Kitty-Kitty, Bang-Bang

filled wit’ a buncha shit for ’er.”

Chanel coughs, chokin’ on weed smoke. “Ugh, that’s some nasty shit right there.”

“Oh well.”

“Bitch, I still think ya ass is crazy as fuck. I’m glad ya ass at least came to ya senses where da baby’s concerned.”

“Mmmph. That lil’ muhfucka is lucky. ’Cause trust, had I not walked in on them bitches doin’ that sonogram, it woulda been scraped out ’n tossed in da toilet.” Chanel stares at me, then blinks ’er eyes. I shrug. “Whaaat? I’m keepin’ shit real.”

“Whateva. All that matters is that you didn’t. We gotta lotta shit to get done before da baby comes home. I’m kinda excited ’bout bein’ an auntie.”

I stop choppin’, snappin’ my head in ’er direction. “Whoa, whoa…pump ya brakes, boo. What da fuck is you talkin’ ’bout?”

“I’m talkin’ ’bout da baby. After it’s born, aren’t you takin’ it?”

I buck my eyes, shakin’ my head. “Bitch, I said I changed my mind ’bout pullin’ da damn plug. I ain’t say nuthin’ ’bout bringin’ no baby up in here. Where da fuck you get me takin’ a baby outta that?”

She tilts ’er head, frownin’. “Ummm, it’s ya lil’ brotha or sista, so why da fuck wouldn’t you?”

I look at ’er ass like she’s one’a the dizziest hoes alive. “Ho, I gotta life, that’s why.”

“So you mean to tell me you’re gonna abandon ya own blood; is that what da fuck you tellin’ me?”

“Abandon? Ho, I ain’ abandonin’ shit. It doesn’t know me. And I don’t know it. So how is that me abandonin’ it?”

“It’s ya blood. It’s a baby you know exists, and instead of step-pin’ up to da plate you turnin’ ya back on that innocent baby.”

“Sweetie, that baby can go into foster care. I’m sure some family will adopt it, and hopefully do right by it. But, this bitch ain’t da one.”

“Let’s see. Abandonment, neglect, self-centeredness…hmmmm, once again, here you go soundin’ more ’n more like ya moms.”

Hearin’ this shit for the second time from ’er makes my skin crawl. And she shuts me the hell up wit’ that. The only comeback I can think to say is, “Like I said, I gotta life.”

She laughs. “A life doin’ what?”

“Doin’ me.”

She shakes her head, tightly rollin’ another blunt. She seals it. “Oh, puhleeze.” She sparks up, then takes it to the dome.

I stop slicin’ tomatoes. “And what is that ’posed to mean?”

She gets up and walks ova to me wit’ the blunt danglin’ from ’er dick suckas. She takes another pull, then hands it to me. “Bitch, it means, yeah you gotta life, but ya ass ain’t really livin’ it. You fuckin’ existin’, that’s it.”

I stare at ’er. Raise a brow. “Oh, so I guess you’re livin’ life, but a bitch like me is only existin’, right? Bitch, puhleeze.”

“I neva said I was livin’ shit. I know I could do betta, but I’m good. The difference between me and you is I’m not goin’ through life pissed off at da world.”

I take two pulls from the blunt, then pass it back to ’er. I go back to finishin’ up the salad. “Sweetie, I ain’t pissed at da world. I’m pissed at bitches who keep tryin’ it on my time; simple as that.”

“Yeah, okay, boo. If you say so.”

“Think what you like, but I ain’t takin’ on another bitch’s problem. As far as I’m concerned my good deed is lettin’ da lil’ thing live, not raisin’ it.”

“Ohmiiiifuckin’gawd, I done heard it all. See, that’s ya fuckin’ problem. You so busy lovin’ ya’self that you don’t know how to love anyone else.”

“Bitch, get real. I love ya ho-ass.”

“I know you love me. And I love you, too. But I ain’t talkin’ ’bout me. I’m talkin’ ’bout you bein’ so damn closed to lettin’ anyone else in ya space. Bitch, I love you like a sista, but I swear ya ass is too damn selfish.”

