Page 19 of Our Mother's Sons

“Lady I don’t give no fuuuuck because I’m not too impressed by your ass either. The way I see this shit, we even, mother dearest.”

Giving Girl and me one last look, she shook her head.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” I repeated.

“When can I take you out to dinner, son?”

That son shit rubbed me the wrong way and was the perfect wrap up to this unwanted visit that I needed.

“Ion know. Ion got a babysitter.”

“What about your grandmother?”

Stepping back, I held the door in my hands.

“Joanna raised her kid and yours, too. She ain’t got time to raise no more. Bye, Melissa.”

With that, I closed the door and peered down at Girl. I’d ordered groceries, and the Italian part of me wanted some pasta, so that’s what I was cooking.

“Aye.”

Girl looked up at me with those doe eyes.

“Stop being so fucking nice. That’s how yo friendly ass got put in the human trafficking ring the first time.”

As if she understood me, Girl nodded her big ass head once. That was good enough for me, so we headed to the kitchen to start our food.

Chapter7

Voyage Ridley

My shift had ended, and I couldn’t be happier. Being the store manager, I mostly opened the store, but there were rare occasions when I closed it. Thankfully, today wasn’t one of them. The shift manager, Ivey, was due to close today, and I spotted her locks of auburn hair before she walked into the store.

“Hi, boss! I’m sorry I’m late, but traffic was crazy!”

Smiling, I waved at Ivey as I added change to both registers. I had two cashiers on duty, and while one was in the bathroom, the other was flirting with the barista boy in the coffee shop that sat on an elevated platform in the middle of the store. We were slow today; it was the first slow day in weeks. The workers were taking advantage of the downtime, and since the store was clean and stocked, I didn’t have an issue with them chilling.

“Girl, you’re good. You’re only three minutes late, and we have a fifteen-minute grace period. Take your time.”

I had no plans to be dragged across town with my cousin today, and I was happy about that. However, I’d been glad to be busy working and hanging with Baela. It kept my mind occupied, out of my feelings, and out of bed. There were some days when I had to sleep all day because my heart, mind, and body were so tired, but today wasn’t one of them. I was happy to be off early, but wasn’t ready to go home yet. So, an hour ago I made reservations at a restaurant and I would enjoy my meal solo.

Ivey ignored everything I said about taking her time because I could see her orange floral dress floating in the air as she put her white Chuck Taylors to work by running to the employee lounge.

Reader’s Paradise was one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever worked. The owner had put some money into this store. Not only did it have three floors, but it also had a rooftop that had a seasonal bar that served some of the best cocktails and finger foods. Being up there with a book, a drink, and the ocean view was indescribable. I’d only ever indulged when I wasn’t employed here, but as soon as I got the job, I didn’t even look up at the rooftop. I wouldn’t be losing my job for being accused of drinking on the clock, and on my off days, I didn’t come this way.

This store was the ultimate bookstore and had the perfect name. The theme resembled that of a tropical rainforest with imitation trees and shrubbery. There was even a spot on the second floor called the den, which was dark and made it feel like you were in a rock cave. That was the reader’s favorite place. It was where I spent my lunch breaks, and what made it even better is that it was where the black author sections were. At first I felt some type of way that the African American literature wasn’t at the head of the store since it lead in sales but when I noticed how most people came in the store and got straight on the escalators to the second floor, I held off on putting a complaint in to the district manager. Working in the bookstore and running it made my chest swell with pride, seeing how social media was now pushing books. It made me even prouder that many black authors had been able to make a living by writing. I still wanted more black women on the shelves because many of my favorite authors weren’t even in stores, let alone ours. I didn’t know how to change that, but I made it a point to look into it.

When Ivey shooed me off, I checked on my employees one last time before heading to the back office for my belongings. I always made sure I was cute at work, even on days I didn’t want to change from my pajamas, and though we didn’t have a dress code, I mostly wore long dresses and skirts. Today, it was hot as hell outside, and since I hadn’t planned on going home after, I wore a mid-thigh dress. The skater style pale pink and cream striped dress was tan and fitted at my waist before flaring out. Since it was sleeveless and on the short side, I paired it with a long, thin cardigan and gold Nine West sandals that were comfortable enough to withstand an eight-hour shift. As soon as I left the store, I removed the covering and walked to my car. I was proud of my three-year-old Hyundai. She was silver, still had the new car smell, and the payments didn’t break the bank. I even had a sunroof; I instantly let it back when I started my car. The air-conditioning cooled me simultaneously as I pulled the visor down to check my face.

My makeup hadn't moved even after a long shift, mainly because we were slow. I’d been known to break out in a sweat or push my curly hair out of my forehead one too many times, wiping my makeup off. But ever since being caught lacking, I have made an effort to beat my face daily.

Twin was fine as shit. The fact that he was a twin was unfair as fuck. I’d never wanted to be trained a day in my life before seeing those men side by side. I didn’t even know his damn name but was ready to sit on it. It was something so sexy about a man standing gapped leg in the middle of the mall while counting off money for a lady to get what the fuck she wants. I wanted to jump his damn bones right there in front of the thirsty ass worker and my cousin. Baela hadn’t let up with the questions about him. But I didn’t have anything for her. He hadn’t called, and neither had I. I learned my lesson from chasing my last nigga and look at how that shit panned out for me. He had my number; if he wanted to use it, he would.

Fluffing my coarse curls, I reached into my bag and applied more lipstick. I’d used a new concealer and liquid blush when applying my makeup, and I was loving it. I was always skeptical about new products because I didn’t know how they would hold up in the dewy, damp, and humid Florida weather. Granted, I hadn’t been outside, but with how much setting spray I applied, I was confident it would last. Flipping the visor up, I pulled on my seatbelt and drove into traffic. Not only was it a pretty day, but I’d gotten paid and still had three thousand dollars left over from the money he’d given me. I paid my rent twice. Once with the money he gave, and another with my check, I was a month ahead. I would do the same with my car note, but since I’d never done it before, I wanted to research and see if paying on the principal over paying another note was best. He’d given me six thousand dollars, which still had me geeked. I swear, my pussy hadn’t dried up since I received that money and that was a week ago.

I had lunch reservations at a restaurant I’d been seeing all over TikTok. Jonah’s was a sexy ass bar with an upper echelon feel to it and according to the reviews I’ve seen, it was always packed and the food and drinks were indication as to why. It was on the other side of town and would take me over twenty minutes, but I took that drive with a smile. Baela was going to kick my ass when she found out I’d left her. But she was on one of her ten-day runs. My girl claimed that since I didn’t like hanging with her, she had nothing else to do but work. My cousin sure knew how to make me feel bad. No matter how tired I was, I was bringing her to Jonah’s on her next off day, even if I had to work.

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