Wifey (3 page)

After I pulled up to the house, Ricky called Mike, his lieutenant, from his cell phone to let him know we were outside. About two seconds later, Mike walked out of the house and hopped in the back seat of my car. In the rear view mirror, I began to watch his expressions. His eyes had a fearful look in them. He knew the consequences for not being on point. He also knew the story he was getting ready to tell Ricky better be on point, too.

“Y-y-y-yo, Ricky, man,” Mike stuttered. “Them niggas took everything!”

“You mean all the food?”

“I’m talking the whole shit, dog!” Mike explained. “And they took the four Gs Jay dropped off for you.”

“Do you know who it was?” Ricky asked calmly.

“Nah.”

“How many was it?”

“Three of ’em.”

“Now, tell me how the fuck they got through that steel latch behind that door?”

“Well, when Remo came back from the corner store, I was in the back taking a shit. And when he came in the front door, he said them niggas came from around the side and rushed him.”

“What were they wearing?”

“Black Carhart overalls and masks.”

“Did you recognize their voices?”

“Nah. They ain’t sound like none of the niggas I know.”

“What is Remo saying ‘bout this shit?”

“He ain’t said nuttin.”

“Where ya’ll burners at?”

“They took ’em.”

“Do you think Remo could’ve set this shit up?”

“I don’t know, dog,” Mike said, sounding a bit unsure.

“Well, you know what’s gon’ happen, right?”

“Yeah,” Mike responded in a long sigh.

“A’ight, then. Just shut everything down and I’ll hitcha up tomorrow.”

“A’ight.”

“Oh, tell Remo I want to see him tomorrow, too.”

“A’ight.”

Mike got out of my car and headed back in the rundown-looking house. “Let’s Go,” Ricky told me. I put my car in drive and headed back on the highway toward the beach. I jumped on I-264 and drove ninety all the way home. Ricky loved it when I flooded the engines out in our cars. He said it’s hot when a chick can whip a car in and out of traffic on a highway. I could do the same thing on his Ninja. He taught me everything there was to know about driving a car and how to get my hustle on, if push ever came to shove. As I pushed my whip to the crib, I noticed how quiet Ricky had become. I knew he was thinking about doing some crazy shit. I hated when he got in this frame of mind.

“I hope you ain’t gon’ do nothing stupid to Mike and Remo,” I commented.

“I ain’t gon’ do nothing to them. But, they better be ready to work my next load off without pay.”

“You think they gon’ work off the next pack you give them without getting paid?”

“They ain’t got no choice. ‘Cause I ain’t gon let nobody take a half of brick and four Gs from me and not pay for it. Hell nah! It ain’t gon’ pop off like that!”

“You need to be trying to find out who set them up.”

“Oh, I will.”

Baby Mama Drama

The next day Ricky headed out to meet with Mike and Remo. His meeting with them didn’t take as long as I thought it would. He left the house about ten o’clock in the morning and called me about eleven, telling me he wanted me to take his daughter, Fredrica, to the mall and buy her some new sneakers. Truth be told, I didn’t like his daughter, Fredrica at all. She was so damn grown, it was pathetic. This little girl was about five years old and acted like she was fifteen. Now, his other two children were kind of cool; but Fredrica was the worst. Every time Ricky brought her by the house, she always terrible look. I knew her mama was filling her head up with a lot of nonsense ‘cause, every time I tried to tell her to do something, she always reminded me that I wasn’t her mama.

Anyway, since it was a Sunday and the mall wouldn’t be open until noon, I got up and got dressed. I met Ricky in downtown Norfolk, since he had already picked Fredrica up from her mama’s house. He was parked and pumping some gas at the BP station when I pulled up.

“Hey Fredrica,” I said to her. I was being fake, as I knew how to be.

“Hey,” she replied in a very low tone. To hear her, I had to almost stop breathing.

“What kind of sneakers am I supposed to buy her?” I asked my husband.

“I want the new Jordans!” Fredrica blurted out.

“Yeah. Get her the new black and white Jordans,” Ricky told me as he peeled off a stack of fifty-dollar bills from the roll of dough he had in his hands.

“You giving me some of that, too?” I asked him.

“Yeah, I gotcha, Ma.”

After Ricky gave me the money, I took it and stuffed it in the front pocket of my jeans. “How did your meeting go wit’ Mike and Remo?” I asked him.

