I’m on my way to Wendy’s to get my nails done. She’d texted me the day before telling me to come early since she has plans later and I’m determined to keep that appointment, to prove tomyself and Nickoi that I can do this. The engine hums beneath me, my hands steady on the wheel. But then my phone rings and a horn blares aggressively behind me. My whole body jumps and my foot slams the brake hard.
“Jesus Christ!” I hiss, heart pounding, fingers gripping the wheel tighter.
I’m not even buckled up. If Nickoi finds out, I’d never hear the end of it. I pull over, take a deep breath, and reach for my phone. Clova is calling. I dial Clova’s number and she answers on the second ring. I exhale hard, trying to slow down my heartbeat. I’m still shaken.
What if mi did mash the brakes too hard and end up inna somebody bumper?
Yuh nuh listen, Zara.
“Hey Zara baby, mi know mi tell yuh 10:00 but yuh can come fi 12:00 instead please,” she says, voice light but rushed. “Mi just memba mi have one more client.”
“Clova, that alright man,” I tell her, trying to sound calm even though my nerves are still jumpy.
“Alright… how yuh a dweet again?” she asks.
“Mi want it short,” I say, already picturing the style in my head. “We’ll decide the rest when mi come.”
“Alright baby tomorrow den,” she says sweetly before hanging up.
I watch the road ahead for a moment, then slowly ease off the brake. This time, I’m more than focused, eyes locked, back straight, both hands firm on the wheel.
Yuh nah mash up yuhself and Nick Pitney fi foolishness. Keep yuh eyes pon the road.
I pull into Wendy’s driveway a few minutes later, still feeling a little tight in the chest. Mi still frighten enuh.Hush now,Iwhisper to myself. Stop dwell pan it. As if on cue, Wendy steps outside with a bright smile, her face lighting up the yard.
“Watch the top gyal!” she calls, stepping aside so I can come in.
I let out a soft chuckle and walk up the stairs. “Good morning, Wendy,” I greet her, and she swings the grill door open with a grin.
Inside, the scent of fried plantain hits me like a blessing.
Lawd. Love yuh belly so?
“Mi a mek breakfast fi me and yuh,” she says, already turning toward the kitchen.
Dat a wah mi love fi hear! “Yes!” I beam, kicking off my slides and stepping in behind her. What’s with me and plantain these days?
Pregnancy, girl.
I settle into the living room, right where she set up her nail station. The TV’s on some old Disney movie playing:How to Build a Better Boy. Classic.
“Mi love this,” I laugh.
Wendy peeks out the kitchen. “Mi used to watch it every day,” she says, and I laugh again.
We chatter ‘bout the movie until she pauses. “Yuh want egg and plantain?”
“Thanks, but no eggs,” I reply, feeling my belly already gearing up.
My phone vibrates on the table. It’s Nickoi. I swipe it up and answer. “Yuh reach?” he asks, voice calm but smoky, probably lighting up a spliff.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I tell him.
“Arite, Mami. Do yuh thing,” he says.
“I love you… by—later.” I say, remembering that he hated ‘bye.’
“I love you too,” he says before I hang up.
