“Hey Rah. Who is this stunning princess?” I open the door, placing my purse on the floor before getting in and turning around in my seat to face this little girl I’ve been hearing so much about. I quickly close my door to keep the cold evening air from entering the warm vehicle.

  “Rahima, this is my girl, Jayd. Jayd, this is my baby girl, Rahima.”

  Rahima looks at me curiously, taking in all of my facial features. I smile at her, doing the same thing myself. She mirrors my delight and I know I’ve won her over. And vice versa.

  “I don’t know about being your daddy’s girl, but it’s nice to finally meet you,” I say, reaching into the backseat to shake her chubby hand. Her tiny fingers grasp mine tightly as she smiles and tries to taste them. Rahima’s finally real to me. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

  “If she could, she’d say the same thing about you. Isn’t that right, baby girl?” Rahima gives her daddy a big smile. They look just alike, beautiful smiles, dimples in their chocolate cheeks and all. The only thing she got from her mama is the lightening of her cocoa complexion. Even Rahima’s eyes belong to Rah.

  “I hope it’s all good stuff your daddy shared with you.” I turn around and sit properly in my seat. Pulling my seatbelt across my lap, I look up at Rah, who’s staring at me intently. Without saying a word, Rah pulls off toward the freeway, heading back to his house. I had a great day at work and am looking forward to a cool evening with Rah and Rahima.

  “I rented some movies. I’d thought we could kick it at my house, order a pizza and just chill. Sound good?”

  I lean back in my seat, reach behind to tickle Rahima’s thick legs, and nod in approval of tonight’s game plan. I couldn’t have planned a more perfect night myself. To think Rah and I stopped talking when I found out he was hiding Rahima from me. Now, here we all are. Life’s a trip and then some.

  After spending all evening with Rahima and Rah, I am in love with the little girl. Rah couldn’t deny her if he wanted to. She’s the spitting image of her daddy, only a few shades lighter. Now I see why he never needed a paternity test to prove his fatherhood until Rah decided to go after full custody. Now here we are Christmas shopping with our best friends like the couple we used to be. We decided it would be a good way for me to make peace with Mickey, although I was reluctant at first. I’d rather just spend the day with Rahima and Rah, but making up with Mickey’s important too.

  From Rahima’s calm and cheerful demeanor, I’d pay to get a maternity test if there were such a thing. Sandy’s crazy ass doesn’t fit anywhere in their picture-perfect family. At least Sandy let Rah pick out the name. Rahima’s and Rah’s names even mean the same thing: compassionate and merciful. It was also a way of permanently linking him to the baby, which was for Sandy’s benefit more than a sweet thing to do. Sandy never does anything without thinking of herself first, kind of like how Mickey rolls.

  Mickey and I haven’t made up completely, but her checking her man for harassing me is a step in the right direction. But she still has a lot more ground to cover before we’re completely cool again, starting with my signature on her letter. Mickey and Nigel need to take the heat off of me and the rest of their friends for their mistakes.

  “Jayd, you’re not going to lose your part in the stupid play,” Mickey says, looking at the Hot Dog on a Stick menu. Rah, Nigel and Rahima are seated at a nearby table. “To let Chance, Matt, and Seth tell it, you’re the best thing since sliced bread.” Mickey orders for all of us, knowing what we each want. But there’s a new addition she failed to include.

  “And a cheese on a stick, fries and a small strawberry lemonade please.” I pull out the twenty Rah gave me to pay with and hand it over to Mickey.

  “Damn, Jayd. Are you sure I’m the only one eating for two around here?” Mickey says, rubbing my belly. I am slightly bloated because I’m on my cycle, but my little pot belly is nothing compared to Mickey’s bulge. If she wanted to, she would make a cute but pregnant Mrs. Claus, unlike the other imitators around the mall today.

  Santa’s helpers, elves, reindeer and the man himself are out in full force this afternoon. The mall’s crowded and loud, with Christmas carolers singing loudly in every department store. My favorite holiday theme is in Macy’s. They have a very modern Santa’s Village look, with gold and white as their main colors. The ten-foot tree is covered with gold ornaments and the most stunning black angel was at the very top instead of the traditional star. The angel was so pretty I had to buy it for Mama.

