December 5, 2019
"I've been sober for damn near two years. That shouldn't be an issue anymore. I need joint custody of my goddamn son, Guerra." Frustratedly, she was sitting on the leather interior of the blacked out Suburban with her phone pressed to her right ear. She's on the way to a studio in L.A. talking with her custody lawyer about gaining joint custody of Cruz. Since she and Dave's last encounter with one another, he's of course being dragging the battle along out of spite. "We can split our time down the middle. He's in school now. So, I'm compromising with Friday through Sunday. What is the no one understanding?"
"I'm understanding you totally," her attorneys feminine voice uttered through the line. "But it's his team dragging this along longer than need be."
"I'm off pills, I have my own spot in California. I followed my supervised visits. Exactly what the judge wanted me to do. So, why is it fair he can take away the weekends he let me have whenever he wants to?"
"Weekends he gave you that were not court ordered. He done that from some ounce of kindness in his heart—"
"No, because I was fucking him," she truthfully blurted. "And since I'm not anymore, he's hurt and acting like a whole-ass bitch."
"Well, that, too." Guerra added, "There need to be no more of that. I get you guys are having second child together and have to communicate for the sake of your sons, but nothin that he can use against you during this custody battle. Keep it cute. No popping up in Jersey causing havoc. It will only affect you in the long run. Okay, jeopardizing this?"
"Understood."
Shantey pressed her ombré coffin shape thumb nail on round red button to end their long-lasting phone call. When the Suburban pulled in front of the studio, Sino stepped out of the truck first and opened her door. With the help of his hand, her cocaine white Air Force Ones touched the sidewalk. She paired the shoes with one of Tavon's clothing line Tuff Crowd sweatshirts and Nike Sportswear Essential Fleece pants.
"Everything good?" Sino inquired, as they both walked into building.
". . . Dealing with him will always be difficult in some way, shape, or form. But I'm actually going to listen to Guerra and stay in my corner while he stay in his. I'm not doing anything to jeopardize joint custody of my son."
"And don't," Sino pressed the top button for elevator and doors separate apart seconds after. They walked on as she pressed the floor. "You deserve joint custody."
"Damn right, I do." Shantey says just as the doors shut together.
When she finally walked into the assigned studio, an uptempo beat catches her ears and resulted in her to bob her head up and down from the catchy beat. Her eyes landed on Grammy award winning singer-songwriter, Eric Bellinger. With a cup in his hand, he bobbed his head from side to side, feeling the beat wholeheartedly...
"Eric B!" Shantey called out with a smile, attracting his attention over the music. He looked in her direction; a grin stretching across his lips. He tapped the producer at the soundboard to cut off the music, which he does immediately.
"Shantey Ledé!" Eric greeted her with a brotherly hug. It lasted for a brief moment before he pulled back and rubbed over her stomach. "Look at you, man. You finna pop in a minute."
"Whew, please, I cannot wait. We only waiting on March."
"Watch him come out quick."
"I hope. How's the family? Lamyia? Elysha? Eazy?" She asked mentioning Eric's wife and son's.
"They good, man. Runnin' me raggedy, but I ain't complainin."
"Boutta say, let me make a phone call to Lamyia right quick." They both laughed.
"How yo son's? I saw that shit on the blogs bout Ro. Glad that's cleared up."
"Clearing that up was happening regardless. We not doin that when it come to mine. Period."
"Facts," he nodded in agreement.
"But they good. Growing up on me right before my eyes."
"Shit flyin' by quick," he snapped his fingers for more emphasis. "That's why I'm glad I got in touch wit you. Me and you been 'posed to write som' shit together. It's go time."
"I'm down. Let's do it."
"Play dat beat Damien." Eric spoke to the music producer.
Once again the uptempo instrumental played around the studio.
. . .
. . .
An hour and a half of Shantey and Eric putting their creative minds together, the musicians created everything needed for ones song; a chorus and verses. Only thing missing to be added is Shantey's undoubtedly beautiful, goosebump causing vocals. "Just let the beat play for a minute; give people the feeling of it then boom, you come in wit I feel amazing while you feel indifferent," he vocalized shortly. "You get what I'm sayin?"
Shantey nodded, "of course. Let me get in this booth and show I ain't lost my flavor."
"Show me then."
Shantey was in with booth with the headphones over her head. She practically mental noted every lyric they jotted down and on her cue, she sang with her eyes closed.
I feel amazing while you feel indifferent
Say you ain't tripping, if not, then what is it?
I'm doing me and that's making you livid
You talking shit just to get my attention
You only wanna have it how you want it
But if I was missing, you gon' miss it all
Now, you ain't with it, but in the beginning
You was my hitta, my go-to
When you need someone to call, I'll be right there (Right there)
When you flip that script up on me, it's not fair (Not fair). . . (..)
