same, and I missed him. What was the use of havin’ money if you alone all the time?
I locked the front door and grabbed the trash bag in the kitchen to put it out back. The moment I opened my back door, I saw Gerron, my next-door neighbor, doin’ push-ups in his backyard. Sweat poured from his body, and his muscles buckled under the hot summer sun.
It didn’t help that he was so damn sexy. Who works out in no shirt and a pair of jeans? He looked like Columbus Short from the movie Stomp the Yard, but a few years older. He had the same full lips and smooth caramel skin and body.
We had a funny kinda relationship. I used to be able to talk to him about anything, but after I fell, even he treated me differently. I went over his house a couple of times to talk to him, to ask if he remembered anything about that night, but he kept saying he didn’t know anything. I think he was lying.
I took the lid off the can and acted like I didn’t see him when he said, “You up there fightin’ them cluckin’ bitches again?” He stopped doing his sets and stood up.
“You talkin’ to me?”
“I never stopped talkin’ to you. I just ain’t wanna talk ’bout what you wanted to talk about.”
“How you hear ’bout the fight?”
“I know everything.”
And then he looked at me with those eyes—the eyes that almost get me in trouble whenever I’m around him.
“Stop lookin’ at me like that,” I said.
“Why? You finally admittin’ you want a nigga?”
“Not even. We could never take it there, ’cause I have a boyfriend and you a stick-up dude.”
“Come on, Ginger!” he said, patting his face with a white towel. “First off, you don’t know what I do to earn my paper.” He breathed heavily. “You goin’ off what these muthafuckas ’round here say. Have I ever hit that nigga you wit’?”
“Naw.”
“A’ight then.” He smiled slyly. “Now, come on over here so I can taste that pussy.”
My heart jumped. He never talked to me like that, and it made me wonder why. Part of me was angry, but the other part was turned on.
“Oh, so what? Now you gonna disrespect me?”
“That’s disrespecting you, by askin’ can I taste your pussy?”
“What . . . what you think?”
He laughed and said, “Yeah, a’ight. Then why you still out here?”
“Boy, this my house, and I do what I want to.”
He laughed. “Look, bottom line, you wit’ a nigga who could care less about you, yet you push away a nigga that’s been feelin’ you from day one. But you gonna need me one day.” He put the gun that was sittin’ on his step in his waist and threw his white T-shirt over his shoulder. “I just hope it ain’t too late.”
I hated his ass! Don’t get it twisted; Gerron was sexy, but not sexier than Milli. Milli’s six foot two inch frame floated over my five foot six inch frame just right. Plus, Milli could afford me, and Gerron’s money was too iffy. You could make but so much robbin’ other niggas.
When I went into the house, I got me a bottle of water and decided to call Milli, since I hadn’t spoken to him all day. I grabbed my cell outta my Gucci.
“What it do, babes?” he said, answering the phone after the third ring. His voice was raspy and sexy as usual.
“I can’t wait to see you tonight.”
“Why you sound like you stressin’? That cop been ’round the way again askin’ ’bout Leona?”
“Naw, not today.” I sat on the couch and flipped my shoes off to rub my sore feet. The air from the open window cooled me off. When I saw my hands were red with blood from beatin’ Trixy’s fat ass, I went in the kitchen to wash them.
“Let me send you on that vacation.”
I walked back into the living room and sat on the sofa. “I don’t wanna leave if you not goin’ wit’ me.”
“I told you I can’t get away right now, but I still want you to enjoy yourself. Shit, take Nicky wit’ you.”
“Maybe,” I said, not feelin’ like bein’ stuck wit’ her for a whole week. I think he wanted me gone for a while, too, because the cops were hassling me. But if I left, what’s to say the cops would have too?
“Man, let me know when you ready,” he continued. “And why you ain’t answer your phone when I hit you earlier?”
“The house phone?”
“Yeah. I told you I was gonna call you back.”
“Oh . . . uh . . . I was up the street.”
