Page 300 of Kentrell

“Miss Johnson?” She stood up too, giving me a look. “Call me Shaniece.”

“I… can’t do that.” I shook my head quickly. “It feels too disrespectful.”

“How? Girl, you not with my son no more.”

She didn’t say it to hurt me… I could hear the tease in her tone… but it still stung hearing it out loud like that.

“Oh wow… you just gon’ throw that back in my face?” I put a hand on my hip, feigning offense as she burst out laughing.

“Yes indeed… the reality check you need.” She nodded, making me smirk. “You can call me Shaniece. And when y’all get back together… you can call me whatever feels right.” She waved her hand like she was already making room for all the possibilities. “Miss Shaniece… Mama Johnson… wait, hold up—that’s too much like my mama. Uh… Jellybean… Beanie?—”

“Beanie?” I repeated, the name sticking in my brain like I’d heard it somewhere before.

“Yeah… short for Jellybean.” She kept right on talking, completely unaware of the mental database search I was doing in my head trying to place it. “My sister and my girlfriends used to call me that, really… but you can if you want to too.”

My mama!

The realization hit me hard and fast. That’s where I’d heard it. From her. From my mother. My heart skipped, but before I could sit in the thought too long, Jellybean’s voice cut right back into my focus.

“But that’s only when you and my son get back together.” Her words landed like a playful threat… soft but firm.

I blinked, still trying to catch up, but didn’t have time before she opened her arms and said, “Gimme a hug, Zoe.”

Without thinking, I stepped right into it… and melted a little when she squeezed me tight and dragged out an “Ohhhh…” like this hug meant just as much to her as it did to me.

“Go getchu some greens, girl… feed that belly.” She pulled back and let her hand brush right over my stomach.

And that… that’s when my whole body flinched—not from the contact… but from the sudden reminder that she was touching the exact spot her grandchild was baking in. My stomach flipped so hard I thought I might pass out on the spot.

“You okay?” she asked, brows pulling together as she caught my shift in energy.

“Yes, ma’am… and thank you. For not only meeting with me… but listening to me.”

“Anytime, babygirl… I’m here.” She waved her hand like it was nothing. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere till—whatchu say? February? March at the latest?” She repeated my predicted timeframe with a smile like she was already counting down the days.

I smiled back and nodded. “March at the latest.”

“A’ight now… I’ma hold you to it, Miss Zoe.”

“You can… Shaniece,” I said, using the name she’d given me. She tossed her head back laughing, like I’d just passed some unspoken test.

I made my way to the door, knocking twice to alert the guard. And even as I stood there waiting, I couldn’t contain the bubbling in my spirit or the smile stretching across my face. Something had shifted in me during this meeting… something restored. Some piece of myself I didn’t even realize I’d lost. And as I stood there, more determined than ever… one thing became crystal clear.

It was time to set some things straight.

Especially with Mr. Kentrell‘Cocky’Caldwell.

By the timeI got back to Mars’ place, my head was pounding, my stomach was acting stupid, and my heart was still wavering from the visit with Shaniece. I wanted peace. A nap. Maybe some ginger ale and bad reality TV. What I got… was an ambush.

The second I unlocked the door and stepped inside, I saw them—Mars, Stacia, and Ayesha—all posted up in the living room like they’d been waiting on me. Mars had herarms crossed, Stacia was sitting pretty with her legs tucked underneath her, and Ayesha hadthatlook. The one she gets when she knows something I don’t and can’t wait to use it against me.

I froze in the doorway. “Why are all of y’all here?”

Mars grinned, all teeth and no mercy. “Girl… getcho ass in this damn house… coming in here this damn late.” She pinched her lips together when she spoke, sending the rest of us into instant laughter. Stacia cracked up first, then Ayesha snorted.

“It’s…” I paused, glancing down at my left wrist.

The gold, emerald-face watch Kentrell bought me the first time he took me shopping stared back at me like it had something to say too. My heart thumped harder as I tore my eyes away and looked back at them. “It’s 5:29,” I sighed, stepping further into the living room and dropping my purse and briefcase onto the table.

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