The Hood Wife
Lifestyle. Marriage. Love. Motherhood
The sun was barely out, peaking through the shades as I let out a slow much needed stretch, from the tips of my fingers to the curl of my toes. I groaned softly before turning over to Homer who was already looking at his phone, swiping and texting away. James was for once, asleep in his own crib while Violet probably wouldn’t wake up for another 30 minutes or so. This was a rare opportunity in the middle of the week where I had Homer to myself.
“Morning,” I whispered as he turned to look at me before looking back at his phone.
He was concentrating on sending out an email before rubbing his nose with a sniff as he got up, butter ball naked and walked towards the bathroom. I had a brief, almost second thought of looking at his phone that was still unlocked but smiled when I realized he wasn’t going anywhere. Even if he did think about cheating or had the chance, and believe me, we’ve already had an incident in this neighborhood where one of the women here tried to come on to him behind her husband’s back. I was top tier sex as far as I was concerned.
He wasn’t going anywhere.
The toilet flush and the sink ran for a moment before he walked back into the bedroom, reaching for his underwear before crawling back into the bed.
“Why you making that face?” he asked, wrapping his arm around my body to pull me in his embrace.
“I was thinking about Dania,” I mumbled with a roll of my eyes, “your favorite neighbor, and how messy that whole situation was. All you have to do is smile at someone and they think they’re in love.”
Homer grinned as he took over my pillow, eyes piercing into mine with pretty boy innocence.
“You still jealous?”
“Please,” I laughed. “Jealous of what? You eye banging every woman in sight? Hardly. At least the men that admire me are classy about it, and do so privately, especially when they have no business doing so.”
The words escaped my lips before I could even catch the lie because Homer’s smile slowly fizzled out, straightening into a loose line as his brows came together.
“What you mean?” he questioned.
“Nothing Homer,” I said with a laugh, “Ignore that–––”
“Nah, I’m not ignoring shit. Who tried to get at you? Somebody in this neighborhood? Somebody that’s been in my face before?”
I just sighed, deciding I couldn’t turn back now with the lie because then he would crack jokes all day about it, but I could be vague enough. There have been slick comments from other men but nothing that would cause alarm, and definitely not in this neighborhood.
“Pia?” Homer called out.
“I said it's nothing, don’t even–––”
“See when you do shit like that, it makes me think it's something,” he claimed. “I told you the moment it happened, ol girl came at me on that dumb shit so I expect the same respect in return.”
“It’s small, just comments here and there. Nothing I would even worry about–––”
“I bet it's that nigga Terry,” he let out as my mouth dropped. One of the boys who lived a few doors down with his girlfriend and two kids. Terry made no pass at me, didn’t even speak half the time.
“It’s not but I promise you, if I ever felt disrespected, I know–––”
“But what about me? I don’t get the same courtesy? A man steps to you is an automatic disrespect to me. So if there is somebody that came at you in any way outside of being friendly, let me know. Especially if this nigga sniled in my face before.
“A man that steps to me will know I have someone that will step to him,” I said, turning into his side as I felt him physically calm down. “We all can’t be pretty like you Homer Skye…men aren’t falling at my feet the same way women are with you.”
“I don’t like when you joke like that,” he said with a twisted mouth.
“But it's true,” I laughed. “Maybe if I was a tad bit insecure it would bother me but...I’m just...I don’t know. A man may do a cat call or something….that’s about as far as it goes with me. I can promise you, none of these men here are even thinking about Pia Milton.”
“You’d be surprised,” he mumbled. “You don’t hear half the shit I hear or know about.”
“Mmmm,” pointing my finger against his cheek in a childish manner.
“I’ll be in New York next month for about two weeks. I need you to get everything together so yall can come with me.”
“Why are we going? It’s a work trip right?”
“Work and family related.”
“Okay so we can meet you up there just a few days before it's time to come back down. I don’t want to keep her out of daycare for longer than I have to,” I complained. “Just to be stuck with them by myself.”
