Thug Matrimony (19 page)

He patted Trae on his shoulder and they left.

Tasha rushed to his side, fluffed up his pillow, and straightened out his bedding. She grabbed his hand and began smiling through the tears. “I love you, baby. And thank you for coming back to us. I knew you would. Nana and Pop-Pop said they love you more than anything and that they’ll be up in the morning.” She kissed him on the cheek. “The boys are fine, getting bigger and talking up a storm. I can’t wait for you to see them.” He placed his hand on her stomach, which caused her to smile. “Do you remember what I told you we are having?” He nodded a slow yes. “What did I say we were gonna name him?” He drew the letters C-a-l-i-p-h in her palm. “Oh my God!” she gasped. “You really could hear me. Oh my God!”

A young blond Caucasian lady came in with a name tag that read
DR. KIM WHITE, ANESTHESIOLOGIST.
“Hello, I’m Dr. White,” she said to Tasha. “I’m here to remove those irritating tubes.”

“I’m Tasha Macklin and this is my husband, Trae. And, Dr. White, he’s ready for them to come out.”

Dr. White smiled at Trae. “They’re horrible, aren’t they?” She put on a pair of surgical gloves and picked up his chart, looked it over, and placed it back down. “This will be uncomfortable, Mr. Macklin. I’ll take out the one in your nose first.” She pointed to the tube in his nose. “No more uncomfortable than what you’ve been experiencing, right?” She talked him through it, as it slid out effortlessly. When she removed the tubes from his throat a blob of green pea-soup-looking bile came out with the tubes. It splashed Tasha’s neck and cheek.

“Oh my!” Tasha squealed. “Gross.”

“Sorry about that,” Dr. White apologized. “I didn’t think it would be that bad.”

Tasha giggled as she headed for the bathroom to wipe it up.

“That’s better, isn’t it?”

Trae’s gaze was fixed on the bathroom door where his wife disappeared. Dr. White was packing up her equipment when Tasha came out of the restroom.

“What was that?” Tasha wanted to know.

“Mainly drainage and it’s backed up. It’s also mucus. I’ll page Dr. Peters and let him know that my work is done here. His throat will be sore, but after a couple of days it will heal. I would suggest that he doesn’t try to speak. Take care, Mr. Macklin.” She said it as if he were deaf. And then she was out the door.

Tasha had her husband back.

T
asha was feeling totally rejuvenated. She was feeling as if her life was starting all over, that she could now go back to living. Life was great once again.

Even though her body was extremely tired, she was up at 6:00 a.m. giving Trae a sponge bath, shave, manicure, and pedicure. She was tired and happy at the same time. He still wasn’t talking, but was now writing his words on paper.

By eight she had him fresh and clean, all propped up, ready to see the family.

She had arranged it so that when his parents came she was going to go home, take a nice hot bath, get her hair done, and then go pick up the twins from her sister’s house.

By eight thirty his parents were bursting through the door, both of them so glad to see their only child, they were literally smothering him. Mrs. Macklin stopped crying long enough to say a prayer. Tasha stepped back to allow them time with their son, and it did her heart good to see it. She slipped out to the nurses’ station to let them know she would be back by two and to call her if they needed her. She then went back into the room and debriefed his parents as to the doctor’s comments upon examination. She also relayed what was to be expected of his recovery.

“Baby.” She kissed him gently on the lips. “I’m going to go to the apartment, take a bath, and then go and get this knotty hair of mine done. After that I’ll go pick up the boys and then I’ll be back here. Okay?” She ran her fingers along his jaw. “I love you and I’ve missed you so much. I told the nurses to call me if they need me. But you should be fine with your parents,” she teased.

He nodded yes as he ran his hands over her stomach. When the baby kicked he smiled.

“Tasha, you sure you don’t want to take the whole day off? Maybe get some much-needed rest and relaxation?” Mr. Macklin asked but was really making a suggestion.

“No, Pop-Pop, I’ll be fine. Spend some time with your son. I’ll be back around two. That’s enough rest for me. Pop-Pop, I feel … like this is the very first day of a wonderful life. My husband came back to me. My family is back. I feel like doing cartwheels.” She giggled. “That wouldn’t be good, though, would it?” Trae smiled and nodded.

“Girl, don’t be doing nothing stupid,” Nana scolded.

“I won’t, Nana. I said I felt like doing cartwheels, not I’m going to do some.” She went over to Nana and kissed her on the cheek and then kissed Mr. Macklin, and then she was gone.

