Page 95 of False Start
Nodding, I follow DreadPool out the door.
39
NIA
She waits for Harvey to leave before she moves or speaks. Once she hears the front door shut, her tongue clicks, and it’s almost like I’m in the room with my own mother. “Antônia,” she whispers, head shaking as she walks toward me.
Her voice is much kinder than my mother’s, though.
I let my gaze drift. I’m sitting in sweat-stained sheets, wearing one of Harvey’s shirts that are long enough to wrap my legs in. “Baby, why are you doing this to yourself?” The bed dips next to me as she sits down. I can’t stand her seeing me like this, so I turn away.
“You know why.” It’s a whisper.
I feel her hand smoothing down my hair. Despite my rolling, sweating, and writhing around, Harvey has somehow managed to keep my hair brushed and knot-free.
“You gonna make me take my kid toTitia Nia’sfuneral?” She uses the nickname I once gave myself the first time I held her baby—now a full grown kiddo of almost nine.
“I don’t know how to get out of this.” I finally own up to it.
“Kiddo, you just gotta tell me how deep you’ve dug this grave, and I’ll throw the rope down and pull you out.” Deandra says it like it’s so easy.
I turn to face her, shaking my head. “I don’t know anymore. It’s too dark to tell.”
“Oh.” She shrugs. “Well that’s easy then.” She brushes the sweat-drenched hair out of my face and leans down to whisper in my ear. “We can just make it up!”
The smile is autonomous and so are the tears, falling freely and dropping onto the pillow beneath my head. “Don’t let me turn you into my new mom, D. I’ll do it,” I groan, my entire body feeling like the peach forgotten at the bottom of the fruit basket.
Moldy.
Bruised.
Putrid.
Oh, how I shine.
“We all need mothered every now and then. If I remember correctly, yours was shit.” She chuckles under her breath before she presses her palm to my face. “I’ll baby bird you, sweetie. You want me to chew your food up for you? Open wide, bitch. I’ll do whatever it takes not to lose another friend.”
She means it. I see the look on her face so clearly for what it is.
Desperation.
She helps me take a sip of the iced electrolytes on the nightstand. “What?” I ask, her face still full of woe.
“You look like shit, girl. If you were my kid, I’d be losing it,” she says, shaking her head, and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel.
“Are you here to guilt trip me?” I ask, and the cackle she lets out is almost witch-like.
“Hell no. And I don’t feelthatbad for you either; you did this to yourself. I’m making sure Harvey doesn’t lose everything she’s worked for, and I’m making sure the Dames don’t lose even more.” Her expression sobers, and it nearly eats me alive.
“You’re just babysitting.” I don’t hide my annoyance.
She winks before standing again. “Except you’re not a baby, and I don’t need to be your mother to tell you what to do. I just need to love you, so get up, you stink.” Pulling her locs into a low ponytail and tying it with a thick band, she waits, but I don’t move.
She claps three times, startling me and forcing my fight or flight into action. I stand, holding myself like a new recruit waiting for the sergeant’s command.
D strips the sheets and pillowcases off the bed and balls them into a pile in her arm, brushing by me as she walks out of the room with them. “When’s the last time you showered?” she asks.
I wait until she’s in the room again so I don’t have to shout. Even shouting hurts. “I’m in the shower all the time.”