“I’ll tell you ‘bout it later,” he brushed me off.

“A’ight. I guess I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

“Call me when you’re done, because I might be in the middle of something.”

“We still going out to dinner tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“A’ight then,” I said to him as I ushered Fredrica in my car and put on her seatbelt.

Military Circle Mall wasn’t packed like I thought it would be, but I did run into a few chickenheads who hate my guts. Like Tiffany, who’s a stripper at Magic City in Portsmouth. This chick really and truly thought she had it going on. I caught her a couple times, sitting in the passenger seat of Ricky’s car in front of the strip club. I went the fuck off, too. I did it because I heard he was fucking her nasty ass. But he wouldn’t ever admit to it. Every now and then I gotta remind Ricky that I’ve got eyes all over the Tidewater area, watching his every move. It ain’t all women, either. But he doesn’t care because he still does whatever he wants to do. I bet if I told him that the same niggas he be gambling with, be calling me and throwing salt on his ass, he’d have a damn fit! I ain’t gonna do that though, because all Ricky’s gonna tell me is that the reason why them niggas doing that bitch shit is because they trying to fuck me. So, I ain’t gon’ waste my time with it!

Now after Fredrica got her sneakers, I copped her a couple pairs of the latest RocaWear jeans with the shirts to match. Then we went to my favorite spot, Victoria’s Secret. I racked up on all the newest bra-and-panty sets. I even got myself a pair of bedroom slippers with three-inch heels. Ricky loved that type of shit, especially when we were trying to get our freak on. It was a must that I wear something sexy with a pair of heels on. Ricky’s dick got rock hard when he saw me dressed. That was probably one of the reasons he couldn’t stay out of them damn strip clubs. Hoes in heels with big asses was right up his alley.

On my way out of the mall, I ran into this cat named Brian. He was Ricky’s right-hand man. Now, this dude was hella fine. He was dark skinned and his body was on point. He was probably a little over six feet tall. I heard from a source of mine that if you got in the bed with this dude, he was gonna fuck the shit out of you. I believed her too, ‘cause hoes be going crazy over this nigga. Now I ain’t going to lie, if I would’ve met him before I met Ricky, me and Brian’s ass would’ve been together right now. And quiet as it’s kept, I also heard he had a humongous dick and some blazing head. Too bad. I’ll never be able to find out ‘cause screwing a nigga who works for your man was like going against the grain, and that was a no-no! I learned that from Al Pacino’s movie
Scarface:
Never fuck the help!

“What’s up!” I asked Brian.

“Nuttin, I’m just strolling through.”

“Don’t spend all your dough on
wifey.”

“Which one?” he snickered.

“Look, you can only have one wifey. The rest of the women you got are your stick girls.”

Brian laughed at me. I guess he thought I was funny. “Yo, you crazy. Whose daughter you got?”

“This is Ricky’s daughter, Fredrica. You don’t remember her?”

“Oh yeah. Damn, she done got big!”

“I know,” I commented.

“So, Ricky gotcha playing step-mommy today.”

“Something like that.”

“Well, let me go and check out one of these sneakers stores.”

“Alright. It was nice seeing you.”

“Nice seeing you too,” he smiled as he turned to walk in the other direction.

Fredrica and I got in my car and headed in the direction of my house. Right after I got on the highway, I dialed Ricky’s cell phone.

“What’s up, baby?” he asked.

“Where you at?”

“I’m taking care of some business.”

“What you want me to do with Fredrica?”

“Take her home because I’m gon’ be tied up for awhile.”

“Wait! I thought we were going out to dinner.”

“We are. But it ain’t gon’ be until about seven or eight o’clock.”

“Seven or eight o’clock?” I asked as the tone of my voice escalated.

“Yeah.”

“What the fuck you doing that I gotta wait until seven or eight o’clock?”

“I’m taking care of business,” Ricky yelled through the phone.

“Well, if you taking care of business, then why the hell you sound like you tired? What, you just ran from the police? Or are you fucking one of them stinking-ass project tricks?”

“Look,” he said, “don’t be saying no dumb shit like that in front of my daughter. And hell nah, I ain’t fucking nobody. Now, I’m getting ready to hang up on your stupid ass!”

“Yeah, you think I’m stupid,” I yelled back at him and then hung up.

