Bridget interjected, “that’s pretty much what he said.”
Milan pushed Yusef in his chest.
“What’s the problem,” Yusef continued, “I should’ve called you a fat-ass bitch? I knew it. Okay, fat bitch.”
“You a bitch.” Milan paused. “A bitch-ass, sloppy, triflin’, sorry, wack-ass, lost-his-contract, non-ball-playin’, crackhead asshole of a bitch! You’re a useless-dick bitch!” She slapped his dick, which was now soft. “If I’ma bitch ya’ cockeyed, cane-walkin’, greasy-ass cookin’ mama is a bitch, bitch!”
“Greasy-ass cookin?!”
“And your goddamn ADHD kids and their mamas are bitches, bitch!”
“Oh, hold it.”
“I’m the one who put up with your sorry ass. I swear I shoulda listened to your son’s mother who told me you weren’t shit. She wasn’t fuckin’ crazy. She had good goddamn sense!”
“Now you listening to other motherfuckers about us, Milan? You know she hatin’ on me and you!” He pushed her into a corner.
“Ain’t nobody hatin’ on us!” she screamed. “That bitch knew you weren’t shit. It was me who didn’t know!” She pushed him in the chest again. “Get the fuck outta my way!” She shoved past him.
“So people can tell you anything about me, right?” He snatched her around by the arm. “That’s exactly why I just made you look like a fool on TV. You wanna pretend like you so much, but I just showed the world that you really ain’t shit.”
Instantly Milan stopped dead in her tracks and looked up in the camera. He was right. It was all hanging out now. A lump filled her throat and no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t swallow it. After a few seconds of realizing that Yusef had set out to make a fool of her and she had fallen for it, she grabbed her keys and headed out the door.
Jaise
J aise checked her online computer orders from her customers and then forwarded them to her warehouse manager. She thought about going to a few salvage yards and flea markets but quickly changed her mind and instead walked over to her fully stocked wet bar and popped open a bottle of Patrón, threw four shots back, and then chased them with chardonnay. She was tired of falling for men whose fucking her well equated to air.
Jaise wiped tears from her eyes as she pulled a Newport from the soft pack resting on the coffee table and lit it. She stared at the crackling flame and the rising smoke from the cigarette before she slipped the butt into her mouth and took a pull.
As tears continued to pour from her eyes, she wished that she could rewind time and take herself back to a place where she felt okay with being by herself. But after a few minutes she wasn’t so sure that such a time had ever existed.
She heard Jabril’s keys in the front door and quickly wiped away the tears. She held her wineglass in one hand and her cigarettein the other. As soon as her son walked in she felt like a lush. She was sure if she stood up she would fall.
“Jabril,” she said, glancing at the clock, “what did I tell you about coming in this house so late? You’re on punishment, or did you forget?”
He closed the door behind him and before he could respond Jaise yelled, “Don’t slam my goddamn door!”
“What’s wrong with you?” He frowned. “I just walked in the door and already you’re startin’.”
“You’re not obeying my rules.”
“Ma”—he pointed to the clock—“it’s five o’clock.”
“But you get out of school at three!” she screamed.
“What are you screaming for? I took a few minutes and kicked it with a li’l shortie. You buggin’!”
“Don’t tell me I’m buggin’. I’m tired of ungrateful-ass men, and you growing up to be one, just like your daddy and just like Trenton.”
“I’m not like neither one of them! And I don’t appreciate you saying that to me, because I didn’t do nothing to you. What you need to do is go base off at ole dude who treats you like garbage.”
Jaise felt the dam in her eyes
Milan pushed Yusef in his chest.
“What’s the problem,” Yusef continued, “I should’ve called you a fat-ass bitch? I knew it. Okay, fat bitch.”
“You a bitch.” Milan paused. “A bitch-ass, sloppy, triflin’, sorry, wack-ass, lost-his-contract, non-ball-playin’, crackhead asshole of a bitch! You’re a useless-dick bitch!” She slapped his dick, which was now soft. “If I’ma bitch ya’ cockeyed, cane-walkin’, greasy-ass cookin’ mama is a bitch, bitch!”
“Greasy-ass cookin?!”
“And your goddamn ADHD kids and their mamas are bitches, bitch!”
“Oh, hold it.”
“I’m the one who put up with your sorry ass. I swear I shoulda listened to your son’s mother who told me you weren’t shit. She wasn’t fuckin’ crazy. She had good goddamn sense!”
“Now you listening to other motherfuckers about us, Milan? You know she hatin’ on me and you!” He pushed her into a corner.
“Ain’t nobody hatin’ on us!” she screamed. “That bitch knew you weren’t shit. It was me who didn’t know!” She pushed him in the chest again. “Get the fuck outta my way!” She shoved past him.
“So people can tell you anything about me, right?” He snatched her around by the arm. “That’s exactly why I just made you look like a fool on TV. You wanna pretend like you so much, but I just showed the world that you really ain’t shit.”
Instantly Milan stopped dead in her tracks and looked up in the camera. He was right. It was all hanging out now. A lump filled her throat and no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t swallow it. After a few seconds of realizing that Yusef had set out to make a fool of her and she had fallen for it, she grabbed her keys and headed out the door.
Jaise
J aise checked her online computer orders from her customers and then forwarded them to her warehouse manager. She thought about going to a few salvage yards and flea markets but quickly changed her mind and instead walked over to her fully stocked wet bar and popped open a bottle of Patrón, threw four shots back, and then chased them with chardonnay. She was tired of falling for men whose fucking her well equated to air.
Jaise wiped tears from her eyes as she pulled a Newport from the soft pack resting on the coffee table and lit it. She stared at the crackling flame and the rising smoke from the cigarette before she slipped the butt into her mouth and took a pull.
As tears continued to pour from her eyes, she wished that she could rewind time and take herself back to a place where she felt okay with being by herself. But after a few minutes she wasn’t so sure that such a time had ever existed.
She heard Jabril’s keys in the front door and quickly wiped away the tears. She held her wineglass in one hand and her cigarettein the other. As soon as her son walked in she felt like a lush. She was sure if she stood up she would fall.
“Jabril,” she said, glancing at the clock, “what did I tell you about coming in this house so late? You’re on punishment, or did you forget?”
He closed the door behind him and before he could respond Jaise yelled, “Don’t slam my goddamn door!”
“What’s wrong with you?” He frowned. “I just walked in the door and already you’re startin’.”
“You’re not obeying my rules.”
“Ma”—he pointed to the clock—“it’s five o’clock.”
“But you get out of school at three!” she screamed.
“What are you screaming for? I took a few minutes and kicked it with a li’l shortie. You buggin’!”
“Don’t tell me I’m buggin’. I’m tired of ungrateful-ass men, and you growing up to be one, just like your daddy and just like Trenton.”
“I’m not like neither one of them! And I don’t appreciate you saying that to me, because I didn’t do nothing to you. What you need to do is go base off at ole dude who treats you like garbage.”
Jaise felt the dam in her eyes
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