Baby Momma 2 Read Online Free Page A

trusted.
    â€œGirl, what da fuck you ova’ there doin’?” I asked playfully as soon as she picked up. I was jus’ glad she ain’t let me go to voice mail. When we left Virginia, Michelle insisted we cut everyone off, but I couldn’t let my entire family jus’ think I’d off and died or disappeared. My cousin, Shanice, was the only person I trusted enough to still keep in contact with.
    â€œHey, boobie, I miss yo’ li’l crazy ass. You lovin’ dat married life yet?” She was being sarcastic as usual. She always was a smart ass.
    â€œI don’t even wanna go into the details. I think she seein’ that muthafucka again or a new somebody. I ain’t figured it out yet, but when I do it’s gon’ be on.”
    â€œLarissa, you ain’t marry dat bitch jus’ to have her doin’ all the same shit. Check her ass, fo’ I come out there an’ check her for you. Paper or no paper all that extra shit ain’t worth it.”
    I sighed into the phone; she had a point. It wasn’t worth it and I knew it. After all of these years of loving Michelle and only Michelle it was finally starting to break me down. It’s like how they say a tiny stream of water can eventually wear down a mountain until there’s nothing left but a flat piece of land and a river. Well my love at one point was that mountain but all these doubts and fears been wearin’ and tearin’ away at that mountain for so long that we were on the verge of bein’ completely torn apart and wiped away.
    â€œShanice, you’ve known me my entire life. I think this the longest my ass eva’ been straight-up, flat-out sober. Hell, I don’t even drink like that no more. The stress an’ these kids, all this shit is startin’ to get to me.”
    â€œBitch, a blunt ain’t neva’ hurt shit. My ass ain’t neva’ heard of a mu’fucka bitin’ nobody face off ’cause they was smokin’ on some purp’.” She was talkin’ ’bout the recent drug shit that’d happened down in Miami. Niggas snortin’ bath salts or whatever and eatin’ other nigga’s faces and brains while the nigga was still alive on some for real zombie-type shit.
    â€œGirl, I tried to tell Michelle we need to get our asses the fuck up outta here before da Zombie Apocalypse start, an dat heffa told me stop watchin’ da damn horror channel. You an’ me bof know—don’t no black folk do no shit like that, an’ especially not off no damn weed. Hell, you don’t even do nothin’ close to that off a bad crack rock.”
    â€œTrue, bitch, that is so got-damn true, ” Shanice yelled in my ear in agreement and we both fell out laughin’.
    Most of my life I’d had a problem with various drugs from crack to cocaine, you name it. Michelle was on some warden-type shit right now. I could barely sniff a glass of wine without her looking at me sideways, getting all weary and talkin’ to me in her “house nigga” voice. I could hear saying, “Look nah, Risi-cup, you done made it dis far now, an’ ya knows what dey says ’bout stayin’ strong an’ takin’ one day at a time.”
    Ugh.
    â€œYou ever grow that Chia Pet I sent yo’ ass?” Shanice was gigglin’ in the phone like a straight-up little girl.
    â€œGirl, what da hell I’ma do wit’ a damn . . .” I stopped, realizing what she was saying before I could even finish my sentence. “Shanice, you didn’t.”
    â€œYup. Dat last package I sent you. Li’l Mr. Ch-Ch-Ch-Chia had a present inside his ass. I hope yo’ ass ain’t throw him away.”
    I didn’t think I’d felt this damn happy the entire time I’d been in Florida. I’d gone to the post office one day and set myself up a post office box so I could have things shipped without my “warden” all