Page 7 of Mahogany 2
“Hey, hey, hey!” Duke shouted, shutting the both of them up before it could be a shouting match. “Let mommy open her gifts the way she wants to. Aubry, she’ll get to yours when she gets to it, if she wants to wait.”
“Spark, baby, hand me the big one from all of you,” I told her, both overwhelmed and overjoyed.
I didn’t expect my day to go like this.
None of it. From cutting a deal with both Judah and Armani suit, to walking into the house to this. Duke popping up at my job wasn’t that much of a surprise. Annoying and disrespectful, hell yeah but very Duke coded. When he felt me slipping through his fingers was the only time he applied pressure. As pissed off as I was with him, this was a very nice surprise. Almost made me regret missing the party last night.
Sparkle sat the bag on my lap and before I could dig in, Gabe said, “Dad got you a?—“
“Really?” I interrupted with wide eyes.
He laughed with his hands up. “I was just going to say he got you a really nice gift, ma, dang.”
With a squint, I twisted my lips up. “Mmhmm.”
Gabriel played a lot. Too much sometimes. He knew how I was about surprises—I loved them. So, I wasn’t caught off guard by him trying to prank me into thinking he’d ruin it for me. I wasn’t taking any chances though. Couldn’t with his petty ass. He was so much like my baby sister that it was unsettling sometimes. How I could have my sister's child was baffling to me. She was the same way. An unfiltered asshole that played entirely too much.
I rummaged through the bag before I even took my shoes off. After tossing the tissue paper aside, I retrieved a happy birthdaycard. When I opened it, two gift cards fell into my lap. One for a spa day, and another for Delta Airlines. Once I saw that there was a handwritten message from all three of them in it, I gave them looks of gratitude with tears in my eyes.
Sparkle’s was nothing more than chicken scratch. Looked like somebody had held her hand, guiding her to write ‘Happy birthday mommy, I love you.’ Gabriel’s was short and simple: Happy birthday Queen, I love you. Honesty’s was the same way, except she called me the best mother in the whole wide world. Aubry’s was very much teenaged girl coded:‘Happy thirty-fourth birthday to the baddest that don’t look a day over twenty-five. I love you bestie!’I giggled and shook my head, as I moved on to Duke’s little message. Well… it wasn’t a little message. It was long and took up the most space.Happiest birthday to the best wife a man could ever ask for. I’m very grateful to have met you all of those years ago. A nigga for sure hit the jackpot with that one. I hope you know how much of a blessing its been for me to experience nineteen birthdays with you, watchin you grow into the beautiful hardworkin woman you are. I love you NeNe. To many more!
By the time I got to the end of his message, my face was drenched with tears. I looked up at him, smiled, and told him I loved him too before telling the kids the same. I meant it. I did love Duke. I loved him more than I both cared to admit and expressed. The type of love that made my heart ache for more reasons than one. But today… after he’d just pissed me the fuck off… it ached because I loved him so much and we were… it was rocky. Loving someone through the tough times hurt like hell.
With a sigh, I reached inside of the box and gasped at the orange box.
“I know you fuckin’ lyin!” I yelled. “Duke?—”
“Mannn,” he said with a laugh. “Gon and open the box, woman.”
“How did you?—”
“Didn’t I just tell you to open the box?” He interrupted, wearing a smirk.
“Open it! Open it!” Honesty cheered, egging Sparkle on.
I was too overwhelmed to open it. An orange box… my first orange box. Probably the only orange box I would ever get. I stared up at Duke with tears running from my eyes, and my head tilted over to the side. A Birkin. He made good ass money. We had a nice amount of money saved up, as well as retirement plans and such but a Birkin? It was too much. I—I was speechless.
“If you don’t open it, I will sis,” Aubry said with her hands out.
“You deserve it,” Duke said with a head nod, reading my mind.
Did I think I deserved nice things? Of course. But a bag that cost five figures? Come on now. We had four kids, a mortgage and car notes. Shit, I could easily think of five places five figures could’ve gone. But! I was grateful. Immensely. Because if Duke got me a Birkin he didn’t just go out and grab it—he saved for it. He was like that. A planner. Thoughtful and very observant. A Birkin bag had been on my vision board for the last three years.
Finally, I took a deep breath and undid the black ribbon to open the box. Aubry, with her phone out recording, wore the biggest smile. She knew what a Birkin was—the other three? Not so much.
I cut my eyes at her. “Don’t think for one second you gon’ be taking my bag annnnywhere,” I warned, as I lifted the lid. “You can’t even touch it!”
“I’m already hip. I already know,” she said with a laugh. “I wouldn’t let you wear mine neither boo.”
We laughed and I reached into the duster bag to pull it out. I gasped, realizing that he didn’t just get me a Birkin—he got metheeBirkin. The one that’d been on my vision board. Black with gold hardware. It was breathtaking. He really did pay attention.
“Ducaaaati,” I cried with my bottom lip poked out.
What did he do earlier? Why was I mad at him, again? Suddenly, what and why didn’t seem as important. If I wasn’t joking, I would have led him straight upstairs to give him the best head he’d ever gotten in his life.
He walked over and planted a kiss on my forehead. “You deserve the fuckin world but I figured a Birkin would do, right?”
“Hell yeah!” I said, lifting my bag, examining it. “Nobody touches mommy’s bag, okay?”