“What you doin’ up there?” he said as if he knew I was in another fight.
“Talkin’ to Carmen. They invited me to a party.”
“Oh. They ain’t still talkin’ ’bout the fall, are they? I’m tired of niggas gettin’ in your business.”
“Not really.”
“You know I’m diggin’ all the way in that pussy when I see you, right? You been playin’ wit’ yourself lately?”
“Yeah, but I want you to do it for me.” I figured I might as well tell him about the fight since he was in a good mood thinking about my pussy. If there was one thing he loved to do, fuckin’ was it. I caught him several times jacking off. I thought he had a sex addiction.
“Baby . . . I fought Trixy today.”
“What the fuck happen this time?”
“She said some shit I ain’t like.”
“Why you can’t walk away from the ordinary and step up when necessary? You actin’ young and dumb, always believin’ these bitches when they tell you I fucked them. Your temper is outta control, Ginger. You gotta get that shit right. It’s gonna get you in a lot of trouble.”
I was just gettin’ ready to plead my case when someone threw a bottle with fire through my window. When it hit my hardwood floor, it broke and the flames spread. I threw water on it and smothered the rest with one of the couch pillows. Then I ran to my front door, opening it up to see some skinny bitch with black shorts running up the street. She was one of Trixy’s friends, and I couldn’t wait to catch that bitch later.
“Ginger! What the fuck is up?” I heard Milli yell.
“Tell Trixy her ass is as good as dead!” I screamed.
I was so mad I didn’t care if Milli was on the phone or not, but now I had to deal with him. I put the phone to my ear.
“What the fuck is goin’ on, Ginger?”
“Some hatin’-ass bitch just threw fire though the window!”
I looked at the shattered glass on my living room floor and flopped down on the sofa.
“I heard you scream. You a’ight?” Gerron asked, coming through my back door.
I put my hand over my cell and whispered, “Yeah, but Milli’s on the phone. You gotta go.”
He frowned and walked out.
“Ginger, maybe you should move. Shit gettin’ serious.”
“I’m not lettin’ no dumb-ass bitches run me from outta my house.”
“Who you talkin’ to, baby?” I heard a woman say in the background on the phone.
Click.
“Hello?”
I called him back four times, and each call went to voicemail. I was so mad I felt like fightin’ again. He waited five minutes before calling back.
“Milli, what’s up? Who was that bitch in the background ?”
“Nobody. Tracey playin’ too much.”
My cell phone beeped because my battery was running low. I wanted to say I’d call him on my house phone, but I needed to know the truth first.
“Your cousin?”
“Yeah. Who the fuck you think I’m talkin’ ’bout?”
I didn’t believe him, and for the first time ever, I tested his loyalty. “Milli, put her on the phone.”
Although I’d never met Tracey because she didn’t like me and I didn’t like her, I knew her voice when I heard it. And that was only because whenever she watched my daughter, I always called to check on her.
“So, you don’t trust me?” he said with an attitude.
Normally I back down, but this time, I was standin’ my ground. “I wanna talk to her.”
A few seconds later, Tracey got on the phone and said, “What the fuck you want wit’ me?”
It was her.
A second later, Milli returned to the phone and said, “You gonna wish you never doubted me.”
Click.
What the fuck was I thinking? If Milli cut me off, how was I gonna take care of myself?
I put my shoes on and stood up. Glass was everywhere and crushed under my feet. I plugged my cell phone up to the charger and decided to call him back on my house phone, but when I picked up the handset, someone was on the line.
“Milli. Is this you?”
“H–hello. Can Renee talk on the phone please?” a little girl asked.
For the past two weeks, this little bitch got my number mixed up with Shonda’s next door, and every time she did, it got on my fuckin’ nerves. If I spoke to Shonda, I would have told her to set her ass straight.
“How many times I gotta tell you, you callin’ the wrong number?”
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
“Don’t be sorry, stop fuckin’ callin’ my house!” I slammed the phone down and rubbed my aching forehead.