Is this slut serious? “Ho, since when you become da expert on love? Love don’t come easy, and it ain’t guaranteed. So, a bitch like me ain’t givin’ any out unless it’s earned and deserved.”

She goes back to ’er seat. “Kat, it ain’t always ’bout you. That baby needs you. And if you ask me, I think you need it, too.”

I roll my eyes. “Girl, you sound fuckin’ crazy.”

“And, bitch, you crazier than I am.”

I laugh, dismissin’ e’erything she’s said. “You know what, ho, pass me da damn blunt. And instead of playin’ Oprah, make ya’self useful and take the lasagna outta da damn oven. Trick-bitch tryna lecture me. Not!”

“Fuck you, slut-bucket.” We go back ’n forth callin’ each otha a buncha names, laughin’ ’til it’s time to get our grub on.

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, WE’RE SITTIN’ AT THE TABLE EATIN’ ’N tossin’ back Jose Cuervo mix margaritas. Our convo has changed up and I’m glad ’cause I really didn’t wanna have’ta go off on my girl ’bout shit she’ll neva understand. “Mmm, this shit is bangin’, Boo. I had no idea you could throw down in the kitchen.” She licks ’er fingas, takin’ a sip of ’er drink.

“Well, Sweetie, a butta bitch like me can do more than be fly ’n fabulous.”

“Hmmmph, so I see, boo. So I muthafuckin’ see. Annnnyways, what’s good wit’ you and Allstar?”

“Shit. But interestin’ly da nigga took me to meet his moms.”

Her mouth drops open. “Say what?”

“You heard me. It fucked a bitch up, too.”

She smiles. “That nigga must really dig you. You know ain’t no nigga takin’ a ho he ain’t really diggin’ home to meet his moms; period.” I agree. “So how was she?”

“On some real shit, she was mad cool. She checks da nigga left ’n right, and was puttin’ ’im out on front street da whole time, draggin’ ’im for filth.” I start laughin’. “Ohmigod, girlfriend was airin’ his drawers all da way out.”

“What was she sayin’?”

Ohhhhkay…this is my girl and all. But, on some real shit, a bitch ain’t really up for tellin’ ’er too much ’bout this nigga. So I tell ’er just enough to let ’er know the nigga has real doggish ways.

She wets ’er throat, tossin’ back the rest of ’er drink, then refills ’er glass. “I guess you were shocked when she told you all that.”

“Kinda. I mean, not by what she was sayin’ ’cause I already knew da nigga had a buncha whores on his squad.” She sparks an after dinner blunt, takes a pull, then hands it to me. “I wasn’t expectin’ ’er to put ’im on blast in front of me. And da funny thing is, he didn’t try ’n stop ’er. It was like da nigga wanted ’er to spill his dirt.”

“Yeah, that nigga’s diggin’ you, Kat.”

I shrug. “Maybe.”

She rolls ’er eyes up in ’er head. “Bitch, whaddaya mean, maybe? You already know what it is.”

I put the blunt to my lips, thinkin’ back on my convo with his moms while I was in the kitchen helpin’ her wit’ the dishes. Yes, believe it or not, a bitch rolled up ’er sleeves and helped his moms out. For me, that was a first. But it gave me a chance to get to know ’er some.

“Let me tell you something ’bout my son,” she said, eyein’ me. “Alex is my only child. And I know him like I know the back of my hand. That man has never brought any woman to my home to meet me. And believe me, he has been through multiple women. Even when he was a teenager, sneaking them fast-assed girls into my house, he wasn’t tryna have me meet ’em.

“But, for some reason, he wanted me to meet you. Now I don’t know what it is about you, but whatever it is, it has my son open. And, between you and me, I have been prayin’ every day that he’d meet someone he can settle down with. I don’t know enough about you to say if I think you’re the one. But I know enough to know that my son thinks you’re the one good enough for me to meet. So, that says a lot.” She paused, then added, “You seem like you