Final Countdown

Set

“Don’t roll the onesie, Casey. You gotta fold it right!”

“It’s two of everything, mama. If I roll it, it’ll all fit in the drawers.”

Brina makes this cute ass face as she rubs her belly. It’s more than swollen, with the babies moving constantly, like they know they’re set to be evicted.

Brina’s getting induced in two days. Her psycho ass family is on the way down now, but they’re only staying until the birth, since Big Mama acts like she can’t breathe if it’s not Northupton air.

“Casey. What the hell did I say do?”

My hands freeze as my eyes slowly shift from this olive green onesie to my baby mama.

She’s at the head of the bed, hands rubbing her contorted belly, glaring at me.

Turk and Nutty said when women get to they third trimester, they start nesting like a muthafucka. Getting nurseries together, folding clothes and shit.

And at first, Brina was nesting. And running around the city with Rico. And planning Dal’s wedding with her. And trying to act like she could do it all.

Now, my poor baby just sits at the head of the bed, rubbing her belly, being mean as fuck.

We have a stare off, neither one of us relenting. Because she may know who the fuck she was talking to, but I want her ass to confirm it.

Eventually, she groans where her stomach pokes out. My little got my back fasho.

“Casey, can you please just do it how I want? I can’t do it,” she whines, that bottle lip poking out.

“I can’t fold it like that, B.” I sigh, placing the onesie down to try and flex my right hand.

Her eyes dart to it, and now she’s really full on sobbing.

Shit. This exactly what I was trying to avoid.

I leave the clothes at the foot of the bed and climb toward her. Lately, she doesn’t like to be touched, but I still grab her foot, kissing it before placing pressure on her arch. “You know I can’t take your tears, mama. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is! I’m so insensitive!” She buries her face in her hands, shoulders bopping up and down. “I’m so sorry, Casey. It’s just, your big head babies are ruining my stomach! I can’t sleep! I can’t even fold the babies’ clothes!”

I pull her by the feet as she continues to wail, then move so that I’m sitting behind her, cradling our lil’ bundles of joy.

She leans back into me, her wails slowly becoming hiccups.

“You feel better, mama?” I ask when she’s calmed down.

“No. I’m still fat and insensitive.”

“I mean, you been being mean as fuck, but I take the shit in stride. Besides, six weeks and two days from now, I’m getting that shit back in blood.”

She laughs, interlocking our fingers and wrapping our arms around her, before bringing my right hand to her mouth and kissing my palm.

“I couldn’t do this without you,” she whispers into my hand.

Her phone begins to vibrate, and when I see it’s her brother, I untangle myself from her. “Can’t nobody deal with yo mean ass but me anyway. I’ll go get them. Stay here.”

“Ha ha. And to think I was gonna let you get some action tonight.” She sticks her tongue out at me.

“Don’t nobody wanna fuck you from the side anyway,” I taunt, dodging a pillow as I make my way out of our bedroom.

I shake my head at the bickering I hear before I even get to the front door. I’m glad our neighbors are far away because got damn.

It’s even louder once I open the door and walk out. 

“Just let me help you–”

“Trenton, get the hell up out my face! I can get out of the damn car!” Big Mama yells, even though she’s still inside the SUV, holding onto the oh shit handle.

Mekhi’s getting the bags out of his own car as his wife Nita climbs out of the passenger seat.

“Future Dad! How are you feeling?” she beams.

“Surreal. Be warned, she’s on one.”

“What else is new?” Mekhi snorts. I grab one of the bags with my left hand, slapping his back with the right.

“Waddup, brodie?” I cheese. Mekhi mugs me as we walk inside of the house.

“You got my baby sister up in this house being sucked dry by your psycho gray-eyed babies. Don’t test me right now.”

“Good talk.” I set his bag down and go back outside. Tre rushes by me with some luggage, muttering under his breath, and Big Mama is still chilling, car door open, holding the oh shit handle.

She cuts her eyes to me when I walk up on her. “Casey, you ain’t too old to get beat.”

“I’m already knowing,” I chuckle, folding my arms. “Yo favorite great-grand is up there cutting up, being mean to yo real favorite great-grand. She’s only gon’ listen to you.”

Her lips twitch. “I don’t play favorites. You know that.”

“It’s just us… I won’t tell nobody… if you let me help you inside.”

She takes a second to think about it, so she can feel like it’s her idea. She really hates my city, but we’re here, and it’s Brina’s first pregnancy to term, so she’s out of her comfort zone. Even if it’s for less than a week.