“My mom’s side of the family is up there. All my cousins haven’t seen her since she was little and they haven’t met James yet. I don’t like being away from yall for longer than a few days so nah, you’re coming. I already bought our tickets.”
“Do you even bother to at least think about asking me before you rush out and do stuff like this? How do you know I didn’t have something planned, Homer? I could be going somewhere next month–––”
“I pay for everything in and outside of this house. If I say, I want my family with me, shouldn’t be no question–––”
“Unless you wanna sit home and flirt with these niggas out here while I’m away?”
I could feel myself about to get pissed when the door slowly opened. Violet was the first to peek her head in to see if we were asleep before she wrapped her arms around James who was standing on two bow-legged feet, and attempted to carry him into the bedroom. He was trying to pry her hands from around his stomach, wincing on his binky as he started to complain and whine until Violet chucked him towards the edge of the bed.
“He’s too big for you to keep carrying like that Violet,” I said, grabbing my son as she hopped on the bed and went straight for Homer.
“Guess where we’re going next month, Violet?” he asked, pulling her scarf down as she laid against his chest.
“New York,” he smiled, watching her eyes grow wide before settling back with her own matching grin. She didn’t have the slightest clue. “We get to get giant pizzas and hotdogs….we get to see family and go ride the train.”
“A train?!” she gasped. “Daddy I never been on a train before.”
“You have been on a train, baby,” he reminded as I grabbed my son and started for the bedroom door, “mommy is going to pack your bags–––”
“You paid for the tickets, you pack the damn bags. I’m not packing thing,” I snapped with the bedroom door slamming behind me. I smiled at James as I walked into his own bedroom and laid him down to get him changed for his diaper.
I gripped the headboard over my head as I looked back over my shoulder, whimpering with each stroke Akil was hitting from the side. My leg was cocked high in the air with him slamming into me from behind, beat after beat. Stroke after stroke as he reached underneath my arms to grab my breast and bite down on my neck. I could have screamed right then and there but this was our morning.
Most mornings really.
I would wake up first and as soon as I brushed up against him, he would grab my thigh underneath the sheets, and we were unable to keep our hands off each other. It was a ritual now to wake up like this unless we were just too damn tired to fuck but it was our coffee. Love me to sleep, fuck me awake as he says.
“This mine?” he asked against my ear as my eyes nearly curled backwards at the build up. “Huh? Who dis’ belong to?”
My mouth opened but no words came out as he paused, pulled out slowly as I gasped, releasing air I didn’t know I was holding until I felt my body face down in the bed. He caressed my head before sliding down the thick strands and double wrapping around his fist.
“Arch for me baby,” slapping my thigh as I weakly whined in defeat but that yank on my head caused my backside to lift as he pressed his arm down on my back to keep my stomach on the bed before pushing himself in once again and began to knock. I screamed his name repeatedly in the pillow, slobbery and drooling before my head came back from his grip as he reached to wrap around my neck. I felt like his body stretched over mine, lips angled just perfectly over mine from behind as we sloppily kissed one another. He pulled his lips back ever so slight with saliva stretching between us as he continued to pound.
“Good morning baby,” he said with a husky tone against my lips, “you love me?”
“Yessss,” I moaned.
“You won’t ever leave me?”
“Never, I promise,” I pleaded, feeling his tongue part my other pair of lips for a kiss. It was that mind trick shit he was doing, kissing me on the mouth, mirroring what I felt below while keeping a steady beat. Fucking Akil was like having sex with multiple people at the same time. I would be a fool to leave this. Sex would never be the same, and it wasn’t. I fell against the bed, letting him grab and wipe my ass like a globe with his own seed spilling about.
“You want a baloney sandwich?” he asked, getting off the bed to stretch as I laid there, handicapped with socks and a cropped shirt on. I mumbled something unintelligible in response. “Mmm...I’ma make a baloney sandwich for us both with some orange juice then. Don’t go nowhere.”
