Kitty-Kitty, Bang-Bang

bitch really start lookin’ at shit sideways. A lot’a times I wasn’t sayin’ shit, but I was constantly thinkin’ it. A bitch gotta do better, not just for me, but for him. The first time I held ’im in my arms, he got up in a bitch’s heart, and I knew. I knew that that lil’ sexy muhfucka was gonna have me wrapped ’round his lil’ fingas.

“Girrrrrl, I know you are glad this shit is finally ova. How you feel?” I don’t have the words to describe what or how I’m feelin’. Most of what I’m feelin’ is new to me. And it’s startin’ to feel overwhelmin’. I take a deep breath, shakin’ my head. I stop walkin’, cuppin’ my face wit’ my hands. I’m all choked up. The minute Chanel hugs me, I start sobbin’. A bitch is scared and excited and nervous. But, most importantly, I am ready—ready for change, ready for the new experience, ready to love. “Hooker,” she says, huggin’ me tighter, “you ain’t gotta say a word. I already know. C’mon, let’s get to da hospital to get ya…uh, our, baby.”

I pull myself together wipin’ my face and blowin’ my nose, then walk arm in arm with Chanel to the car. As soon as we get in and drive off toward the hospital, I look ova at Chanel and say, “Bitch, I need’a blunt. What you got good?”

She starts laughin’, pullin’ out ’er stash bag. “Ho, I’m already on it.” She sparks it up, takes two pulls, then passes it to me. “Whew, this some good shit, right here,” she says, holdin’ ’er chest. She slowly blows out the smoke. “This da kinda shit that make a bitch wanna fuck’a horse.”

“Chanel, ya ass is so damn stooopid.”

“No, fa real. Have you seen how big they dicks are? Whew! Divine and I was watchin’ porn da otha night —”

I start coughin’ and chokin’. “Bitch, say it ain’t so. Tell me ya ho ass ain’t tryna get it in wit’ animals, too.”

“Ewww, no, bitch,” she says, laughin’. “I was gettin’ ready to tell you, before I was rudely interrupted, that there was this nigga in the movie wit’ a dick like a horse’s. It was ridiculous. And da bitch he was fuckin’ was takin’ that shit like a real champion.”

I tilt my head. “Bitch, pass me da blunt. What da fuck that got ta do wit’ ya freak-ass wantin’ ta fuck a horse?”

She busts out laughin’. “I ain’t tryna fuck no horse. It was a figure of speech.”

I grunt, handin’ the blunt back to ’er. “Yeah right. That’s not what you said.”

“Whateva,” she huffs, takin’ a pull. I let the shit go ’cause I don’t care who she wants to fuck. I decide to tell ’er that after today I’m givin’ up blazin’. Well, uh, I’ma try. Shit, today’s my first day sparkin’ in almost two months. I know I can do it. She looks at me, noddin’ like she understands why. “Girl, you gotta do what you gotta do. You know I’m good wit’ it. We still pourin’ though, right?” I tell ’er not as much. Tell ’er that I need to keep my mind right if I wanna do shit right. She smiles. “Whew, no smokin’, no drinkin’ and no fuckin’? Hooker, you gonna be one cranky bitch.”

I laugh. “Ho, who said anything ’bout no fuckin’?”

“Well, now that you ain’t fuckin’ wit’ Allstar anymore, there goes ya steady supply’a dick.”

My cell rings. I pull it outta my bag, lookin’ at the screen. It’s Tone. He’s been hittin’ me up on a regular, and I been kinda diggin’ his convo. Soon as I get back to Cali, I might have’ta ride down on this nigga’s cock. I grin, pressin’ ignore. “Not necessarily, boo; not necessarily.”

Chanel hurriedly zooms in and outta traffic so we can get to the hospital to get Zaire, then head to Jersey to hit up Short Hills mall to buy up all the hot shit for lil’ boys.

A WHOLE MONTH FLIES BY WIT’ ME STILL TRYNA FIND MY RHYTHM wit’ havin’ a baby in my life. The shit ain’t easy. This lil’ muhfucka wanna sleep all day and be up all night, playin’. But, he’s so damn cute. So, of course all I do is hold his ass. And he just coos, and drools, and smiles at me. But a bitch is exhausted!

“Oh nooo, Mister Man. Wake ya lil’ ass up,” I say, unsnappin’ the legs of his sleeper, then changin’ his Pamper. He fusses, but I don’t give’a fuck. I slip the clean pamper underneath ’im, then unfasten the tabs on his Pamper. I make sure to cover his ding-a-ling so he doesn’t piss on me. I had’a learn the hard way when he pissed in my damn face. Oooh, I wanted to slap his face. But, then he smiled at me, and I got all mushy. Damn ’im! “We gotta get bathed,” I tell ’im as if he can understand what the hell I’m sayin’, “then get you ova to the studio so we can flick it up today.” We’re takin’ his first set of pictures today at noon, so he gotta represent. He already has some’a the illest shit out.