After I hung up, I called Nicky because I needed somebody to talk to. She would probably give me that luxury tax bullshit, but she was all I had since Leona left. I missed Leona so much. She was so good with things like this.
When Nicky answered I said, “When you comin’ back over?”
“Fifteen minutes. Why?”
“Hurry up. I’m blown and I need to hit that jay.”
“I’m gettin’ dressed now. Rico just stopped by and we beefin’, so give me about twenty minutes,” she said, referring to her boyfriend.
“A’ight . . . and I’ma tell you ’bout the fire somebody threw in my window when you get here.”
“See, this what the fuck I’m talkin’ ’bout. Every time I come over here, your ass is on the phone. This why our relationship ain’t workin’. Everybody else more important than me,” Rico said in the background, sounding like a stone cold bitch.
“I’ll talk to you later,” I said. “Before you come, can you bring the money you owe me? Me and Milli beefin’, and he might cut me off like he usually do when he mad, and I need to build back up my stash.”
“Yeah, I’ll ask Rico for it,” she said with a slightly different attitude. I hate when people make you feel bad for askin’ for your money back. “Me and Stevie will be over in a minute,” she said, hanging up.
Damn, I wished she’d just leave Stevie’s ass home so I could talk to her alone. Who hangs out with somebody who fucked their man anyway, cousin or not?
When I got off the phone with her, I prepped the rest of my dinner for the night. Through my window I could see the back of Gerron’s house, and I started to walk over there to talk to him, but knew that would turn into somethin’ else.
I swept the glass up from my floor and made me a glass of Bacardi Limon, straight up. I had to refill my glass four times. After that, I turned my stereo on and Usher’s “Love You Gently” blasted from the speakers; then I put on Lil Wayne’s Tha Carter III CD. I decided to wait outside for Nicky, but hoped I’d see the bitch who threw somethin’ in my house. I swear these bitches wouldn’t be satisfied until I killed somebody.
I was lookin’ at a group of kids fighting each other when my phone rang again. I ran into the house, grabbed it, and walked back outside.
“Hello!” I said, hoping it was Milli. I missed him already.
“Can Renee talk on the phone?”
“Why you keep callin’ my house?” I sighed.
“I keep gettin’ the number mixed up. I’m sorry.”
“How come I don’t believe you?”
Silence.
“What’s your name?” I continued.
“Rhianna.” I laugh, knowing she’s lying. “Are you busy, Ginger?” I thought it was weird that she knew my name, but figured if she caught my voice mail, she could’ve gotten it from there.
“So, now you wanna talk to me instead of Renee?”
“Yes.”
“And what do you want to talk to me about?”
“I wanted to tell you that I heard my mommy say that some man in a red car is gonna set your friend Nicky up.”
My heart drops. “Fuck you talkin’ ’bout, set her up?”
“My mommy be playin’ Spades wit’ her friends, and I heard them say that yesterday.”
“Who’s your mother?” I stand up. “’Cause if you knew me, you wouldn’t be pullin’ no bullshit like this!”
Click.
“Hello! Hello!” I screamed into the handset.
“Who you yellin’ at now, girl?” Nicky asked, walking up to me. She sat on the step beside me, and her cousin Stevie sat a few steps down from us, singing along to the music in my house.
I put the phone down, tryin’ to decide if I should tell her about the call or not.
“Ain’t nobody, girl. They must’ve h–had the wrong number, I stutter.
Nicky was wearing a cute green Gucci tank top and a pair of Bulgari shades. “Here’s the money I borrowed from you last week,” Nicky said, handing me my cash. She would probably borrow it back before the week was out.
Stevie looked at the money Nicky handed me, and I saw a twinge of jealousy in her eyes. She gave me a lot of twenties, but it was cool. I tucked all three grand in my pocket.
The moment I sat down, I saw an unmarked police car pull up. He might as well have driven a marked car, because we’d seen Officer Harvey Chance so many times ’round here, we could smell him miles away.
