“I didn’t mean to disappoint you, Mama,” I say softly. “When the baby comes, you welcome anytime to meet your great-grandchild.”
She holds me, voice cracking. “You didn’t let me down Zara. Mi just worry you’re not ready, I feel like Nickoi is bringing you into a life you’re not ready for. But mi pray God protect yuh and the baby… and Nickoi.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, wiping my tears.
“I love you guys.” They echo back, “We love you.”
Nickoi stands outside, watching us. I touch his shoulder. “You ready?” I ask.
“Yah,” he nods. We exit, he holds me close.
“Nickoi,” a voice calls, making us both turn around. It’s Mama. She steps out of the house, her expression softer now, and walks right up to him. Without saying a word, she wraps her arms around him, and I can tell, he’s stunned.
“I’m sorry for my attitude,” she says quietly, rubbing my belly. “Keep safe, and take care of my granddaughter and the baby.”
Her eyes flick to me, and she smiles gently. “It’s gonna get bigger soon. Eat healthy, and expect me to stop by now and then to assist.” A smile breaks across my face.
“Thanks, Ms. Sandra,” Nickoi says, respectful as ever. She nods, her expression warm for the first time in a while.
“Drive safe, take care of my granddaughter,” she smiles widely. When we got in the car, I buckle in. My mind runs on my car.
“You a leave me car?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nuh worry bout that.” He looks at me, warm. “How yuh feel?”
“Relieved… exhausted.”
He smiles. “Alright,Mami.”
We drive in silence until he stops at PriceMart. He fills the cart with expensive yogurts, cereal, meats, snacks, fruits, veggies, everything.
I follow him down the aisles, watching as he tosses everything into the cart without asking me a thing. He doesn’t want my opinion. Apparently only he knew ‘Healthy’ food.
“Babe,” I call, and he pauses mid-step.
“Mami?” he says, glancing back at me.
“You don’t think that’s enough?” I gesture at the cart. It overflows like we’re a family of ten. This will last for a month for sure. He shakes his head. No words, just a simple ‘no’ like it ends the conversation.
I groan, dragging my feet behind him. “I’m tired of walking, babe.”
A woman nearby laughs under her breath, and I give her a weak smile.
Nickoi doesn’t slow down. He’s talking to a worker now, focused, unreadable. My eyes roam the aisle until—
“Bad man Frosted better than Cheerios,” a voice says behind me.
I turn.
Mark.
He freezes when he sees me, like I was the last person he expected to run into. “Mami, fawud,” Nickoi calls, voice calm, cool, commanding. I walk over. But I can hear them.
“A Ms. Williams dat?”
“A wah Meech dat enuh!”
I focus on Nickoi, but the friend doesn’t shut up. “A dat mek Jordane fight yuh fi har.”