Phillip Johnson and Dougie drove to Newark’s Liberty International Airport to pick up Snake. They had gotten through all of the formalities during the course of several lengthy telephone conversations. Phillip circled around the airport until he saw Dougie and his old partner in crime flagging him down. The police were right behind him, giving out tickets, so Snake hurriedly threw his garment bag onto the backseat and jumped in behind it while Dougie jumped in the front. Phillip pulled off.

“Man, what’s up with the eye patch?”

“Damn, Phillip, no hello, how was your flight, how’s the family?” Snake joked.

“Nigga, I talked to yo’ fake, wannabe, pimp ass this morning,
two times yesterday, and once before that. How many times you want me to ask the same ole shit? This is a business trip, not a high school reunion,” Phillip snapped.

Snake tapped Dougie on his shoulder. “What the fuck does my eye patch have to do with business? How do you put up with this control freak? It’s always business with him. I guess that’s why yo’ paper so long, right?” Snake teased.

“And you know this, mannnn!” Phillip joked back.

“I’m feelin’ this ride, man. A got damn Bentley Continental! This bitch goes up to 195 miles a hour. Damn, nigga! You really have come up. So what was so urgent that you had to see me today? I had other shit to do.”

“Nigga, don’t try to skip the subject. What happened to your eye? I doubt if it’s a fashion statement.”

“I got hit in it, man. It’s completely damaged. I only have about ten percent vision in it and it’s very sensitive to light, even sunlight. So that’s why I keep it covered. But it’s cool, the bitches still like it.”

“I’m sure they do.”

“So what’s up?”

“Several things. You and I have the same people and issues in common. A nigga and a bitch that’s in our way.”

“Oh, really?” Snake’s interest was piqued. “Who?”

“Kaylin.”

“Kaylin?” To say that Snake was surprised was an understatement.

“Yeah, you heard me right. Small fuckin’ world, ain’t it?”

“Well, I’ll be damned. What? He fuckin’ your woman too?”

“No but he’s fuckin’ with my paper and that’s not as bad but worse. He pulled this bitch I signed, and I got major attitude.”

“So what does this have to do with me?”

“You owe me a favor, if my memory serves me right. And I’m a very public figure now. I can’t be getting my hands dirty.”

“I can’t get mine dirty either, shit. I’m a pimp, nigga!”

“Yeah, and a broke pimp at that who needs major stacks. ‘Cause
according to Uncle Steve you only got three hoes and them bitches lookin’ for a job.”

“Ha, ha, ha. You scary punk muthafucka, you gots to remind me to fuck you up like a broke pimp would do! So watch yo’ mouth. Uncle Steve don’t know what the fuck I got,” Snake snapped.

“Anyway, so what about the favor you owe?” Phillip glared back at him through the rearview mirror.

Snake didn’t reply at first. He mumbled under his breath and shot glances at Phillip and Dougie. “What the fuck you need done? I know you got niggas to handle your dirty work. What the fuck, P?”

“Man, this is a special job. I don’t feel right or see myself giving it to any ole joe blow or else I would have been done it. This is too important. And I can’t be linked to this shit in no kinda way. Shit, nigga, you do owe me. What, I gotta throw in sumthin extra? Damn, nigga, what you need? Cash, a coupla birds, what?”

“What you need done, man?” Snake asked reluctantly.

“Can you believe this nigga?” Phillip asked Dougie.

“I told you he was going to want sumthin,” Dougie stated matter-of-factly.

“Well, I’ll be damned. You sure called it,” Phillip told him.

“Oh, so now y’all niggas gonna just sit there and talk about me like I ain’t even here?”

Phillip pulled into JE’s, a diner on Halsey Street in Newark. “Let’s talk this shit over some grub.” He pulled into a parking spot and the three men poured out of the ‘07 Bentley convertible. He gave Snake a brotherly hug. “Even though you trippin’ it’s good to see you, man. And it was real good talking to Uncle Steve. That nigga takin’ pimpin’ and hustlin’ to the grave. I bet you, him and Dino still treat yo’ ass like a snot-nose punk, don’t they?”

“Hell yeah. They still getting on my nerves thirty years later.”

Dougie and Phillip laughed as they made it inside the crowded diner, bypassed the customers in line, placed their orders, and found them a booth.

“You look good, man. So, tell me, where the fuck you been? And how you gonna leave the fabulous East Coast for the dirty South?” Phillip wanted to know.