The doorbell rings. I glance at the Spiderman clock on Zaire’s wall, frownin’. It’s 8:24 a.m. “Who da hell is at the door this time’a mornin’, huh, lil’ man?” I ask, scoopin’ ’im up in my arms, then walkin’ into my room to throw on a robe before goin’ downstairs to see who’s at the door. “We got unannounced company, and you know that shit don’t fly, ain’t that right, lil’ man?” He coos as I look through the peephole, shocked. What da fuck this bitch want? It’s Patrice. This ho has neva dared to come up to my doorstep. I didn’t even know the ho knew where I lived. Keep it cute, bitch. Don’t get nasty wit’ this chick. I swing open the door.

“Can I help you?”

She stares at the baby, then looks at me. “I was hopin’ we could talk. Can I come in, please? ” She’s carryin’ gift bags stuffed wit’ items in both hands.

Zaire grabs at my ear, tryna pull on the diamond stud in my ear. I grab his lil’ hand. “No, no,” I say to ’im, steppin’ back to let ’er in. “You have ten minutes.”

“Thanks.” She walks in, and I shut the door behind ’er. I tell ’er to have a seat. Although I ain’t pressed ’bout her tryna get greasy wit’ it up in here, I silently hope Zaire doesn’t have’ta see me swing ’er through a wall. “Here,” she says, handin’ me the bags, “these are for da baby.”

Bitch, I don’t want ya shit. Baby boy wants for nuthin’, ho. I take ’em from ’er. “Thanks. And his name is Zaire.”

“I like that.” She looks ’round my place, takin’ a seat. I can tell the bitch’s uncomfortable. Shit, I am, too. It’s awkward as fuck. “Ya spot is beautiful.”

I sit down on the otha side of ’er give. “Sweetie, I know you ain’t come here for no social call, so let’s not pussy-foot ’round. Get down to da real reason you here.”

“I came to see my nephew,” she says, starin’ at ’im. “And to bring ’im his gifts. They’re from his grandmotha, me and Elise.”

I blink, blink again. In my head I hear myself sayin’, “Bitch, puhleeze. Take ya gifts and ram up in ya slutty- stank pussy.” I remind myself that I have a baby in my arms. Remind myself that I said I am tryna change. I swallow back a buncha curse words. “You coulda called, first.” She tells me she’s been callin’ me for the last four weeks, that she’s left a buncha messages, and I haven’t called ’er back. I shrug. “I didn’t wanna talk.”

Zaire starts gettin’ antsy. I bounce ’im up and down on my knee to calm ’im. She starts talkin’ baby talk to ’im and he grins and coos at ’er. “Can I hold ’im?”

Bitch, no da fuck you can’t! I hear Chanel’s voice in my head. Ho, it ain’t always ’bout ya selfish ass. I take a deep breath, tell ’er to go wash ’er hands, then reluctantly give ’im to ’er when she returns. She kisses him on his lil’ forehead, then holds ’im up against ’er chest. She starts gettin’ all emotional ’n shit. “Ohmigod, he’s so precious. Kat, we gotta try ’n get ova this shit between us.” I tell ’er not to curse in front of Zaire. She apologizes. “I wanna be in my nephew’s life. And I’d like to be in yours again.”

“That’ll neva happen,” I say, sittin’ back in my seat.

She forces a smile. “We used to be like sistas.”

“Yeah, ’til you dropped ya drawers and fu…screwed my man.”

“That was a big mistake,” she says, wipin’ tears. She has Zaire facin’ ’er sittin’ on ’er knees, doin’ more baby talk. He starts fussin’ ’n fidgetin’. Bitch, he don’t wanna hear that shit. She tries to walkin’ ’round the room, bouncin’ ’im. That doesn’t work eitha.

“He’s hungry,” I say, gettin’ up and takin’ ’im from ’er. I tell ’er to follow me into the kitchen so I can warm his bottle. “So why’d you do it?” It’s a question I neva asked ’er before. It’s a question I neva really wanted the answer to. I just cut ’er off and fought ’er e’ery chance I got ’cause I was hurt. She looks at me confused. I grab a burpin’ pad, then hand it to ’er along wit’ Zaire so she can feed ’im. She’s surprised. And so am I. I repeat the question. “Why’d you have’ta sleep wit’ B-Love?”

“Keepin’ shi…ish real, I was jealous of you. And I was mad that he picked you ova me.”

“Jealous? For what?”