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GERMAYNE KADEEM MALONE

“ A ye, G man. What’s good, bro?” My boy Desi greets me once I answer the phone.

Desi Williams has been my best friend since our sandbox days and my man one hundred grand.

He’s also my only friend who I’ve had to fight before working to fix our friendship.

If Desi was of the opposite sex, we would be the perfect inspiration for a breakup-to-makeup love ballad.

Yet, I wouldn’t trade him because he’s never ceased to have my back whenever I need him.

“Chilling, man. I needed this day off because my ass has been staring at more open vaginas than my eyes can stand. I’m tired and need today to breathe more than amniotic fluids. What’s good with you?”

I’m not sure how my thirty-year-old ass got into the field I’m in, but despite my griping, I love my job.

As a physician’s assistant, I get the opportunity to practice medicine without having the responsibility of holding the title.

I work at Baxter Medical Center and tend to float around every available department because I love variety.

However, for the last ten months, I’ve been working in gynecology, assisting doctors with birthing babies.

Getting the opportunity to help mothers bring new life into the world is something I didn’t think I would enjoy.

Yet, it’s one of the best things I’ve done since obtaining my credentials.

“I can dig it. Although, I’m wondering when you’re gonna get tired of working with the gynie squad. You couldn’t pay me to push my fingers into pussy that I’m not making cum,” Desi states.

“This is why you stay in trouble. What do you want, though?”

“You gotta talk to Nay’s ass, dawg. She’s tripping, and I’m tired of going back and forth with her stubborn ass.”

Chardonnay, or Nay as Desi calls her, is my cousin and the woman he entertains, which is the root cause of some of our past fallouts.

I tried telling Desi to leave my cousin alone, but his stupid ass got lost in the family curse, .

. . big butts. The problem occurred when Desi attempted to be with Chardonnay and decided to explore her options.

Chardonnay was raised by my uncle Cooper who taught her that relationships are for suckers.

Uncle Cooper not only got left at the altar by Chardonnay’s mother, but she also left him to raise Chardonnay.

Her actions made Uncle Cooper bitter, which spilled over into how he raised Chardonnay.

“Come on, G. Say something. Your cousin got me sitting outside her condo, looking like a simp. I can’t keep fighting for this girl like this,” Desi says.

Desi has been around too long to not understand that Chardonnay isn’t gonna change her ways until she’s ready to do so, no matter how much he pleads with her.

It’s the main reason I warned him not to go there with my cousin, but a hard head makes a soft behind.

Therefore, Desi is in the fuck around and find out phase of his mating dance with Chardonnay.

“Remember what you said after our last fallout. Now you gotta stand on that rah-rah foolishness with ten toes down. This situation is above me. I’ll holla, though.” Disconnecting the call, I drop my phone in my lap, returning to Bad Boys For Life .

“I don’t know why that boy doesn’t leave Chardonnay alone. They’ve been mismatched from the beginning. My son got that girl acting like she’s a man without feelings, and poor Desi didn’t see it coming,” Grandma Jolene speaks up, reminding me of her presence before I can focus on the movie.

Jolene Malone is my father’s mother and the woman I value as much as I do my mother. Jolene keeps to herself and doesn’t intervene in anybody’s business for the most part. She generally speaks her peace and moves on, which is more than likely what she’s doing now.

“Mhm,” I utter noncommittally.

“A man has gotta know when to drop the cards and take the loss on the chin. That’s what Desi needs to do because Chardonnay is gonna keep running over him like a freight train.

Poor girl ain’t had a womanly instinct since she was born.

Cooper refused to let me help with her, so it’s too late for me to try to change her now.

It’s a shame too. Chardonnay is such a pretty girl, but she’s gonna lose all her wits running around here living out her Cooper Malone instructions. ”

Come on, Grandma Jolene. I ain’t trying to consume myself with business that ain’t mine. Desi told me to mind the business that pays me, so I intend to do just that.

“Why would you invite her, though, Sis?”

Staring at Essence, I try to control the inferno boiling within me from the information she just shared with me.

Essence is the baby between her and me, which often means she gets her way with our parents and me.

At this moment, I want to wring her neck because I’m not sure why she made the decision to invite my ex to her upcoming wedding.

If I had it my way, the last thing Essence would be doing at twenty-one is getting married.

Yet, neither of our parents sees a problem with her age or the fact that her fiancé is eight years older than her.

Essence hasn’t told me where she met the dude, but I think she’s too young and inexperienced to make a lifetime commitment of this magnitude.

“I felt bad for her because she knows about the wedding and looked so hurt when she saw me having brunch with my bridesmaids,” Essence informs me.

“That was just her way of playing on your sympathies, baby. If nothing else, Sherita is a master manipulator who wants nothing more than to get your brother to fall for her foolishness.” Ma interjects, taking the words from my mouth like she has a mirror inside my brain, reading my exact thoughts.

“Not to mention, she’s an opportunist who desires to snag a man to take care of her. My son ain’t about to fall for the okey doke as long as I’m living,” Dad adds before I have a chance to speak on Ma’s statement.