“Well, come on, then. Help a lady out of the car.”

She huffs and puffs for show, since I barely let her feet touch the ground. I handle most of her slight weight up the stairs, while she makes little inside jokes with me. 

Soon, we’re at my bedroom, and I help her into the chair Nita pulls closer to the bed.

“Now, what’s this I hear of my Baby Girl being a sour puss?” she frets.

Nita snorts as she folds the baby clothes how B wants them.

“So you’re snitching?”

I kiss Big Mama on the cheek, winking at my baby mama. “I’ll leave you ladies to it. I got my walkie on me if you need me.”

“Don’t let them see you sweat, Case,” Nita says, but she’s not making sense, so I just nod.

As soon as I close my door, these overgrown niggas grab me up.

And I’m over they bullshit, so I just let them, rolling my eyes.

Tre lets me go, pushing me into Mekhi. “Yo ass just gon’ let us take you? And you want me to let you be with Baby Girl?”

“A little late for that,” I smirk, pushing Mekhi out the way to go down the stairs. “I’m locked in. Big Mama love me. B love me. Nita love me.”

“Sad shit to die before you see your kids be earthside, nigga,” Mekhi grits.

Tre cackles as I lead them to the back. My pack is already out there, and we sit on the deck as I begin to take my papers and OG out. 

“This is all your fault,” Mekhi says, mugging Tre. “If you’d been on your shit, she woulda never came out here, and we would–”

“Have had Qionte fucking Mathers rolling up y’all weed. Imagine that.”

“He’s gotta point. Guess I’m also the one to thank. Say thank you, nigga.”

“Y’all are a trip. Wait… can you even smoke?” I eye Tre, who waves me off.

“I’m waiting on one of my ladies to hit me back. Weed was never my thing.”

Mekhi and I share a look, but Tre doesn’t catch it.

“My baby girl is having twins… you know, twins run in the family. My aunties, my cousins… shit, I was a twin.”

“Pop,” Mekhi guffaws. “You were not a twin.”

Tre has the nerve to look offended. “How the fuck you gon’ tell me?” He turns to me, daring me to say something. “Like I fuckin’ said, I was a twin.”

“Aight, so where my uncle then?”

Tre grins, and I shake my head, knowing it’s finna be some bullshit.

“I killed they ass. What nigga you know had a body count before they were even born? Tre Young da Truth, muthafucka.”

“You just be saying anything, Pop.”

I lick the paper to seal it. “It’s called Vanishing Twin Syndrome. He prolly was a twin, and then he or she passed and then this rock head nigga absorbed them in the womb.”

“See? And you call yoself a Rhodes Scholar. How he know shit you don’t? Think about that while I go wine and wine yo future step mama.” I hold in my lunch as he smacks his lips and tries to pimp walk away, back into the house.

“Real shit, though. You good?” Mekhi asks as I light up.

I inhale the indica, letting it marinate in my lungs before I answer. “Real shit. I’m scared as hell. But I guess… more excited.”

“Look at you, being vulnerable with someone other than Baby Girl and yo bros.”

I hand him the joint, smirking. “You my bro, too. You call I’m there bussin’ heads. Or you forgot?”

Mekhi blows out his smoke the other way before he grins and daps me up. “Soft ass nigga. But kids, they make you soft as fuck. It’s a double edged sword; wanting to be more careful, so your sins don’t fall back on them. But being more ruthless, so to outweigh the fear, and make sure no one gets any ideas… an adjustment, but you got it. How the Triplets been?”

“Shit, you gotta ask Reem and Ty. Soon as they touched down I stepped back. Been into my other business interests. But I heard YT the real maniac out of them.”

Mekhi’s expression turns proud. “Yeah… don’t get me wrong. Cain and Prince do they shit, fasho. But Love is my Number Two for a reason. She could have been the president if she didn’t get sent up top. Shit, she still can, the way this country’s going.”

I snicker as my eyes get lower, the kush doing its job. I know he’s gonna give me shit, but I think between the babies and being in love and shit, I am getting soft.

So I say it anyway. “Thanks… for you know, always checking on me and shit.”

“Like you said, we brothers. Need you on the up and up at all times.”

We finish the j, as he tries to tell me why I should hope for boy/girl twins so I won’t be trying to get B pregnant again. And like most of the time when he or Tre or any of the luney Youngs Big Mama gave birth to go on their tangents, I let him talk.

Until my walkie goes off. 

“Casey! Casey! Her water broke!”