Page 123 of Anything Necessary for Her
The few moms I had met—ones of niggas who saw a future with me that would never come to fruition—were polite, welcoming, and had sense. I’d never met a mother like this and of a man I loved. Why couldn’t she have been Trayvon’s mama?
“Oh please. Heshouldbe caring for us with his sad, pathetic ass.” She scoffed, waving me off as she dug into her carton of cigarettes.
This was gonna be difficult.
“And what exactly areyou, Whitney?” I gave her a fake smile when she whipped her head in my direction.
“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t try to help you when you become his neglected baby mother, sitting up all night waiting for his prison calls or having to show your child photos of him ’cause he’s dead.” She laughed morbidly.
Shelaughedat the thought of her own child being dead or in prison.
For a moment, I just stared at her in disbelief and gratitude that I didn’t grow up with a mother like her. I didn’t know what it was like to have a mom who wasn’t my biggest cheerleader andwouldn’t sacrifice herself or her own needs to be sure mine were met. I felt bad for Low, something I knew he wouldn’t want. He hated sympathy.
“I think I’ll leave being a baby mama to trash niggas toyou, Whitney. Seems you got that covered three times over,” I retorted, making her jaw drop as she sized me up again.
I knew that look. She thought I would be sweet, nice, and easily ran off. The bitch didn’t know she’d be assaulted verbally. And though she deserved it, I hated speaking to someone’s mother in this way.
Just as she was about to respond, Low returned, his smile faltering at the sight of his mom on the couch.
“Low! Look who’s back!” Waverley darted from the kitchen, still excited for her mom to be home even after she’d talked to her rudely.
“What you doing here?” His eyes kept bouncing between her and me, and I could tell by his taut body language that he didn’t like that we’d met without him.
I gave him a soft smile, realizing he was trying to get a read on my energy and if things had gone left in his absence.
“The rehab stint is over, and I stayed the whole time.” She started to light the cigarette, but Low snatched it.
“You can’t smoke in here.”
Whitney paused, tongue pushing into her cheek as she shook her head as if she were fed up.
“Well, since we’re laying some ground rules,” she ascended, “I want this little girl gone.” She pointed to me, and I watched Low become visibly let down at the fact that she didn’t like me and that the feelings were probably mutual.
“This my house and that’s my girl. She not going nowhere,” he answered dryly, watching Waverley for a brief moment as she came to sit on the floor, smiling at her tutus again.
“I don’t want her where I live!” Whitney pouted.
“Then you can dip.”
Stepping back out of shock, she quickly recovered before saying, “Then my kids are coming with me!”
“No!” Waverley screamed in response.
“Shut up!” Her mother roared at her, silencing the little girl instantly before turning her attention back on Low.
“They ain’t going nowhere.”
“Oh, that’s what you think?” She laughed derisively before spinning around and snatching Waverley up by her arm.
“Ouch! Stop!” Waverley cried out, causing her mother to slap her across the face.
“Aye!” Low advanced over to pry his baby sister’s arm from their mother as Waverley wailed.
Quicker than expected, Whitney snatched up a glass ashtray and clocked Low across the face with it, enraging me.
Before I could even process my emotions, thoughts, or moves, I was on his mama’s ass like white on rice. We tumbled to the carpeted floor as I pummeled her with my fists, angry for Waverley and my man.
After a good four, bloody punches, Low snatched me from off his mama who had clawed my chest up good to the point where a burning sensation had taken flight.