I should have known that spending quality time with Grandma Jolene would lead to unplanned visits from my parents and sister. Yet, I love Grandma Jolene’s company too much to worry about the three of them interrupting the bonding between Grandma Jolene and me.

“I don’t know why y’all came in here with all this negative energy, interrupting our flow.

Essence, you know that Sherita set your gullible too nice behind up.

I’ve been dying to slather oil on her like Crisco, so don’t be mad if I wreck your wedding if the demon shows her cards during your nuptials.

” Grandma Jolene interjects, pulling out the travel-size bottle of Holy oil she keeps on her at all times.

A low chuckle escapes my mouth at the look of determination on Grandma Jolene’s face, because it wouldn’t be the first time she’s threatened to bathe Sherita in oil.

After dealing with Sherita’s crazy antics, I should have let Grandma Jolene have her way before ending the relationship.

Yet, subjecting myself to Sherita’s split personalities any longer wouldn’t allow me to keep progressing in a dead end situation.

Messing with Sherita Albert, I plan to take my time with the next woman I allow in my space romantically.

*ding*

Sherita Albert has tagged you in a post on Facebook

“See, now you got this crazy ass girl tagging me in posts because you wanted to be nice,” I say, looking at Essence before going to social media to see what’s awaiting me.

Sherita Malone-Albert

Don’t tell me God doesn’t answer prayers. I’m one step closer to securing my blessings with that man. Haha, take that haters… he’s coming back home.

#myman #myworld #foreverus

“If delusional and needs medication is a person, Sherita would be the spokesperson. See what the hell you started?” Turning my phone so Essence can see the post from Sherita, I stare daggers into my little sister’s gullible ass.

“Sorry, Germayne. I didn’t think to clear it with you before inviting her,” Essence says, hanging her head.

“Hm. That’s the problem, and now I have to find a way to avoid cuckoo at all costs. Thanks a lot, Sis.” Walking out of the living room, I head to my room to cool down so I don’t wind up shaking some sense into my baby sister.

“Why the long face, sweetie? Whatever it is can’t be that bad. Cheer up. Brighter days are ahead,” Nurse Lucy says when I exit the employee locker room the next day.

In typical Nurse Lucy fashion, she doesn’t slow her strides to receive an answer to her inquiry, which causes me to shake my head and continue to my destination.

My mood isn’t the best because Sherita made another post on Facebook sharing an old picture of the two of us.

People were celebrating our reconciliation despite having any confirmation from me, which pissed me off.

It took every single sense the good Lord gave me to stop myself from responding to the bullshit.

Like the idiot I am, I got on Facebook this morning, only to see that the post had over three hundred comments and nearly five hundred reactions.

“Unless you want those expecting mommies to chew you up and spit you out, I suggest you change that frown into a pleasant smile,” Dr. Carpenter suggests once I reach my destination roughly ten minutes later.

“Oh, don’t trip. You know those women can’t resist my handsome face, frowning or not,” I tell Dr. Carpenter before sitting in the empty chair beside her.

Gladys Carpenter is one of the best doctors to ever practice obstetrics and gynecology at Baxter Medical Center.

Working alongside her has been one of the most extraordinary things in my career, because Dr. Carpenter ensures she supervises and teaches me.

It’s one of the reasons I’ve been working in the baby department for so long, but I’ll deny it if anyone asks me because I want to keep Dr. Carpenter to myself.

If others knew how thorough she was, they’d be trying to be a part of her team, and I can’t have that.

“Bigheaded much?” Dr. Carpenter smirks with her left brow hiking before returning to the monitor she’s watching.

“Mhm. Mama said it ripped her from the rooter to the tooter when I was born,” I reply, causing Dr. Carpenter to laugh while covering her mouth.

“You’re a mess, Dr. Malone.”

A warm smile upturns my lips at the moniker Dr. Carpenter has been calling me since I first worked with her. No matter how many times I tell her it doesn’t fit, she waves me off and continues calling me the unfitting name.

“How many babies are we expecting today?” I ask.

“Chile, only God knows. We have about a dozen women here, but some might need to go home if nothing happens within the next few hours.”

“Hm. Do any of them need anything I can provide?”

“Maybe. Check on Ms. Cline in room 229. She might benefit from your charms since her child’s father is MIA.”

Shaking my head, I stand, tap Dr. Carpenter on her shoulder, and head toward the room where Ms. Cline is laboring.

Dr. Carpenter says this isn’t Ms. Cline’s first or second rodeo.

It’s also not the first time I’ll be meeting Ms. Cline, because she was here two nights ago experiencing Braxton Hicks, and we had to send her home.

I met the child’s father when he rushed the nurses to discharge Ms. Cline because WrestleMania was on, and he was missing it.

To know his ass chose to not show up with Ms. Cline pisses me off.

“I see you’re back. Will today be the day?” I ask Ms. Cline after entering her room five minutes later.

“I hope so. I’m tired of being pregnant. This baby is stubborn, just like his daddy.” Ms. Cline’s voice is raspy, and her face is beet red with exhaustion shining within her eyes.

“Alright. Let me check you and see if he’s tired of keeping you waiting.” Pulling a pair of latex gloves from the box, I head to the foot of the bed to check her cervix for dilation.