Trying to calm myself down after the episode with my husband, I did a detour in the direction of Fredrica’s house. To my surprise, Fredrica remained quiet the entire drive. I did notice her rolling her eyes at me when I was talking smack to her daddy on the phone, though. And I knew she was gonna run and tell her mama what Ricky and I were fussing about. But who the fuck cared? I knew that hooker better not say shit to me about it.

When I pulled into Robert’s Park Housing Projects, I circled around the loop to get to Fredrica’s building. As I drove up in front of the apartment door, I started blowing my car horn. Fredrica immediately grabbed her shopping bags and got out of the car. The little wench didn’t even say goodbye. As I waited for her mama to open up their front door, this young-looking guy, driving an old 1995 Mazda 929 with tinted windows, pulled up in front of me and started beeping his horn, too. Now Frances must’ve heard him, because her ghetto ass came flying out her front door. When she saw Fredrica walking up the sidewalk toward her, she stopped in her tracks.

“What you doing back so fast?” I heard her ask Fredrica.

I couldn’t hear what Fredrica was saying, but I clearly heard Frances’ big-ass mouth.

“Oh, hell nah! You going right back to your daddy. He knows he’s supposed to have you today! Shit, I’m getting ready to go somewhere,” she yelled.

Then she started stepping in the direction of my car, pulling Fredrica by her arm. As Frances began to walk toward me, I wondered what in the hell did Ricky see in this chick? I mean, what possessed him to cheat on me with this trash? She wasn’t all that cute. Especially with that whack-ass weave job. Her gear looked outdated. I mean, who still wore Crest jeans? Nobody I hung out with. It couldn’t be her booty, ‘cause my ass was bigger. So what in the hell was it? To top it off, Frances tried to rock a fake-ass pair of Manolo Blahnik Timbs, knowing dag-on well she copped them from the Koreans.

“Where’s Ricky?” she asked once she approached my car.

“He’s somewhere taking care of business,” I told her in an even tone.

“Well, he think he’s slick by getting you to drop Fredrica back off to me.”

“Look Frances, he didn’t tell me nothing about he was supposed to have her today. All he told me to do was take her to the mall. And then when we were done shopping, he told me to bring her home.”

“Ricky’s a lying muthafucka! He knew I had something to do today.”

“Look, I’m just the messenger. So, I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Come on Fredrica!” Frances said to her daughter, snatching her by the arm. “‘Cause I know this bitch lying for him.” She continued talking as her words drifted from the direction in which she was walking.

After I listened to every single word Frances muttered outta her mouth, I just sat in the driver seat of my car, pissed off. I was completely about to lose it. I mean, what gave this tramp the right to have an attitude? Shit, I’m the one who should’ve had the attitude. She fucked around with my husband and got pregnant, not the other way around. So why was she marching her broke ass ‘round here like I owed her something? And talking shit at that! I wanted so badly to put my car in drive and run right over her and her grown-assed daughter. But, I remained a lady and brushed the name calling off my shoulders and took a deep breath. Besides, I didn’t want to mess up my brand new Lexus putting both of their asses into the hospital. I blew my horn to get Frances’ attention. When she looked dead at me, I smiled and said, “I’ll let my husband know what you said.”

“Well, tell him I said to kiss my ass while you at it!” she yelled back.

“Okay!” I responded.

When I took off to leave, I drove slowly just to get a look at this nigga Frances was trying to leave with. As my car passed his, he turned in my direction. He was really handsome, but he looked broke as hell with a pair of those one hundred–dollar, clustered, diamond chip earrings the Arabs sold at the mall. And he had a mouthful of gold fronts, wearing a dingy-looking wife-beater. I smiled at him and kept right on driving.

Change Of Plans

I drove to my cousin Nikki’s house immediately after I dropped Fredrica off to her mama. Nikki was about two years younger than me and very pretty. She was single with no kids and a college student at Norfolk State University. Most niggas who worked for Ricky were in love with her. But, she wasn’t thinking about their asses. Besides, she was involved with her sorority on campus and she was green as hell to the game. So why even bother with the cats that created it? Sounded logical to me.

When Nikki let me into her one-bedroom condo, she had an exhausted look on her face.

“What’s wrong wit’you?” I asked her.

“I’m just so sick of all these bills I’ve got,” she confessed as she walked over to a table in her kitchen.