“Yo, Dylan, you want me to make that call to the fellas, or what?” Joe asked again.
“Nah,” I exhaled. “Leave him alone.”
“Now that’s a first.” Joe looked skeptical. “You’re gonna let someone get away with jumpin’ you without putting up a fight?”
“Only because he didn’t do anything I wouldn’t have done.”
“What are you talking about? The guy kicked your ass for no reason.”
“Oh, he had a reason…” I began to explain the situation to Joe, and when I was done, not only did he understand, he agreed we should leave Derrick alone.
“Damn, I thought Jasmine was smarter than this. All she had to do was call and tell you he was home.”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“You know, you’re a bigger man than I thought you were, Dylan. I woulda bet money that you’d be up all night plotting and scheming like you did with Jordan.” Joe sat back in his chair and finished the last of his coffee.
“No, Jordan was different. He knew Monica was my woman. Jasmine, it seems, was never mine. I was just borrowing her until Derrick came home.” I took a sip of the coffee that Joe had ordered for me. “Besides, I had other things on my mind last night. Some very pleasurable things, I might add.” Joe studied my face, then broke out in a big grin.
“You tryin’ to tell me, after all this shit, you got some ass last night?” He laughed.
“Yeah” I couldn’t contain my pride.
“How the hell’d you do that with all those bruises?” Joe stared at me in amazement.
“Oh, very gingerly,” I grinned. “Very gingerly. She did all the work.”
Joe laughed. “You are crazy.”
“You’ll never believe who it was.”
Joe stared at me like he was tryin’ to read my mind. Then, all of a sudden his eyes got big.
“Oh, shit. I know who it is. You dirty dog. You got with Jasmine’s friend Sabrina, didn’t you? Didn’t you? Damn, I know she got some good-ass booty. Fine as she is.” Joe stuck out his hand, but I left him hanging.
“Nah, man. I ain’t mess with Sabrina. I’m mad at Jasmine, but I ain’t that damn mad. Those two are like sisters.”
“Then who?” Joe leaned forward.
“Let’s put it this way: she’s having my baby.”
“What? Oh, shit. Not Monica. Please don’t tell me you’re fucking with Monica again.” Joe’s grin turned sour and he lowered his head. “Damn it, Dylan. What the hell were you thinking about?”
“What was I thinking about? You actin’ like I was fucking your sister. This is my ex-girlfriend we’re talking about, Joe. I went with her for six years. Don’t act like you never thought there was a chance we might get back together. Especially since she’s having my baby.”
“No, I didn’t. I thought you were stronger than that. And how the hell do you know that’s your baby, anyway? Did you have a blood test? No!” He was really mad. “Don’t be tellin’ nobody that’s your baby, Dylan. You hear me?”
“Why not?”
Joe hesitated. I knew that look on his face. He wanted to tell me something, but he was afraid I might not like what he had to say. We’d had our wars over the years when it came to Monica. And I knew he didn’t especially like her, but true friends never let a woman come between them. So right now I wasn’t worried about him hurting my feelings. I needed to know if he had some information.
“Why, Joe? Why don’t you want me to claim the baby?”
He inhaled deeply before he spoke. “’Cause Monica’s a crackhead, that’s why. There’s no telling whose baby that is.”
“A crackhead? Monica ain’t no crackhead.” I almost laughed at him as I leaned back in my seat. Usually, Joe’s information was good, but this was so far off base, he must’ve gotten his stories confused.
“Yeah, she is,” Joe insisted. “That’s the real reason Jordan kicked her out. Not that bullshit she told you about the baby not being his. It’s because she was smoking that shit. Man, that brother got three kids. He ain’t had no vasectomy.”
“Who told you that bullshit, Joe? Monica ain’t no damn crackhead. I’ve been hanging with her all week and she damn sure don’t act like no crackhead. Now, she’s an arrogant ass, I’ll give you that, and she can definitely be a bitch. But a crackhead? No, I think you have the wrong woman.”
Joe exhaled loudly. “How does a crackhead act, Dylan?”
“They steal money and appliances and shit. And they all skinny like that Robin chick they call ‘Creature Feature.’ Monica ain’t stolen nothing from me.”
“Look, all I’m tellin’ you is that my man George seen her coming out the spot on East Washington Street. If it’ll make you feel better, maybe she’s not a crackhead Maybe she’s just a casual user. But let’s get one thing straight, my friend. If she’s coming out the spot, she had to go in there for something. Unless she got a job as a cop or a social worker, she went in there to buy crack.”
I wanted to call him a liar. I wanted to tell him he didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about. But in our seven years of friendship, Joe’s information had almost always been on the mark. And he did look pretty damn determined to convince me this time. Not only that, but an image of Monica snorting coke in Jordan’s living room invaded my memory. I didn’t wanna tell Joe, but it was possible that she had graduated from snorting coke to smoking crack. I hated to even entertain the idea, but I had to at least talk to her about it. Especially since she was moving her shit into my place as we spoke.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“I just found out yesterday. You weren’t with her. You were chasing behind Jasmine, so I didn’t think it was urgent. I was gonna tell you this morning until you came in lookin’ so fucked up.”
“I’m not gonna front with you, Joe. I don’t think she’s using crack. But I’m gonna go talk to her about it. ’Cause if on the off chance you’re right, that shit could be affecting my baby’s health. And I do mean my baby.”
“Ah’ight. I can respect that,” Joe told me quietly. “I just hope you know I wouldn’t tell you this shit if I didn’t love you.”
“I know that.” I stuck my hand out and he grasped it. “I gotta go take care of this. I can’t paint Mom’s house today. Tell her I’m sorry, but somethin’ personal came up.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of Ma. You go handle your business.”
“Thanks, Joe. Breakfast is on me.” I reached in my pocket and pulled out my wallet. My heart sank when I realized there was no money in it. Well, at least not as much as I thought.
“What’s wrong?”
“I had eighty-five dollars in my wallet last night. Now I only have five, but I ain’t spent no money.” Joe and I stared at each other. I’m sure he was having the same thoughts as I was.
“Man,” he said, “now you really got to go home and handle your business.”
It seemed like it took forever to get home from Shoney’s. Then again, that might have had something to do with the fact that I took the long way home, trying to get my head together for the confrontation I was gonna have with Monica. I kept repeating Joe’s accusations in my mind. I really didn’t warn to believe Monica was doing drugs, but the evidence was staring me right in the face when I opened my wallet. As I drove home, I wracked my brain. Maybe I was so delirious after the fight with Derrick that I spent the money and just didn’t remember it. I was hoping Monica would have some type of logical explanation for being seen near a crack house.
When I finally walked in the front door, I was met by the sound of R. Kelly’s music blaring upstairs. I don’t know what it was about that dude, but Monica loved her some R. Kelly. Even after he was accused of child molestation. She played his songs all the time and supported him by buying the CD he did with Jay-Z.
When I reached the top of the stairs, I took a deep breath before I walked into the bedroom. I knew I was gonna have to be real smooth when I approached Monica about this crack issue. She wasn’t stupid at all, and even if she was using crack, the chances of her admitting it to me were slim to none. I figured the best way for me to approach the matter was to pretend I had been tempted to try crack myself. They say no true crackhead wants to smoke alone. When I stepped into the room, I realized that approach was’t gonna be necessary at all.