Carl Weber - Baby Momma Drama

Mr. Green handed me my cell phone, which they had taken when I was arrested. Now I knew why they hadn’t given it back to me with my other things when I was released. I figured some crooked guard had stolen it.

“Since your arrest, your phone’s been ringing quite a bit. We figure he’s been looking for you. Do you know any of these numbers?” He handed me a piece of paper.

“The top one’s his cell phone and the second one’s his mom’s number. I don’t know who the third number belongs to, although it does look familiar.”

“Do you know a Wendy Wood?”

That sleazy motherfucker. I should’ve known when I kicked his ass out that he’d end up back over there with that ho. And now he had the nerve to be calling me from her place.

“Yeah, that’s his baby’s momma.” I answered. “When we broke up, I kicked him out my place. He probably went to stay with her.”

“Well, we’d like you to call him back and set up a meeting.”

That made me nervous. Not only did I not want to be involved in this sting, I didn’t want to see Derrick face-to-face. I was still so pissed at him for that video, there was no telling what I would say when I saw him. But from the glance my lawyer gave me and the determined look on Mr. Green’s face, I knew I had no choice. Not if I didn’t wanna be the one behind bars. I had to get over my fears and do what they were asking.

“What should I say to him?”

“Call him on his cell. Tell him you want to see him, to talk about your fight. Tell him you’ll meet him in a Starbucks in the West End.”

“Alone?” I didn’t like the way this was sounding.

“Well, he’ll think you’re alone, but we’ll have undercover people stationed throughout the shop.”

“And what am I supposed to say to him once we’re there?”

“Ask him for your keys back. Tell him you hate him. It doesn’t really matter. The important thing is that he knows where you parked your car, and that you don’t leave with him.”

“Why does he have to know about the car?”

“We assume he’ll go looking for the drugs after your meeting, so park it in an obvious place. Once he’s been spotted with the drugs, we’ll arrange an arrest away from the coffee shop.”

This whole thing made me nervous. I was feeling sick to my stomach. What if Derrick got there and I chickened out? He had a way of talking me out of some of our biggest fights, and no doubt he’d be trying to do it this time. It was not gonna be easy, getting him to leave without me after I told him to fuck off. He would put up a good fight, for sure. I prayed I’d develop some real courage to deal with him, before I had to face him. I turned on my cell phone reluctantly and dialed Wendy’s number with trembling fingers.

I was sitting in the back of Starbucks, drinking my third cappuccino. It was decaf. My nerves were already a wreck, so I didn’t need any of that high-potency Starbucks coffee to make things worse.

There was a couple next to me holding hands, poring over the real estate section of the newspaper. They looked so totally in love, searching for a home. Actually, they were there for my benefit. They were undercover officers, ready to pounce on Derrick if things got out of hand. I was just praying that wouldn’t be necessary. I wanted to avoid it at all costs, actually, ’cause I was still terrified that Derrick’s boys would kill me if they knew I was doing this to him. A car with two more undercover officers sat outside in case they were called in as backup. My lawyer was in the car with them, and he’d promised me he’d be in there with me as soon as Derrick was gone.

Derrick was supposed to be there at 3:00, and it was now twenty-five after. I wondered if he was making me wait as a punishment for kicking his ass out the other night When I talked to him on the phone, I played it as cool as I could. I didn’t beg him to come meet me, but I also didn’t give him shit. I just told him we had a lot of things to talk about, and we should get together in a neutral place to decide how we were gonna handle our “little issues.” He was so damn cocky.

When Derrick finally walked in at 3:30, I put my drink down.

“What’s up?” he asked. “You been here long?”

My mouth was dry, and my mind was a complete blank all of a sudden.

“I hate you,” were the only words I could get out.

I wanted to slap him right about then, but I pulled myself back together and did my little act for the benefit of all the officers who were eavesdropping. Actually, there was no acting necessary here. Tears formed in my eyes as I remembered the images I saw on that video.

“I know, Jasmine. I never meant for you to see that tape.”

“You never meant for me to see it? How ’bout you never meant to do what you did with my best friend? That shit should’ve never happened.”

“C’mon, baby.” He tried to win me over with one of his puppy-dog looks. “You know I never wanted to hurt you. I made a little mistake, that’s all. Can’t we just forgive and forget?” He reached out for my hand. I pulled it away.

“Hell, no. I ain’t forgiving and I damn sure ain’t forgetting. I just wanted to know why. Why would you do this to me after everything I’ve done for you? Why would you fuck Sabrina?”

“Look, Jazz, I’m sorry about what happened with your friend, but it’s partly your fault.”

“My fault?” I shouted. The cops at the next table shifted in their seats to remind me where I was and what I was supposed to be doing.

“Yeah, your fault.” His dimples retreated into a hard frown. “Everything woulda been cool if you would’ve been a little more open in the bedroom. And you shouldn’t talk so much to your damn friend.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you should have never told Sabrina how big my johnson is. That woman was coming over every day, talking about she just wanted to see if you were lying. Finally, I just showed it to her.” My stomach lurched when I heard that. Shit, I knew Sabrina was a ho, but I thought our friendship was sacred ground.

“Oh, so when she saw it you just fucked her right then and there, huh?”

“No. I fucked her after she told me you said I was too rough. She said she liked it rough. After that, it was a wrap.” He got up from his chair. “Like I said before: you talk too much, Jazz. Don’t you know you never tell your friends what you’re working with in bed?”

I shuddered. There was some truth to what he was saying, but it hurt to realize it.

“Now, are you gonna let me come back home, or what? ’Cause I got shit to do. I ain’t got time to be baby-sitting you and your little tantrum.”

I thought I was so in love with this man, but it was so clear now that he’d never really cared about me. Sure, he bought me lots of things. And at one time I guess I confused that with loving me. But Derrick was never concerned about my heart. He kept me on a leash, and I was willing to do anything for him. He let his baby’s momma disrespect me more times than I wanted to count. And I was a fool. I stayed by his side, gave up my own life to wait for his ass for three years. Now here I was, scared as shit, trying to keep my own self out of jail. Well, those days were over. I was ready to live my life on my own terms. I was ready to say good-bye to Derrick. And I was doing it for me, not for any cop, not for the lawyers. Just for me.

“No. I’m not gonna let you come back home.”

It felt so good to tell him that. And I couldn’t believe his response. He didn’t fight at all. He reached into his pocket, pulled out my keys, and slid them across the table to me.

“Your loss,” was all he said as he left.

I sat alone at that table for five of the longest minutes of my life. I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there, but I had to get the word from the cops. Even the undercover couple next to me were still playing their part, pretending they didn’t know I existed. Finally, my lawyer came through the front door, and he was smiling. I felt like I could breathe at last.