“How are you doing this evening, ladies?” he said as he approached us. He wore a pair of black designer slacks and a black shirt. His black-and-grey Fendi glasses sat comfortably on the bridge of his nose. Although he irritated the fuck out of me, he was very attractive.
“Ms. Spellman, have you heard anything about Leona Clairmont?”
“I already told y’all I ain’t hear shit and don’t know shit. She was my friend. Why wouldn’t I tell y’all if I knew somethin’?”
I saw a few people lookin’ at me talkin’ to him, and hated that this was the main reason my neighborhood wanted me gone. With the cops comin’ around all the time askin’ me questions, it made it hard to sell drugs, and customers were going to other blocks.
“We don’t know, but it seems unnatural that she’d disappear off the face of the earth without anybody knowing anything. You were the last person she called, and she hasn’t been seen or heard from since.”
“Well, like I told y’all before, I was out of town when she called me, and y’all already checked the cell records.”
He looked at me, Nicky, and then Stevie. “Well, I’ll be in touch again,” he said, walking toward his car.
Sometimes I think he asked me the same questions just to see me go the fuck off. A few of my neighbors shook their heads at me and walked in the house. I thought it was kinda funny that they were mad at me because they couldn’t do illegal shit because of the cops. I mean really—get a fuckin’ job!
When Officer Chance got in his car and waved, I threw up my middle finger.
“You talk to Milli about the fight yet?” Nicky asked, looking at the cop go out of sight.
“Yeah, but that window shit got me fucked up now.”
Nicky stood up, dusted the dirt off her ass, and looked in my front window at the burn on the floor. She sat back down and said, “I don’t see how you stay around here. Unless they find Leona, shit not gonna go away.”
“So maybe they’ll find her.”
“Yeah, right.” She laughed, looking at Stevie.
That hurt. I wanted nothin’ more than to see my friend’s face.
“I mean really, Ginger, what’s so good about Kentland anyway? Why not just move?”
“It’s the principle, plus, I ain’t do shit to move.”
“I heard some bitches up the street say they gonna step to you again, Ginger,” Stevie added with a smirk on her face. “You don’t want ’em fuckin’ wit’ your car next.”
“Who said that shit?”
“I ain’t gettin’ in it. I’m just lettin’ you know ’cause we cool.”
I was thinking, Why even say something?
When Crystal spotted her mother at my house and ran up to us, a rack of kids followed. The moment they got in my space, I could smell the sweat and dirt from their skin and wanted to throw up.
“Ma, can I have five doooolllllaaaas?” Crystal asked, dragging her words.
“What you ’bout to buy?”
“A hot sausage and some nacho cheese sunflower seeds.”
“Bring me some seeds back too,” Stevie said, reaching into her pocket, just like she did whenever she pretended to have money. When her hands came out empty, she patted her pockets as if some would magically appear. “You got any money on you, Nicky? I’ll give it back to you when I get my check on the first.”
“I ain’t got shit but a C-note. I just gave Ginger all my money,” she said, looking at me.
No, bitch, you just gave me all my money, I thought.
“Please, Miss Ginger!” Crystal whined, the other kids chiming in too.
I started to tell them broke-ass bitches to get the fuck off my step; instead, I dug in my pockets and pulled out twenty dollars. I handed the bill to Crystal and said, “Buy everybody somethin’.”
She snatched the money out of my hands and ran. Do you know this nasty bitch ain’t even say thank you, and her mother didn’t make her either?
“She said buy us all somethin’,” one of the boys reminded Crystal as they ran down the street. “It ain’t just for you.”
“You bring the jay?” I asked, shaking my head at the foolishness.
“Naw, a friend of mine on his way to see me. He usually got smoke too.”
“I thought you had one rolled up already.”
“I did, but somebody decided to help themselves to my shit,” she said, looking at Stevie and rolling her eyes.
“Shit, you was takin’ all day, so I fired up.”
