Page 44 of Maybe I’m the Problem

The same nigga that I bumped into a few weeks ago was right outside of Summer’s door like he was ready to walk in. Looking briefly at his name tag, I noticed his name was Trey. It didn’t ring a bell that I could recall. So much shit went on in my life that if it wasn’t about my money or Summer, I pushed that shit out of my mind.

“You need something?” I asked him before moving from in front of the door.

“I got a request to check the beds on this floor. It’s routine, especially on this floor, being that they have to break the bed down for them to start pushing, you know.”

“Oh, okay cool. She’s in the bed so do I need to get her up?”

“No, she can stay in the bed.”

“I don’t think she’ll be comfortable with you in the room, so I’ll stay until you finish.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll make sure to keep the door open. The nurse's station is right here. I take my job very seriously.”

“I hope you do, Trey.” I looked him up and down before moving from in front of the door.

It felt so good to get out. Besides running home to grab something for Summer and I, most of my time was spent with her. I didn’t want to miss anything. When the doctor came in, I wanted him to see me. I wanted Summer to know she wasn’t in this alone. After a while though, the walls started to close in on me.

The gambling house was my first stop. Since we moved, this was big for me and LJ. My money came from this among other shit but this was my number one money maker. LJ was pulling up at the same time. Tonight was poker and dominoes. Dominos brought out the old heads, but poker brought out the folks that were making good money.

“Summer let you out, huh?”

“Summer don’t run shit. I’m a grown ass nigga, and I move when I want to.”

“Nigga, please. Let that phone ring right now and you hauling ass.”

“Only because I don’t want to miss nothing. Summer knows she doesn’t run shit in my life.”

“I don’t know how you plan on marrying her. Shit about to change once she gets that last name.”

“On my mama, ain’t shit gon’ change.”

LJ shrugged as we walked up to the house. The spot was set up like any other house. It was fully furnished but this time we bought a house with a basement. We had one of our dope fiends build a wall to separate the space so we could run two things at one time.

I liked this spot more than the last one. Summer didn’t know where it was so she couldn’t pop up and show out. LJ baby mama didn’t know either and we liked it that way because business was business with us. We didn’t need them busting our shit up and then the cops are called.

It was now seven at night and Summer had called me twice but I was in the process of counting money. Gambling started an hour ago and we were damn near over on the pots. The first of the month was important. The hustlers took all the crackheads social security checks, snatched up baby mama food stamp cards and sold the stamps, and there were the ones that really had money like Pinkie who was sitting across the table, winking at me.

“Stop fucking looking at her,” LJ nudged me as I focused back on the money.

“Fuck she doing here? I’ve never known her to gamble.”

“Shit, her ass be on those slot machines at the Indian store. Nobody ever sees her ass ducked off back there. Rumor has it that’s where she got her large sum of money to start her club.”

“How the fuck she heard about us? Our shit is exclusive.” I placed the winnings in a duffel bag as I stared at her.

“She knows somebody that know somebody, I guess.”

Pinkie sat there talking shit with the niggas. Her hair was laid and pulled up into a high ponytail that trailed down to her wide plump ass. She didn’t wear much makeup on her face. Some clear gloss and lashes. With her being the only woman in the room, I could clearly smell her perfume.

“Maybe you should head back to the hospital and I can handle this shit,” LJ suggested.

“I’m good.”

“I’m trying to save your ass here. Summer done called your ass over and over again. Do you want her to worry and get sick?”

My phone buzzed in my hand. Thinking it was Summer sending a threatening text, I opened it but it was Pinkie.

Do Not Answer: I can meet you upstairs in the bedroom. No one would know.