  “No, fool. You forgot to order for Rahima,” I say, looking over my shoulder to see Rah walking his daughter around the table with his hands without getting up himself. He’s such a good daddy. Too bad he’s had bad taste in girls in the past.

  “But you didn’t, did you, Mama Jayd?” Mickey takes the receipt and change, handing it all over to me. The guys always take turns paying when we go to the mall and because Rah’s with me, I’m in charge of the money.

  “Don’t call me that. I’m not her mother.”

  “No, but you know that’s what she’s going to be calling you soon enough. Mama Jayd, pick me up! Mama Jayd, can I have some candy?” Mickey says, mimicking a bratty child, probably much like the one she’s going to give birth to.

  “Whatever, Mickey. All I know is that if I lose my part, you have to name your baby after me, I don’t care if it’s a boy either,” I say, pushing Mickey in the arm. The Westside Pavilion is definitely a mall for the well-to-do. I rarely get to come this far west into the city and am glad for the chance. Mickey, on the other hand, has complained the entire day because this mall doesn’t have the same stores that are in the Fox Hills Mall. But the food court has her favorite mall foods, so she’s content for now.

  I’m too caught up in Christmas shopping for Rahima to care about much else. I went a little crazy walking through Macy’s when Rah and Nigel took her with them to look at the latest video games. I was supposed to be going to the bathroom and ended up purchasing some cute dresses for Rahima that were on sale. I didn’t know her size exactly, so I got them in a three-toddler. That way she can grow into them if they’re way too big.

  Nigel walks over to help me carry the trays of food back to our table. With him around, Mickey doesn’t have to lift a hand. It must be nice to have a man who worships you like Nigel does Mickey. I know his ex-girl Tasha’s hating on Mickey big time. She lost out, for real. If I know girls, Rah’s ex Trish is providing her girl with all of the details of Nigel and Mickey’s love affair like a true best friend.

  When we all sit down, ready to grub, Rahima’s the first one to dig in. She takes the fries in her hands and stuffs them in her mouth.

  “Easy, mommy,” I say, reaching across the table to where Rahima’s seated in her daddy’s lap, taking a few of the potatoes away from her and putting them down on the napkin in front of her. Nigel and Mickey look at me and then at each other, smiling at the Kodak moment.

  “So what’s in the bags?” Rah asks, eyeing the Macy’s bags on the floor next to my chair.

  “Just a few gifts.” It didn’t take much for me to spend all of my tips. But I still have the money I made from doing hair last night, and my regular pay from Netta. “What size clothes does she wear?”

  Rah looks down at Rahima like he can tell by eyeing her. Last night I got to know all about her: what her favorite food is, how she likes her blanket, and her ticklish spots. I changed her diaper more often than her daddy, but didn’t think to check out her size. “Here, let me,” I say, rising from my seat after taking another bite of my corndog and reaching over the table to gently check the tag on the back of her dress. She smiles big and initiates a peek-a-boo game, which I can’t resist.

  “Okay, you two. We have some serious eating to do and we’re running out of time.” Rah opens his arms, letting her lie across his hands and face me completely. She’s the cutest little girl I’ve ever seen.

  “She started it,” I say, giggling with Rahima while her daddy fights off cracking a big smile. I know he’s too happy to have his baby girl back in his life, and after paying a fertility clinic five hundred dollars yesterday, he can now prove to the courts that she belongs with him.

  “Don’t the three of y’all make a happy little family?” Mickey says, slurping the last of her lemonade down while Nigel eyes all of her shopping bags. She didn’t find exactly what she wanted, but it looks like she got off to a good start. “Where’s a camera when you need one?”

  “On my cell,” Nigel says, snapping a shot of us before we can protest. “I’ll send it to y’all.”

  Rah looks down at me and then at his daughter. I know what he’s thinking: Sandy will never let us happen. But Sandy’s not the only one with the ability to get her hustle on to get what she wants out of life. I was doubtful about Rah’s ability to take care of Kamal and Rahima. But after seeing them together, I’m convinced now that being with her daddy is the best thing for Rahima.