Where was I going to go? My day was already spent and I haven’t even started yet.
I stood impatiently at the car shop with my hand on my hip, irritated and annoyed. My morning already started off late and now this… My car was just slowly trying to give out on me. I’ve had this yellow bug for years but everyone was telling me to chuck it for a new car and I just wasn’t ready. My daughter had her first memories in this car, I just wasn’t ready to let it go.
Demarco wasn’t even in town so I couldn’t bug him to fix it or use his car. I was stuck with a mechanic who was being pushy. He knew I was deaf so I’m sure he took advantage by talking shit by the look on everyone’s faces around us, he must have been talking big shit too.
I glanced at my phone to check the time and to see if Demarco texted me back before groaning in frustration, and where the fuck was this nigga at anyway? I’ve been calling him since this morning about my damn car and no answer. Oh he was going to get cussed out too when he gets back.
When the old mechanic stood in front of me, he crossed his arms, leaned over to let out a spit too close for comfort as I cocked my head back with attitude.
“I told you–––”
“I don’t give a damn what you told me,” I snapped, signing with my hands swiping at the air with anger, “I know enough about cars to know that’s not the price to fix it, and I KNOW that’s not what’s wrong with my car. I’m telling you the issue–––”
“So then you fix it miss lady,” he snapped. “You came to me. I didn’t come to you.”
“I came to you because I was told you’re the best at what you do but you’re taking advantage of a woman, a BLACK woman at that–––”
His head turned to the side, saying something slick as I followed his mouth, trying to read. Demarco recommended this fool and I couldn’t even––– I looked down at my buzzing phone, seeing he finally texted me back but to my surprise, he was back in Atlanta with our daughter. In an attempt to surprise me for breakfast this morning.
I ignored the old man who could have been calling me all types of bitch as I texted him the name of the shop. I looked up at old man Rodney, the name of the place as he threw his hands up.
“Either stay and pay what the fuck is wrong with your car or leave. Your choice. I got paying customers to attend to, not no broke ass bitch–––”
“Bitch?!” I hollered, seeing his eyes grow wide, “Nigga I can read lips like a book! Who you calling a bitch?! My husband is on his way over here and–––”
“Don’t nobody give a damn about yo husband!” he hollered back, stepping to me as I popped my door open to toss my purse inside before slamming it shut. I could see two other men hollering in the back, waving me off but I wasn’t going anywhere.
“Always a black bitch with an attitude! That’s why yall got the problems you got now! You don’t listen! I’m telling you you the issues with yo car and you don’t wanna believe it because you think I’m tryna get over on you! Bring yo husband! I’ll tell his dumb ass too! Anybody marrying you is a sucka! READ THAT SHIT! Go head and get buck if you won’t to–––”
“Nigga I’m in yo face–––No! Turn and look at me! Say it with yo chest and look me in the eyes when you call me a bitch. I want you to talk this shit when he gets here–––”
The man waved me off as he turned and started for the three door garage shop. I could see the men laughing and getting together in his defense, coming to his aide and side while I stood there, still ready for whatever but I wasn’t moving. One thing about me, I was rarely wrong and I would go to hell and back to make sure you knew it too.
“I was going to take her to get some breakfast before sending her on her way,” I said into the phone, “yall still serving the menu right?”
“Nigga, I told you time and time again we don’t cook breakfast here. We’re not even open yet,” Junie said as I turned into street where the shop was.
Devyn Pop her Shit Carter. My wife might of been the craziest woman on this earth. As long as she didn’t pull a gun out, she hadn’t reached her breaking point but seeing the text messages come in from Rodney calling her a bitch, I was out of the car the second I turned into the shop.
“Let me call you back Junie,” I said as I closed the door shut. My daughter was still asleep from the road trip back home so I gripped my jeans up, seeing my wife standing there, innocent baby brown eyes, looking like she couldn’t bust a grape in a fruit farm but that was always the mistake people made about her.
