“Can I at least kiss her lil chubby cheek?” I plead.
“Girl, go ahead but I swear if you wake her, she’s going with you,” she says, teasing.
“And she can definitely do that,” I snap playfully before leaning in and kissing both of Jazzmyn’s chubby cheeks. “She’s so precious,” I tell Kandi before sitting on the sofa next to her.
“Precious and demanding,” she says with a smile. “Her little lungs are powerful.”
“Is she sleeping through the night yet?” I ask and she rolls her eyes, hard.
“I wish,” she sighs. “But my hubby is so good. He gets up with her a lot and lets me sleep. My mom wants her this weekend but I don’t know. As tired as I am, I love every minute with my little angel. I can’t have her away from me that long.”
“It’s your mom and I’m sure you and Chad can use some alone time.”
“To just sleep because that’s all I would do,” she says while grinning. Then, she takes a long sip from her latte. “Mmm. Thank you for this. It’s heaven. But enough about me. Let’s talk about you and this policy. They finally came to their senses.”
“Yes and it took a sista,” I tell her. “The lady who helped me when I lost it last week turned out to be a senior agent. She stepped in and made it happen.”
“Look at God!”
“I know, right? Whew! And I’m so thankful. What he was saying…that shit was eating at me. My momma would never, you know?”
“I know, bestie. I know. But what are you going to do now? A hundred Gs is a lot of money.”
“I know,” I say while shaking my head. “After I pay off my car and the girls ‘tuition, I’m going to set up fifteen-thousand-dollar accounts for Romi and Averi. They can get the money when they turn eighteen and the rest, I’m saving.”
“What about you? For fun? You have been through it and deserve something to put a smile back on your face.”
“I’m good,” I utter, no truth in my words, but my best friend knows me.
“You’re not and that’s fine,” she says before placing her hand on my knee. “You will be good and part of getting there is taking care of yourself. Why don’t you book yourself a staycation? Go to The Metropolitan, book a facial and massage, orderroom service, and just relax. Pick a weekend and I’ll keep my goddaughters.”
“I don’t know,” I admit.
“Well, I do. Hell, if you want to be adventurous, take your ass to Seventh Heaven and get your back blown out for a weekend,” she says, then laughs.
“I wish I would take my ass to a sex club. That’s a hell no.”
“But you need some dick,” she says matter of factly and I damn near spit my latte out.
“Bitch what!” I gasp.
“You heard me. You need a man, bestie. Romi is four. It’s been long enough.”
Her words are true as fuck and I can’t even argue. Rush’s stupid ass is the last man I’ve been with. I was pregnant when he was sentenced and somewhat still with him his first year and a half inside. When I finally ended things with him, I was over men and stayed single. Between my girls and my job, I have enough on my plate. Adding a man and a relationship seemed like too much to add, so I stayed single.
“It’s been a minute but I don’t have time for a man. Besides, with the girls, I don’t know. I don’t want to disrupt things for them and I don’t want to be parading different men around them.”
“I’ve known you for all twenty-eight years of your life. You’ve never had a parade of dudes, so miss me with that. Stop being scared and be open. You deserve to be happy all around and especially under a damn man.”
Although I’m laughing at her craziness, I’m also listening and taking her words in. I’m not lonely because I have my babies. We have each other but I do miss what a man, well, a good, non-narcissistic man, brings to the table. I want to feel safe and secure in strong arms. I miss a man’s hands on my body, and lord knows, I’m tired of my plastic and silicone replacements.
“We’ll see. If I meet a good man, I’ll try to smile,” I say and we both laugh.
Over our lattes, we talk and catch up and my godbaby stays asleep the entire time. She never opens her eyes for me but I do steal more cheek kisses before I leave. I make it to Little Einsteins ten minutes before dismissal and the girls and I are home, showered and finished eating our take-out spaghetti dinners from Redmond’s Soul Food by seven-thirty. Their video visit with Rush tonight is later than normal. He should be popping up on the screen in five minutes.
“I got time to go pee?” Romi asks.
“To the bathroom, yes. Go ahead,” I tell her as I pour my lemon drop.