  “Okay, it’s already one-thirty. We’d better get going if we’re going to be back in Compton before five.” Rah has to meet Sandy at his grandparents’ house at five-thirty. I know he doesn’t want to give her back, but he doesn’t have much choice. She’s already called three times to see where he is. Rah didn’t tell Sandy I was with them, but I’m sure she figured it out and isn’t too pleased about it.

  “Alright, man. But you need to stop by my house for a minute and get that new microphone for the sound booth if you’re going to hook it up tonight,” Nigel says. They’re replacing some of the old studio equipment to make their demo sound even tighter. With Rah as the producer and Nigel rhyming, they make a good team. They both have their hustle and their flow in order. Unlike some other brothas I know, Nigel and Rah grow in their game, perfecting it as they move along. And that’s what separates them from the rest of the crowd, which also makes them attractive to many people, including groupies.

  “Alright man. We’ll catch you at the crib.” Mickey rubs her round belly, holding Nigel’s arm securely.

  We all clean up our table and head toward the escalators. We parked in different lots and will separate here. Mickey winks at me as I hold on to Rah while he’s carrying his baby. Maybe Mickey’s onto something with this teen romance thing.

  I know it’s not as easy as it looks, but maybe this family thing isn’t so bad, after all. Mickey’s parents have been together since high school, with many babies along the way. Maybe Rahima will bring me and Rah closer together; who knows what the future holds? At the moment, I have to give her back just like Rah does, and we both want to postpone that for as long as we possibly can.

  The holiday traffic and after-church crowd make the Sunday cruise more like a crawl as we creep down Crenshaw back to Nigel’s side of town. Sandy called again, wanting to know if he could bring Rahima back earlier because Sandy’s got plans all of a sudden. Rah offered to keep their daughter for another night rather than rush her back, but Sandy wasn’t having it and neither was Rah, who decided not to change his original plans.

  I need to make a stronger repellant for him to keep Sandy away. My other one has affected Trish somewhat, but she’s taking her time leaving Rah alone, too. But Sandy’s a special kind of trick, and it’s going to take a special kind of potion to get her off of Rah.

  When we finally make it to Nigel’s house, his parents aren’t home from church yet. After her big lunch, Rahima fell asleep in the car. Rah managed to take her out of her car seat and put her down on Nigel’s living room couch without waking her up. For a man with such big hands, Rah’s touch is as light as a feather when it comes to his daughter. Rah sits down next to her, covering her with her favorite blanket.

  “Jayd, tell them to be quiet before they wake up Rahima,” Rah says, whispering over his daughter.

  I stop at the entrance and turn around to face our friends outside. “Nigel, shhh,” I whisper, causing Nigel and Mickey to look at me crazy. I look back at Rah and then out the door. We all smile at the thought of us as parents. It’s a crazy picture, but nothing surprises me anymore.

  Nigel leaves the front door open while he unloads Mickey’s bags out of the car. She wants to look over her booty now instead of waiting until she gets home tonight. Probably because she doesn’t want to hear her daddy’s mouth. He could care less about the baby’s wardrobe. What Mickey’s father’s concerned with is her marital status and so is Mickey. Her parents are serious about Mickey not being a single mother. All they need is another mouth to feed in her full house. Eyeing the joint like it’s her property to scope, Mickey looks around the front yard, inspecting the five steps leading to the grand entrance, which is where I’m standing.

  “What’s down here?” Mickey asks, walking in and passing me by. She notices the door off to the right of the large living room. She must’ve seen it through the window from outside. The house has many rooms yet to be discovered. Mickey looks like she’s making plans to move in. I know she has to know better than that. She met Nigel’s parents and I know she can tell they aren’t raising any grandbabies up in here. If she doesn’t realize it, then she’s in for a rude awakening.

  “That’s the game room. The construction’s almost done. Want to see?” Nigel leads us down the six steps opening up to a large room with a massive pool table in the center. There’s an air hockey table to the right, arcade games lining the back walls, and another basketball hoop attached to the to the top of the back door. They love to ball around here, no matter what kind of balling it is. Mr. Esop makes it no secret that he prefers basketball over football because he used to play pro. But as long as Nigel stays in sports, Mr. Esop’s happy.