“He’s tryna tell me it's the fucking timing belt!” she snapped, signing away as I looked around the shop for the man in charge. “I said, maybe I have radiator issues but where the fuck does the timing belt come in at? I never had that problem before!”
“Man looky here!” Rodney shouted, shoving the glass door open to step outside. He swiped a blue rag across his forehead as he immediately came towards me. “ I told yo wife–––”
“You calling her a bitch?” I questioned, flashing my piece tucked in my waist, “Rodney you know me nigga. I sent her to you because I wasn’t here. I expected you to treat her with–––”
“She came at me! Insulting my intelligence!” he argued. “Look,” holding his hands out with a nervous tone, “I didn’t call her a bitch–––”
“LIAR!” Devyn hollered. “Black bitch is what you said! I told you my husband was coming, don’t get scared now nigga! You should of been afraid of me because I’m the one to pull the trigger!”
“I’m sorry,” Rodney said, refusing to look at my wife, “look...you know me… You know me. We’ve been doing business for years. I didn’t know she was your wife–––I told her she got a timing belt issue and she’s not tryna hear the price. She’s talking about the radiator this and that...How would she even know? You know I wouldn’t play with nobody’s money like that, especially my sistas. Come on man…She’s crazy–––”
“Watch yo self nigga,” I warned. “Go crank the car and let me see what’s going on. After that, you need to apologize to my wife. I’m not gonna embarrass you the way she already did but make no mistake, I’ma act a fool over that one if you ever fix yo mouth to disrespect her again. You think she’s crazy? Nigga you know where I come from, who I am and what I’m about…”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to talk out of turn like that with her,” he said, taking the keys as he nodded towards Devyn who glared at him. He reached into the car to cut it on and I heard the belt screaming before he could finish cranking it. Her radiator was fucked but not where near as bad as the belt. Rodney cut me a look before reaching back in to cut it off as we stood in front of the hood.
“See what I’m saying? You know me Demarco...I’m not tryna get over on her. She’s a beautiful bright young woman...and you did good for yourself. Your dad was telling me how much you’ve grown and changed–––”
“Nigga cut all that shit out,” I said, glancing at my wife before ducking behind the hood, “this is what you’re gonna do. Apologize to her and tell her it's the radiator and you’ll have her car ready by this afternoon. I’ll come pick it up and pay–––”
“I don’t give a fuck what it is. I rather her walk away with her respect that you took away from her the moment you called her out of her name than tell the truth. Handle that now before we have more problems,” I threatened, slamming the hood of the trunk down.
Devyn stood there, waiting for the apology she knew she was going to get. I kept a watchful eye on the back seat of my car, seeing our daughter was still peacefully sleeping when Rodney walked up to her and began to talk, apologizing repeatedly towards her.
“What was the problem?” she asked, squinting her eyes in suspicion, “it was the radiator? Wasn’t it?”
“Yeah baby,” I sighed, scratching at my head, “nigga was tryna do too much. Yo belt a lil fucked up but it’s not tapping out just yet.”
“I knew it!” she hollered as Rodney walked off, waving for the men to get ready.
“Come on, get your stuff out. I’ll take you in to work and I’ll pick up your car to make sure the shit was done properly.”
“It needs to be free the way he talked to me. You should have heard him,” she said as she started to clean her car out. I smiled. “Ugh, I hate Wednsdays!”
“Yeah, me too,” I said, closing the door as I draped my arm over her shoulders, and leaned in for a kiss. Just ever so lightly, I whispered against her ear,
“But baby, you was wrong as fuck, tryna embarrass these niggas out here. That’s why yo ass is crazy, but you mine. You my kind of crazy so I fucks with it, with yo crazy ass.”
She turned to look at me, loving eyes soaking in all of me and my shit as we kissed on the lips.
“I love you too,” she said as I smiled.