“Fuck that shit, Stevie! I was lookin’ forward to blazin’. Now you got us out here on a natural.”
“I told you I got money on the next pack,” she lied. She never had money on shit.
“You ain’t even have money to give your kids,” Nicky said, saying what I was thinking.
My attention was briefly taken off her and put on the group of girls who walked by my house. They hung with Trixy.
“Is it hot in there?” one of the girls said.
“Bitch, what you say?” I yelled, standing up.
“Take that shit down the street,” Nicky jumped in. “Y’all don’t want to see Ginger go off.”
They all looked at me, laughed, and walked away. I was contemplating running up to them, but my phone rang. I didn’t want to answer. That girl had me shook. But what if it was, Milli?
“Hello.”
“Is Ginger Spellman available?”
“Bitch, you called my house. Who the fuck is this?”
“Ms. Spellman, this is Lucy Cunningham from the office of Child Protective Services. Is now a bad time?”
I stood up straight, threw on my professional voice, and said, “Oh . . . uh . . . no. I thought you were somebody playin’ on my phone.”
“I see. Well, can you turn the music down in the background a little? I can barely hear you.”
I rushed inside the house, turned the music down, and stood inside at the front of the glass door.
“That’s better,” she said. “I’m calling about Denise Knox. Is she your daughter?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, I’m calling to tell you that we have detected crack cocaine in her system.”
“Fuck you talkin’ ’bout!”
“Like I said, crack is in the child’s system. We tested her because she was exhibiting behavior befitting a child who has been exposed to drugs. She wets the bed frequently, her behavior is irrational—”
“She’s a child!” I interrupted.
“Ma’am, we’ve seen enough children to know the symptoms, therefore, we have scheduled an appointment with you on Monday of next week.”
“Ma’am, there’s been a mistake. I don’t even know anybody on crack.”
“We’ll see about that when we meet you. You’ll also have to submit to testing yourself.”
There was no use reasoning with this bitch, so I said, “Okay, but where is she right now? I been callin’ all over, but nobody seems to know nothin’.”
“I’ll get to that in a minute, ma’am.” She paused. “Now . . . we need you to bring us proof of employment when you come, so that we can make an evaluation on Denise’s placement, that is, in the event things work out for you in criminal court. You are facing very serious charges.”
This bitch made my blood boil. “I got all that, but can you tell me where they have my baby?”
“She’s with—” She paused and I heard the sound of papers shuffling in the background. “Let’s see . . . she’s at Terrod Knox’s cousin’s house. Her name is Tracey Knox. Terrod is the child’s father, right?”
“Yeah. When did she get there?” I asked, confused. “And why couldn’t she stay with my mother like I asked?”
“Because your mother works two jobs and is unable to care for her. The only other alternative is foster care, and I know you don’t want that. So she was sent to Tracey’s house about an hour ago.”
Milli probably didn’t know where she was when I spoke to him earlier. I was just happy she was with family, even if it was Tracey.
“Now, if everything is in order after my evaluation, she can be back in your custody. Bring the documentation I asked for and work things out in court.”
“Okay. I should be able to do that.”
“How are you supporting yourself?”
“I have a job.”
“Well, I need verification from your employer. You must understand, Ms. Spellman, the kind of violence you exhibited in front of those children at the daycare center was very serious. It’s a wonder you’re not still in jail. The child care provider could have died.”
“That dumb bitch Quita hit my baby!” I blurted out, causing Nicky and Stevie to look back at me. “I don’t play that shit!”
Silence.
“Ms. Spellman, I’m going to also recommend that you attend anger management classes. Now, I hope you have a nice day, because the woman whose throat you cut probably won’t.”
I threw the phone into the wall, but it didn’t break.
I was just puttin’ my thoughts together when I saw a red Acura pull up in front of my house. Nicky smiled at the driver and trotted down the steps toward him.
Was that the car Rhianna was talkin’ about on the phone? I pulled open my door, bolted down the steps, and yelled, “Nicky, wait!”