Her eyelids opened and her orbs landed on Eric through the window, who applauded her on the other end. She snickered and removed the headphones, walking out of the booth. She dusted her shoulders off cockily before requesting playback to hear her vocals. She sung along the whole time as Eric moved around, bobbing his head with the brightest grin on his face...
"Man," he shook his head smiling, "proof in the mufucking pudding."
"Yes it is."
"I feel like I've been eating all day." Shantey groaned. She occupied the home theater with Romeo, a half-eaten box of pizza and hot wings was placed in front of them along with drinks and snacks. After leaving the studio, Shantey wanted to spend some time with her son for a few hours before he had to return home for school the next day. She chopped down on the food in her mouth as Romeo's phone buzzed out of control with the light flashing. She looked in his direction as he typed his thumb on his phone. "You must gotta girlfriend or something? You're blowing up."
"Maybe," he smirked, locking his device when responding back.
"Oh my— wayment. . . do you have a girlfriend?"
"We're not official—"
"Pause, is she white?" She questioned cutting him off. "I mean, if that's what you like, Mommy is, uh, fine with that. I know at your new school it's more there than Black girls."
"She's not white, Mom." Romeo enlightened, "she's black."
"Okay... how old?"
"Fourteen."
"High school huh?" She nodded, "Your Dad know about her?"
"Yeah, I told him."
"But just now telling me?"
"Mom, it's easier talking to Dad about girls. We're both men."
"I still would've liked to know, but I understand." She nodded, "as long as she's good to you, it's all that matters. I don't wanna have to slap her Momma."
Romeo chuckled, and shook his head. "We don't need that."
"Have you spoken to your auntie?" Shantey inquired about Amanda.
"Nope, I thought you have."
"Hm," she hummed knowing she has to talk to Amanda because something was clearly going on.
She looked at the time on her phone seeing the clock strike ten-thirty. "Alright, let's get you home. It's almost eleven and you have to get to bed."
Romeo nodded, as he jumped up from the floor and pulling up his pants. "You relax. I'm going to put this food in the fridge before we leave."
Shantey nod her head as he carried the one box to the fridge and wrapped the snacks away. A pair of Chanel slides on her feet and car keys in her hand, she waited on her son in the foyer. When he comes out they both gather in her Mercedes Benz AG and heading to Tavon's residence. Tavon is already outside when they pulled into the driveway since he ran outside to grab something from his car. The headlights beamed on him as he closed the door to his car and walked towards her vehicle with no shirt and jogger pants.
"Waddup, boy?" Tavon voiced as Romeo opened the passenger door.
"Sup, Dad."
"Shower, bed. Get 'er done."
"Good night, Mom." He leaned over, kissing her cheek.
"Night, Papa."
Romeo stepped out of vehicle as Tavon claimed his spot in the passenger seat. Before he could open his mouth to speak, Shantey uttered, "Get out my car."
"I see you still gotta attitude."
"Aren't you the one that didn't want to talk about shit unless it's about Romeo?" She looked at him, "We're about to enforce that right now."
"Damn," he laughed, "you that mad about me having a girlfriend? Shantey, you cheated on me. And got pregnant. Whatchu want me to do? Wait for yo baby to drop with same mufucka you cheated with? That would be dumb on my part."
"Tae. . . I don't care. Get outta my car and go call your girlfriend or sumthin. And she's not meeting my son."
Tavon chuckled and shook his head, "you're real childish."
"You'll see childish when if I hear she been around him, slob." Shantey reached over the center console, shutting the passenger door in his face before quickly backing out the driveway.
When she returned back home, a bedroom light upstairs is on. Shantey trudged up the stairwell with her hand rubbing her stomach. She reached the bedroom Amanda accompanied and watched her search for something in the dresser across from her bed.
"You've been missing in action," she voiced making Amanda look at her through the mirror.
"Y-yeah, uh. . . I've been busy with the music. Keeping focus."
"One thing I know; you cannot lie to me." Shantey reminded her, leaning against the doorframe. "Sumthin is going on. I don't know why you're hiding it from me, but you are. And— that's okay. You're a grown woman and I get you wanna handle whatever alone."
"Thank you for letting me do it alone."
"But. . . you know me, Amanda, I'm very adamant about finding things out especially when it involves my family. And you're my family."
"Just— please, Shantey. ."
"Okay," she raises her hands.
Amanda phone start ringing just as Shantey's dinged from notifications. Amanda looked at the caller on her screen, declining the call immediately and looked at her best friend, who stared at her phone with screwed eyebrows.
"What is it?"
"I knew it was something when that conniving bitch called me."
"Whooo? What?" Amanda bombarded questions as she stood beside Shantey, scanning over the recent blog headline:
Shantey Ledé's mother and sister are set to appear on a two part episode of Iyanla: Fix My Life.