Page 74 of Church Girl
Iopen the front door as Gia climbs the steps. Her usual cheery and loud demeanor is missing, replaced by a subdued frown. Well, the cheery and loud stopped when Aaliyah stopped being her nanny two weeks ago. And though she’s talked on the phone with Aaliyah several times, the frown has become customary on my baby girl’s face. And for that I feel like I’ve more than disappointed her; I’ve failed her. Because if I’d used my brain instead of my dick, Aaliyah would be here. That’s on me.
Falling for Aaliyah...that’s on me, too.
“Hey, baby girl.” I step out onto the porch. Guilt swarms in my chest but so do love and joy at having her back home. “Did you have a good day at school?”
“Yes.” She hugs me then asks, “Is Aaliyah back yet, Daddy?”
I swallow down a tired sigh. “No, baby. Remember we’ve talked about this. She’s not working for us anymore.”
Her shoulders droop like the weight of the world is pressing on them. And maybe for a seven-year-old it is. And that weight is the bullshit that belongs to the adults in that world.
“I remember, I was just hoping she came back. I’ve been praying that she will, but God’s moving so slow.”
In spite of the heaviness we both seem to bear, I softly laugh. “Well you know what Grammy’s always saying. He doesn’t come when you want Him but...”
“He’s right on time,” Gia finishes. “I just wish I knew what time He was coming,” she adds with a pout.
I hold back my bark of laughter, remove my phone from my pocket and pass it to her. “How ’bout you give her a call and see what she’s doing?”
That suggestion gets me a little smile, and she takes the phone. “Okay.”
I hold the door open for her, and she slides past me, her head already bent over the cell. I catch movement in my peripheral, and instead of following her inside the house, I glance over my shoulder. And frown.
Deliberately schooling my face so it doesn’t betray my anger and disgust, I call out to Gia. “Hey, G, I’ll be right in. I’ma talk to your mom real quick. Go ahead and get started on any homework you have after you get off the phone.”
“Okay, Daddy,” she replies, her voice coming from deep inside the house.
Still, not wanting her to accidently overhear anything that’s said between me and Sheree, I close the storm door and descend the short flight of steps to meet a smiling Sheree.
“Hey, Von. I’m surprised to see you here this time of day.”
Her voice is pleasant enough, but I’m not buying it. And I’m not having this fucking conversation, either. I haven’t hired anyone to replace Aaliyah yet, though I could’ve easily called the nanny agency again. I just can’t bring myself to do it. And with Sheree’s custody hearing still in the works, I’ve been home more. Not just to strengthen the case, but because these last few weeks have felt like I’m in a mental countdown. If her custody hearing goes left for me, I need to have as many stored-up memories with Gia as I can get.
But I’m not telling her none of this shit.
“What’re you doing here?” I cross my arms. “The agreement was your mother is supposed to be dropping Gia off from now on.”
I’d taken Ronald’s advice and arranged for an intermediary who would handle the custody exchanges. It didn’t used to be like this. Sheree and I could at least deal with each other for this part of the divorce. But now, that shit is dead.
Sheree shrugs, that smile still curving her mouth. “I told Mom I’d handle it today since I wanted to talk to you. This is silly, Von. We can handle pick-ups and drop-offs like adults.”
“Nah, we can’t. I’on trust you like that if we keeping it a buck.”
Oddly, she winces as if my honesty hurt her. Then again, I’ve come to learn Sheree is a fantastic actress. I give her a slow clap in my head.
“You make it sound like I’m standing here recording our conversation,” she mutters.
I just arch my eyebrow because hell no, I don’t put it past her. “What do you want, Sheree? And make it fast so I can get back in the house.”
“I just want us to be civil. For Gia’s sake.”
That’s got me seeing red. Gritting my teeth, I pinch the bridge of my nose, willing the rage to recede. At least enough so I can form words.
“Did you really just say ‘for Gia’s sake’?” I laugh, shaking my head at this silly bitch. “Sheree, get outta here with that. Sweetheart, ain’t none of the moves you’ve been making lately been for Gia’s sake. You don’t put her first when you run me down on the phone with your thot-ass sister so G can overhear. You don’t put her first when you come up to my shop starting shit. You for damn sure didn’t put her first when you filed this custody modification. Everything’s been about you. Don’t stand here thinking you gon’ play in my face.”
She glances away from me, but I see the ticking of a muscle at her jaw and wait for the hate that’s about to come out of her mouth. If Sheree knows how to do anything, it’s defend her indefensible actions.
“Gia told me that woman isn’t her nanny anymore,” she calmly says, returning her gaze to me.
