Chapters (43)
- WAHIDA CLARK PRESENTS:
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- Chapter Thirty-Three
- Chapter Thirty-Four
- Chapter Thirty-Five
- Chapter Thirty-Six
- Chapter Thirty-Seven
- Chapter Thirty-Eight
- Chapter Thirty-Nine
- Chapter Forty
- Chapter Forty-One
- Wahida Clark on Mental and Behavioral Health
Tasha was the first to pipe in. “Yeah booooyeeeee!” She said in her Flava Flav voice. “Now that sounds like fun. My man ain’t here to take me out. And since he’s not, he better come with a real nice bank roll for putting me through this shit.” She looked off, probably thinking the same thing I was, like all the shit we’d been through with these niggas. Murders, kidnappings, jail, robberies. Our relationships and our marriages had been crazy!
But that was what we signed up for when we got with them. Loving them came with all the crazy and stressful bullshit. And as crazy as it sounds, I still wasn’t walking away.
Kyra, who was looking depressed, worrying about her Rick situation, suddenly perked up, snapping her fingers, and seat dancing. “Hell yeah, let’s do it!”
Jaz had the worst attitude of us all and had been upset since Faheem wasn’t fucking her or with her because of her birth control shenanigans. She too perked right up at the mention of my Pajama Jammie Jam. “Oh, as long as we have some decent food, I’m down.”
What does Jaz think decent food is with her vegan ass? “I don’t want no tofu!” I told her.
“Girl, I make a mean hummus!”
“I don’t think so. We need some chicken wings and margaritas and some weed. Where we going to get some from?” Kyra interjected.
“We can watch a movie.”
“And we got to binge on The Comedy Get Down.” Tasha was pumped up. She rubbed her stomach, which was still sore from the C-section as she lay on the sofa bed.
“Okay, we can play charades,” Kyra suggested, or should I say she always suggested charades. “Or we can keep it hood. Get that spades game going, dawg! Sheeit, you talking about doing it how we used to.” She stood up to high-five her cheating partner, Tasha.
“All right, all right; it’s on. I’ma make sure we get turnt up.” I was excited. “And don’t worry about the weed. I got that covered.”
Seeing my girls happy made me happy. Shit, we had all been through hell and back and once again we were going through some shit, so it was only right that I turned their frowns into smiles.