Page 28 of Our Mother's Sons

“Voyage. You know I love you. I really do. But you have to start looking into these men. Having a one-night stand is one thing, but the minute you decided to take it further, you should have been asking questions. Now, I like Jovani, and I would be the last person to tell you to walk away from a dope boy. Hell, I have one myself that I would never leave. But us not doing our due diligence on Dutton is how you got caught up with that shit show. Granted, you hit the jackpot, and according to Riker, he’s a good dude, but you gotta do better, mamas. Had that nigga been a fucking serial killer, then I would be part to blame because I pushed you to him so I got to tighten up too. I don’t want you to ever get in a situation where I can’t see you again. It had been a year last time. What if it’s forever the next?”

Baela wasn’t telling me anything wrong. I’d fallen for Jovani and fallen fast. I couldn’t even lie. It was the same way with Dutton. Just like now, finding out Jovani was a kingpin still didn’t have me wanting to walk away from him, as I was with Dutton. I had to have gotten this shit from my mama and we see how that didn’t end to well for her.

“You’re going to be okay, though. Just keep putting that pussy on him so these pussyasshoes won’t try and think they coming for your spot. Thankfully, you ended up with a boss and not a bum. Hallelujah. Now, what’s this I hear about Dutton? I know the nigga didn’t come up after leaving you flat on your ass.”

I sighed. It was fuck Dutton but he most definitely owed me. He owed me for so much shit that he couldn’t even afford the tab because many of the things were indeed priceless.

Baela lifted her glass and then removed her phone from her bra. She was constantly telling me to keep mine out because it caused breast cancer, but she kept hers in it. She was pecking away on her phone as she sipped her lemon drop.

“What are you doing?”

“Girl, I’m looking that nigga up from my fake page. He blocked me when he kept you away and even though I hadn’t thought about his ass, I’m looking him up today. Let me see what the fuck going on.”

Dutton had me blocked, too, and even though I could have made a fake page to stalk his accounts, I refrained. I honestly didn’t ever want to see him again, let alone his page. He could go to the lowest pits of hell for all I cared. But seeing him appearing to be pocket heavy had me vexed.

“Biiiitch!”

“What?”

“You said he had the white bitch pregnant and it looked like she was only a couple months, well, her ass was further than that. Look, they had the baby.”

Baela scooted close to me to show me the clear ass newborn on the screen. There was a pink band around her head. The picture dated back to a week ago, meaning she was in her last trimester when I saw them at the restaurant. Dutton hadn’t posted the photo himself; the girl did and tagged him. There weren’t any likes on the picture, but there was one comment.

Dutton Finesser Chester: Delete this shit. Didn’t I tell you not to post her at all?

“That nigga so pitiful. Why in the fuck can’t that girl post her damn baby? I hate niggas.”

Baela scrolled through the picture and went down Dutton’s page. This nigga was living it up. There were pictures of him in various cities, he had two cars, one being a mustang truck and the other the Benz, and all he did was post money, talk shit, and be seen. He’d come a long way from the Dutton that didn’t have shit on shit and was bad mouthing any nigga that wouldn’t put him on including his uncle. He’d finally gotten the life he wanted. Niggas did shit like that. They gave you the most fucked up version of them while they lived it up with another bitch. That man had ruined me. Crushed me and was on top of the world now. Unfuckingbelievable. I was wrong for letting him convince me to cut my cousin off that year. Man, I was dumb.

“This nigga must’ve ran off on the plug or got the ultimate sugar mama because there is no way he came up.”

I shook my head.

“You know the white girls in Florida only going for black dudes if they tricking off. They are not taking care of them at all.”

“True. Let me click on her page.”

Baela scrolled back up and clicked on the profile that posted the baby picture. Our noses crinkled because the girl only had one hundred friends on Facebook.

“This gotta be her fake page,” Baela mumbled.

I didn’t know if it was a fake page or not, but it was definitely the blonde-haired, blue-eyed lady from Jonah's. Her profile picture was a face shot of her with the beach in the background. Scrolling her page, there were nothing but videos of her with red-rimmed eyes.

“Look where she from? Same city Riker locked up at. Two hours away. So what the fuck they was doing in Jonah’s on a week day?”

The city hopping for lunch wasn’t suspicious or a crime, but I was anxious to see what the videos of her crying were about. Before Baela clicked on them, she scrolled her profile, and there weren’t any pictures of Dutton, only that one picture of the baby that she posted.

“I want to start from the bottom with the videos so we won’t be confused. Maybe the nigga emptied her bank account.”

Baela and I were experts on social media drama. With her man locked up and me just as lonely, we caught all the drama and live videos, and when one didn’t see it, we sent it to the other. We would have whole think pieces on other folk drama. We needed a life badly.

Clicking on the video, Baela turned her volume up as I leaned over to see.

“Facebook. I know I don’t have many friends here, but please help this go viral. I need to get my thoughts together, so come back for part two. Please. I can not believe this is my life.”

When the video ended, my stomach dropped to the floor. I didn’t know what she was about to expose, but I didn’t have a good feeling about it.

Baela clicked on the following video.

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