  “Can you still shoot pool, Jayd?” Rah asks, leaving a sleeping Rahima on the couch and joining us. My dad has a pool table in his garage, although it’s not fancy like this one. I rub my hands across the shiny red wood. It’s the smoothest cherry I’ve ever felt and is accompanied by equally stunning, brand new balls and cues. Nigel’s folks are still in the process of remodeling, but this room is pretty close to being finished.

  “A little,” I say, dummying down my skills. My daddy always taught me that a true hustler doesn’t let his or her opponent know their true talent until they’re ready to win. And we’ve had such a good day I don’t want to ruin it by squashing Rah and Nigel’s precious egos. However, I wouldn’t mind kicking Mickey’s ass in a game of pool. “Mickey, you play?”

  “Hell nah, girl. What I look like shooting pool with these nails?” Mickey holds up her acrylic claws, showing off her fresh airbrush for me to see. I hope she knows those things will have to be toned down to wipe her baby’s ass on the regular. My girl’s in for a shock when her baby finally pops out. No more three-inch nails with fancy hoops hanging out of them and shit like that. She may have to settle for home manicures like mine.

  “Now Mickey, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you was trying to hustle someone into thinking you’re inexperienced at this game,” Mr. Esop says, calling Mickey out without even knowing how true his words are. He enters through the back door of the spacious room, taking us all by surprise. His six-foot-nine frame fills up the room, immediately making my short self feel even smaller. His wife stops outside the back door, looking for something and leaving her husband to greet us first. “Hey kids.”

  “Hi, Mr. Esop,” we all chime in unison. Mickey looks uncomfortable, but continues to stand next to Nigel at the opposite end of the table.

  “Hey, Dad. How was church?” Nigel asks, picking up one of the two cue sticks lying on the felt table and passing it to Mickey, who’s pleased with the attention. From the smile on Mr. Esop’s face, he looks pleased with his son’s latest girl. Apparently he doesn’t know Mickey’s about to make him a grandfather. I’m guessing his smile will turn upside down when he does find out.

  “It was fine, but you’d know that if you’d come with us. You should come too, Mickey. Our church has one of the largest congregation in the entire county and we love getting visitors.” The Esops belong to one of those large Black churches that come on television Sunday nights begging for more money. I never understand why those churches need so much cheddar. The Esops’ church not only has a main sanctuary, but it also has a dome for their televised services, as well as an amphitheater for concerts, and other smaller buildings around the property, too. They’re founding members and never miss a Sunday service.

  “Thank you, Mr. Esop. I’ll consider it,” she says, shocking the hell out of us all, Nigel included. Mickey’s really trying to get in good with his family, even pretending to be interested in the Lord when we all know she’s more closely related to his nemesis—and most of the time, she’s proud of it. Mickey’s about as Christian as bin Laden. But if going to church means being in the family, Mickey will probably be singing in the choir before it’s all said and done.

  “You’ve got a good one here, son. You better hold on to her,” Mr. Esop says, picking up a cue of his own and shooting three solid balls into a corner pocket, just for the fun of it.

  “I plan on it, Dad.”

  Rah and I roll our eyes at each other, sick of the gushy love between our friends. I miss having Nellie and Chance around to add some comic relief to our crew. Although if she were here now, Nellie would be so jealous she wouldn’t be able to contain her hating for one second, which wouldn’t be funny at all. I feel Nellie’s beef with the way Nigel and Mickey are handling their baby business, but there’s no use in worrying about what I can’t control. Nellie needs to learn that lesson, and fast, or else she’s going to lose Mickey’s friendship permanently.

  “Yeah, son. It’s better to get a good girl and hold on to her now, before you get famous. The real hussies start to come out when they can smell money on you, ain’t that right, Rah?”

  Rah looks around the room, trying to pretend like he didn’t hear the question. He doesn’t want to give an answer he might regret once Nigel’s parents find out about the baby.

  But Mr. Esop doesn’t let him off so easy, continuing to shoot the remaining balls on the table and bait Rah into a response at the same time. “Cat got your tongue, son?”

 

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