Treasure never rushed me off the phone. She listened in that quiet way that made me talk more than I planned to, and before I knew it, I was tellin’ her how scared I was, how I felt like somethin’ wasn’t right even though on the outside everything looked fine. I ain’t call it nothin’ by name. I ain’t say too much. I just told her about his moods, about how sometimes he be up and on fire and other times he feel distant or overwhelmed, about how he’ll be good for a while and then decide he don’t need help no more. I told her how I was losin’ sleep wonderin’ when the other shoe was gon’ drop. I wanted to tell her the truth about what was really goin’ on, but I ain’t wanna betray my husband by speakin’ on shit he hadn’t even spoken on himself.
She never told me I was wrong. She never told me I was right either. She just listened and then she would say shit that sat with me long after we hung up, shit like, “A woman knows her husband,” and “Sometimes love look like worry before it look like peace.”
After a few days of that, she asked me if I wanted to spend the day with her. It wasn’t in a stiff way or a formal way, but like she already knew I was gon’ say yes.
When I pulled up that mornin’, my stomach was in knots. I ain’t know what to expect and I felt outta place just standin’ there, like I was about to step into somebody else world that I ain’t earn yet. Treasure came outside before I could even knock, dressed light and comfortable, her hair wrapped in this simple scarf and her smile warm like sunshine.
“Come on, Toni,” she said, pullin’ me into a hug like she been waitin’ on me. “We got somewhere to be.”
She drove, and I rode quiet in the passenger seat, watchin’ how calm she was behind the wheel. The way she moved felt intentional without bein’ rushed, like she knew exactly where she was goin’ in life and didn’t need nobody to tell her she was doin’ it right. The car smelled like herbs and somethin’ sweet, and there was a bag in the backseat filled with shit I couldn’t even name.
She told me we was headin’ to a singer house, somebody famous, and somebody who trusted her enough to call her for all four of her babies. I ain’t say nothin’ but I felt that weight of it sit on my chest. This wasn’t just a job for Treasure. This was her purpose.
When we got there, the house was quiet but full at the same time. The woman was already in labor when we walked in, her husband right by her side with worry all over his face even though he was tryna be strong for her. Treasure greeted them soft, speakin’ to them like she was family, and like this wasn’t no moment to be scared of but somethin’ to honor.
She ain’t rush into nothin’. She checked on the mama, talked to her calm, rubbed her back, whispered things I couldn’t hear but could feel. I stood back like I was supposed to, handin’ her what she asked for, watchin’ how her hands moved like they knew exactly what to do before her mind even caught up.
She prayed over that woman like she was speakin’ straight to God and not askin’ for permission. It was powerful in a way that made my chest tighten and my eyes burn. She prayed for strength and safety and peace, and she spoke life over that baby like she already knew them.
Every time the woman cried out, Treasure was right there. She grounded her, talked her through it, reminded her that her body knew what to do. The husband looked at Treasure like she was the only thing holdin’ the room together, and honestly, she was.
When it was time, it happened fast and slow all at the same damn time. The baby came into the world and Treasure caught them like it was the most natural thing she ever done. She held that baby close, spoke over them, cleaned them off gentle like they was made of glass. She welcomed that child into the world with words that felt ancient and holy, words that felt older than money and fame and last names. The shit was wild.
I had tears runnin’ down my face and I ain’t even wipe them away. Watchin’ Kay’Lo mama do what she did made somethin’ click inside of me. I saw where his protectiveness came from, where his intensity came from, and where that deep love he carried lived. It was her. It was always her.
When it was over and the baby was placed on their mama chest, the room felt lighter, like everybody could finally breathe again. Treasure stepped back, gave them space, and nodded like her work was done even though I knew she left pieces of herself in that room.
Outside, I couldn’t hold it together no more. The tears came hard and fast, and before I could even apologize for cryin’, Treasure pulled me into her arms and held me like she already knew this moment was comin’.
She ain’t ask me what was wrong, and she didn’t tell me to be strong. She just held me and let me cry it out, like she was rockin’ that broken lil’ girl part of me that I don’t let nobody see.
“I see you, Toni,” she said soft, her hand rubbin’ my back. “And I see how much you love my son.”
That did it. I cried harder then, my body shakin’ ‘cause I felt seen in a way I never had before. I told her I was scared. I told her I felt like I was fightin’ alone. I told her I ain’t know how to protect my husband without losin’ him or my damn self.
She pulled back just enough to look me in my eyes. “You’re not alone,” she said. “And you’re not wrong for listenin’ to your spirit.”
She didn’t give me answers. She didn’t tell me what to do next. She just reminded me that love is loud sometimes and quiet other times, and both matter.
On the ride back, I felt different. I was still scared and worried, but stronger somehow like I had been given somethin’ I ain’t even know I needed.
Treasure finally looked back at me, smiled and said, “let’s go eat.”
The Trill Pot
On the way to eat, I stared out the window, feelin’ a lil’ overwhelm. I literally just watched Treasure bring a whole life into the world, and that image wouldn’t leave my mind no matter how hard I tried to shake it. Her hands was so calm and sure. It was the way she spoke to that woman like she had known her soul forever, the way she welcomed that baby like it was a blessin’ meant for the entire room. All of it sat heavy on my spirit in a way that wasn’t painful but wasn’t light either. It was the kind of feelin’ that made you think about shit you ain’t plan on thinkin’ about that early in the day.
I kept my face turned toward the glass while Treasure drove, watchin’ Trill-Land move by like it always did, bright and alive and beautiful. Palm trees swayed in the distance, and the sun hit the buildings just right, but my thoughts was somewhere else. I thought about babies and families and futures and how crazy it was that life could change in one breath. I wondered what Treasure would be like if Kay’Lo and me ever had a baby, howshe would look at my child, how she would hold them, and how she would pray over them the same way she did that newborn today. That thought made my heart warm and then tight right after, ‘cause right behind it came the fear I tried not to say out loud. What if that never happened for me? What if my body didn’t do what bodies was supposed to do? I swallowed that thought down quick ‘cause I wasn’t tryna ruin a good moment with sadness, especially not today.
When we pulled up, I looked up and frowned a lil’ without meanin’ to. The place was a soul food joint. It was that type of spot you smelled before you even opened the door. It wasn’t fancy at all. It wasn’t no valet, glass walls or dress code. Just a brick buildin’ with big ass windows and a painted sign that saidThe Trill Potin bold letters. The parkin’ lot was full, and folks was laughin’ and talkin’ outside like this was somewhere they came to feel at home.
I glanced at Treasure, then back at the sign, and I ain’t gon’ lie, a thought crossed my mind that I ain’t like about myself. I wondered if she brought me here ‘cause she thought this was the type of food I liked, like this was my lane or somethin’. I hated that the thought even came up, ‘cause it made me feel small for a second, but before I could sit in it too long, Treasure opened her door and smiled like this was exactly where she wanted to be.
The second we walked in, the smell hit me hard. Fried chicken, smothered pork chops, collard greens, cornbread, and somethin’ sweet that smelled like peach cobbler all mixed together in the air. Old school R and B played low through the speakers. It was that music that made you sway without realizin’ you was doin’ it. The walls was lined with pictures of smilin’ families and faded posters of soul singers from back in the day. The place felt warm, not just from the food but from the people in it.
Before I could even get my bearings, a woman behind the counter looked up and her face lit up. “Treasure,” she called out, loud and happy. “Girl, you back again.”
Treasure laughed, that soft laugh she had that felt like comfort. “You know I can’t stay away from you too long,” she said as she walked over and hugged the woman like they was family.
