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Dior tried not to act too impressed as she climbed into Lala’s Range Rover.
“I didn’t know you was pregnant,” Lala said as Dior put her seatbelt on.
“Yeah.” Dior nodded.
“Congrats. Who’s the daddy to be?”
“Brian Reese.”
“Oh, he’s a cutie,” Lala said with a smile.
Dior just smiled.
“So, what you been up to?” Lala asked. “Besides gettin’ pregnant,” she joked.
“Oh man.” Dior sighed. “Everything seems like it just got out of control in the past couple of months.”
“How? Or you don’t wanna talk about it?” Lala asked.
“I don’t know. First it was the baby. My mama usually cool so I thought she would understand, but she flipped out and won’t even talk to me.”
“That’s fucked up, but she’ll come around.”
“Did yo’ mama trip when you was pregnant?” Dior asked.
“Not really, but that was different,” Lala said as she waved her hand, that donned two rings that had to be at least three carats of the brightest diamonds set in sparkling yellow gold.
“Well, I don’t know what the hell we gon’ do. If everything was normal we’d be fine, but wit’ Brian in a wheelchair...” Dior trailed off.
“In a wheelchair?” Lala nearly screamed.
“Yeah, it’s crazy.”
“You gon’ have to tell me all about that in a minute,” Lala said as her cell phone rang through the speakers of her vehicle, replacing the music that had been playing.
“What’s up?” she answered.
“Where you at?” a female voice asked.
“On my way to lunch.”
“Wit’ who?”
“Girl, Dior.”
“Dior?”
“Yeah, from school.”
“Oh, tell her I said hey.”
“She can hear you,” Lala informed her sister.
“Hey Dior,” Nicki said happily.
“Hey Nicki,” Dior said with a smile.
“Well, ya’ll enjoy ya’ll lunch and don’t forget we gotta make that move tonight,” Nicki said before she hung up.
Lala pulled in front of a nice little restaurant and left her car with the valet.
“So, how the hell did Brian end up in a wheelchair?” She asked once they were seated and sipping on ice water.
Dior sighed and told Lala about Brian being shot on prom night.
“That’s crazy,” Lala said as she shook her head.
“I hate it. He look so sad and we don’t know if he gon’ ever walk again,” Dior said fighting back tears.
“Don’t cry girl. Just pray on it,” Lala told her.
“I do, but it ain’t working.”
“It will. Just be there for him in every way that you can.”
Dior nodded her head. She was trying to be there for Brian but it wasn’t easy.
“Okay, so you wit’ Brian, who Breeze wit’?” Lala asked, hoping to lighten the mood.
“This dude named Primo.
Dior wasn’t sure if Lala even knew who Primo was.
Lala took a long sip of water, trying to contain her surprise. It seemed that Primo had fallen right into her lap.
“I don’t think I know him,” Lala lied. “How long they been together?”
“Like eight months.”
“Oh. That’s cool. He go to school wit’ ya’ll?”
“Naw. He live out in uhh, I forget the name of the suburb. Well, they both live out there.”
“Oh, I see.”
They talked some more and Dior really enjoyed her pasta carbonara and kiwi cheesecake. She was stuffed and Lala picked up the bill, then insisted that Dior order something to go for her and Brian to have for dinner.
“Nicki just had a lil’ girl, so if you have a girl let me know and I’ll get you all of the stuff she grew out of. If you havin’ a boy I’ll give you the stuff C.J. grew out of.”
“Okay,” Dior replied with a smile.
Lala was wearing Gucci shades, Gucci sneakers, and a Seven for all Mankind outfit. Dior knew that nothing Lala’s son or her niece wore would be cheap.
“That’ll help out a lot,” she said gratefully.
“Don’t worry about it. I ain’t tryin’ to get pregnant again no time soon so they all yours.”
Lala laughed as she picked up her Prada bag.
Dior thanked Lala for lunch and dinner and promised to stay in touch as she pulled up in front of Brian’s house.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad I ran into you,” Lala said. “But look, don’t tell nobody I came through here. S.D. into it wit’ a lot of people right now and I don’t need nobody clockin’ our moves,” Lala said, not wanting Breeze to know that they were hanging out.
Dior had heard that S.D. were big drug dealers so she promised not to tell anyone that she’d seen Lala.
“Where Brian?” Dior asked as she walked into the quiet house.
“In his room,” Brandon said, not looking away from the TV.
Dior sat the food on the kitchen counter and went to see if Brian was awake.
“Baby,” she said softly as she opened his bedroom door.
“Why the fuck you ain’t tell me it was Primo that shot me?” he asked, surprising her.
“I thought you knew,” she lied.
“You thought I knew? You think I woulda had Breeze in my house if I knew that shit?” he yelled, causing her to jump.
“Why would you be mad at her for somethin’ she ain’t do?” she asked as she stepped further into the bedroom and closed the door.
“Why the fuck ain’t you mad?” he wanted to know.
“I have no reason to be mad at her. I’m mad about what happened and I wanna blame somebody, but Breeze is not responsible.”
“It don’t matter! Her man is responsible and ya’ll actin’ like the shit is cool. You think she would still fuck wit’ you if I shot his ass?” he demanded.
Dior knew that although it didn’t seem that she and Breeze were as close as they once were, they’d never turn on each other over men or anything else.
“Me and Breeze have nothin’ to do wit’ this, really, and we don’t even know for sure if Primo shot you.”
“Officer Hayes came and confirmed it today,” he corrected her.
“He did?”
“Yeah.”
“Baby, I’m pissed about it, but what good is me and Breeze not bein’ friends gon’ do?” she asked as she sat down on the bed.
Dior was really upset by the news, but she didn’t really know what she could do about it. She could tell the police where Breeze and Primo lived, but what good would that be? Who would cover the medical bills if she did that?
“I don’t know, but the shit ain’t right! If I could get outta this chair I swear I would body that nigga,” he said angrily.
“Baby calm down,” she said as she placed her hand on top of his. “I never meant to lie to you or hide nothin’ from you,” she assured him. “I just don’t know what we should do,” she confided.
“I got Primo to cover your medical bills,” she told him, hoping to put him in a more forgiving mood.
“You what?” he asked indignantly.
“It’s his fault. He should pay for it somehow,” she explained.
“You got this nigga payin’ my bills like I don’t already feel like less of a fuckin’ man bein’ stuck in this chair?” he asked.
“Brian, I’m not tryin’ to emasculate you. I was just tryin’ to help. If we send him to jail then who will that help?”
Brian thought about the question for a few seconds and he didn’t really have an answer. As much as he hated the idea of Primo walking around while he was stuck in a chair he knew that having his medical treatments covered would be a big help in the long run. The only problem was, what if Primo decided to change his mind at some point? What if him and Breeze broke up and he didn’t want to help Brian out anymore?
“I guess it wouldn’t help nobody, but I don’t like this shit,” he said as he shook his head.
“I know baby, but we can’t think of ourselves anymore. We need to do what’s best for the baby,” she reminded him as she placed his hand on her stomach.
“You right, baby.”