Ashanta had pretty much the same built as me, but her ass was a little bit smaller. Like me, she
had a tiny ass waist, wide hips, fat and curvaceous ass that would make a man and a woman do a double take. She didn’t wear a bunch of weave and shit like I did because she had naturally, long silky hair that would make her a fool for putting weave in. She had inherited the same gray colored eyes as her mom, which was my mom’s sister, and she had a small gap between her nice set of pearly whites.
Looking at Ashanta, you wouldn’t even know that she had two sons because her body was sick. I had seen this bitch naked on plenty of occasions, and there was no sign of stretch marks or cellulite on her body. Her son, Diante Junior was seven, and her youngest, Dion, was four. Her kids were bad as fuck. Just the other day, she had to beat their ass for trying to flush my good wigs down the toilet. When their parents weren’t around, the two of them would curse like sailors. They were handsome little boys, just bad as fuck.
“Diante just dropped them off to his mother’s house. I’m working tonight, and he says that he has something to do, so no one would be able to stay home with them tonight,” she let me know, and I nodded.
“What ever happened with ole girl popping up on you last night? You just jumped in the car and didn’t say shit about it,” Ashanta pressed the issue.
She was smoking a blunt, and I don’t know if she thought that I needed it or she was just being nice and letting me hit it, but she ended up passing it to me. I took a few deep pulls from it.
“That’s Trip’s baby mama, Jashae. She’s watching Maya for me,” I said.
All of this was news to Ashanta. She was under the impression that my mama had Maya. I could feel her eyes on me. One thing about us, we weren’t going to sugar coat shit, and from the heat that was coming my way from her eyes, I knew that she was going to read me for filth.
“I thought you told me that you didn’t know his baby mama like that. I thought the two of y’all just went to school together,” she said, not forgetting the piece of information that I told her years ago when Trip and I started dating.
“I don’t know her like that,” I let her know.
“Then why the fuck you got that bitch watching your child? She’s practically a damn stranger. I’m confused,” Ashanta said.
I tried to hand her back the blunt, and she shook her head, basically letting me know that she didn’t want it.
“Because I know that she’s not going to harm Maya. Yeah, I’m her mother, but that doesn’t mean that I’m the best pick for her to be with. I saw Maya last night, and she had nice braids in her hair, clean clothes, clean shoes. She good over there. I gotta get my shit together first. I done failed that girl too many fuckin’ times,” I voiced.
“And you’re going to let her keep your daughter for good?” she quizzed.
I didn’t answer that question, but my silence spoke volumes.
“Wowwww. What does Trip think of all of this? He knows you got y’all daughter with her?” she asked.
“He knows because I originally left Maya with his mama after telling her that I would come back. I guess she ran back and told him that I pulled a fast one on her. He left a voicemail on my phone, laying me out like a dirty ass dog. Telling me everything from he regretted putting his dick in me to he was going to get some Miami bitches to run down on me and beat my ass. You know, just typical jail house threats that I know he isn’t going to live up to.
“We talking about a nigga that’s serving a life sentence. He don’t have no fuckin’ room to talk about me and the way that I’m parenting when he can’t do a fuckin’ thing for Maya behind them walls besides draw her a fuckin’ picture,” I snapped.
Just when Ashanta was about to respond, we both heard the front door to the apartment slam. We both turned around, only to see that it was her fine ass baby daddy, Diante, walking into the house. He saw us, so he came right for the patio. If I stared at his ass any longer, my cousin would want to fight me for fantasizing over her man, so I looked the other way, although it was so fuckin’ hard.
This nigga had the nerve to be walking around in gray sweatpants that showed me every reason why Ashanta would never leave his ass. That dick was hanging down like another leg. On top of that, he had the nerve to have on a wife beater which showed the many tattoos that he had all on his arm, his chest, even the few that he had on his hands. I wasn’t sure if my cousin’s pussy was just that good, but he had her name right above his right eyebrow, again on the side of his neck, and once again on his ring finger.
Diante was tall. I want to say over 6’7”. This nigga had served a lot of jail time, and his body was built like it. Instead of going to the gym and working out, this man who would go outside and bench press shit like old tires from a car and bricks; I knew because I watch him through the living room window.
Ever since I was introduced to him almost nine years ago when the two of them started dating, he still had braids with his nice ass hair. Today, he had them styled in two French braids that were going back. He sighed when he came outside, and I noticed the permanent gold teeth that he had on the top and bottom row of his mouth. Everything about this man was hood perfection. His nice, caramel skin, even the few freckles that he had on his face, his beautiful light brown eyes, everything. My cousin was lucky. Too fuckin’ lucky.
“That’s my shit y’all smoking?” was the first thing that Diante asked.
“Bae, that’s the same weed from what you gave me last night,” Ashanta called out to him.
“Come inside. Let me talk to you,” he told her.
I watched her as she rolled her eyes and then stood up. He was standing by the patio door with it open, and she had to squeeze by him to get through. He slapped her hard as hell on her ass, and his eyes stayed on me a few seconds longer before he went back inside. I knew this nigga hated me. He didn’t have to say it. It was the vibe that he gave off. He barely spoke to me, and just the other day, I eavesdropped on him and my cousin’s conversation and heard him ask her when I was going home.
Knowing him, he probably didn’t like me because he couldn’t fuck me since I was his girlfriend’s cousin. I wasn’t a grimy bitch like that to fuck behind family, but I wouldn’t tell if he didn’t.
I sat outside for another fifteen minutes or so until I finally went back inside the apartment. First thing I heard upon entering the apartment was loud banging, moaning, screaming, and what sounded like crying. Having to enviously listen to my cousin get her back blown out was amongst so many things that I hated about having to sleep there. Most times, I caught an earful of their sexcapades during the night. I rarely had to listen to them during the day.
The noises sounded like they were coming from the laundry room, which was downstairs. Instead of staying in the living room, where I would usually go, I went to the kids’ bedroom, since that was the furthest, and I wouldn’t have to hear them. I laid my body down on the carpeted floor for about ten minutes. Just when I was about to close my eyes, the bedroom door pushed open. It was Diante standing there. The hickies that were on his neck that weren’t there when he came in a few moments ago, the fresh cut that was on the other side of his neck, mixed with his shirt off, proved to me that he’d just finished fuckin’.
“How much longer you think you going to be here?” he rudely asked me.