Dougie opened up his case that held his black-'n-milds and lit one before offering Snake a stick.

“No, thanks.” Snake waved him off.

The waitress came by to take their orders. As soon as she left, Phillip nodded for him to tell his story.

“After some bitch tried to poison and kill me, I stayed in a hospital in Philly for almost a month. After that my uncle Dino put me on to his hookup in Canada and I was over there for those few years. My physical therapy took damn near a year by itself. I had broken bones in over four spots. By that third year everybody started acting like they missed a nigga. The only time I eased back over here was when they told me where my ho, Nell, was. I had to do to her what the bitch did to me. An eye for an eye.”

“Damn, man, one of your own hoes tried to kill you? That’s fucked up. So why Miami? How long you gonna leave the money-makin’ East?”

“Nigga, please, there are plenty of hoes in Miami. Plus, I needed a change, a new start for a new me.”

“New you? Nigga, you still pimpin’ bitches! Ain’t shit new about that!” Phillip cracked.

“Nigga, I don’t know why you tryna sleep on the M-I-A. I’m just getting my foot on solid ground. There’s a lot of money to be made down there.”

“Man, you need to find you a legit hustle and stop the bull-shittin’. Ya ass gettin’ too old to be doing time. That’s where I come in at. You handle this for me and you won’t have to get your hands dirty again. Invest in sumthin legit. That is unless you want to, which would be stupid.”

“I’m listening.”

“First, tell me why the fuck you going around crashing weddings and shit. That’s some crazy shit, man. What, she was making millions on the track?”

“Man, go ‘head with that bullshit. That’s “wifey,” right there. All I wanna know is: How in the fuck she gonna try to marry some other nigga? She know better than that shit!”

Dougie and Phillip burst out laughing but stopped when the waitress put the food in front of them.

“Okay, look nigga.” Phillip wasted no time digging into his mile-high whiting platter. “I got this little white bitch who done switched sides and went with that nigga Kaylin. She over there feedin’ them all types of bullshit. Talking about she pregnant and shit.”

“Well, is she?” Snake asked while trying to swallow a mouthful of corn bread.

“Yeah, so what? Since she says it’s mine and she ain’t my wife I want that baby stomped the fuck out of her and then I want the bitch to disappear.”

Snake let out a chuckle. “You want me to kill a baby? Why didn’t you just make the bitch get an abortion?”

“Nigga, are you listening to me? I want her and the baby put to sleep,” Phillip coldly stated. “If I can’t pimp her the next nigga sure enough ain’t. I know you can dig that. Plus, it’s fifty thou in it for you.”

Snake looked at him. Then looked over at Dougie. They both could see the wheels churning in his head, considering what all he could do with fifty g’s.

“Make it one hundred and you got yourself a deal.”

“Nigga, fifty. You still owe me, remember?”

“One hundred. I need to go legit, man. Plus, you talking about two bodies.”

“Fifty, son, take it or I’ll make it three bodies,” Phillip gritted.

“Y’all ready to go see Daddy?” Tasha asked the twins as she had them seated in the gift shop tying “Get Well” balloons on each of their wrists. “Daddy misses both of you.” She helped them off their chair and they headed for the elevator. She spoke
to several people as she passed them by. She was indeed a regular. The guard monitoring the desk and elevators loved her. For the last three months he had made extra money allowing visitors up to see them, all day, every day.

The twins’ eyes grew large as the elevator rose higher. This was the only time of day that they remained still. But as soon as the doors opened, they ran.

“Shaheem, Kareem. Hold it right there.” They stopped but bounced up and down in place. She grabbed them both by their hands and led them to the room.

The door was open and Tasha’s heart felt as if it skipped a beat. Trae was sitting up eating a meal consisting of soft foods.

“Baby,” she squealed. “You’re sitting up eating.” She and the twins bum-rushed the bed.

“Daddy, Daddy”, they yelled.

Trae pushed his tray of food over to the side and smiled as he admired his family.

“Where’s Nana and Pop-Pop?”

“Here we are,” Nana said, as Pop-Pop followed behind her. “We went down to the cafeteria and snuck Trae up a few things.”

Mr. Macklin held his hands up in surrender. “I ain’t have nothing to do with this.”

“Nana, what did you get him? He should only eat what the doctor ordered.”

“It’s only some broccoli cheddar soup, some real applesauce.” She turned up her nose at the tray they brought him. “And some fresh-squeezed carrot juice. That’s the best of what they had down there, but it will hold him until I can get home and cook him sumthin better.”