“Okay, ’cause he’s mean to you,” she says and I feel a jolt in my chest.
I put up with his shit for too long.
“And that’s why I’m not going back. Nobody should be mean, and when they are mean to you, you don’t have to be around them anymore. Okay?”
“Okay, Mommie. Then, get relaxed,” she says and I kiss her forehead.
When I try to follow them out, Kandi stops me. “Stay in here. They can see that look on your face. They are good. You deserve this. Go, for real, and have fun. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Then love me enough not to call,” she says.
“I can’t promise that,” I say right before they walk out of the house.
When Kandi’s Infiniti pulls off, I take a deep breath to draw my emotions and Averi’s words in. Then I rush down the hall into my bedroom. Quickly, I pull my hair back into a pony, undress, and hop into the shower. Fresh out, I brush, gargle, moisturize my face and body, then throw on a thin sweater dress. It’s early March but a little cool out. It’s barely fifty-five degrees.
After locking up the house, I grab my rolling bag, my small snack bag, and tote then walk out into the garage. I’m splurging this weekend and ordering room service but I can’t pay ten dollars for a bag of chips from the not-free snacks in the room.
Twenty minutes later, I’m pulling up to the valet at the exclusive hotel, and ten minutes after that, I open one side of the double-door entrance and walk into a breathtaking Italian marble foyer. This suite has it all. I could actually live here. There’s a L-shaped plush sofa, oversized coffee table and ottoman, flat screens in the living room, bedroom, and bath, remote-controlled Roman shades and curtains, four-seater dining table, and a small office area.
After making a quick walkthrough video, I take my bag into the bedroom and unpack. No matter how long or short my stay, I’m not comfortable living out of a suitcase. Once my toiletries are in the bathroom, my clothes in the closet, and snacks on the table by the bed, I fall back on it and cry. My emotions hit me out of the blue, and because I’m all alone, away from my girls, I don’t stop them.
I’m in the executive suite of the most prestigious hotel in the city. My bills are paid. Money is put up for my girls. I have the title to my car and the house me and my girls are in is ours and there’s no mortgage. My life is good, well as good as it can be, because I had to lose my heart, my mother, to have this life.
“Damn, Momma,” I utter through cries. “Damn.”
Out of habit, I open my phone. Just as I’m about to press my mom’s contact, my phone rings. It’s my babies’ ringtone.Right on time.I activate mommie-mode and quickly sit up, wipe my face, inhale and exhale deeply before answering. Both of their pretty little faces fill my screen, and in concert, they greet me.
“Hey, Mommie,” they sing.
“Hey, babies. You miss me already?”
“Yes,” Romi says.
“No,” Averi answers honestly. “It’s only been ’bout thirty minutes.”
“Well, I miss you but I’ll see you Sunday. What are y’all doing?”
“’Bout to eat crab legs. Auntie got us some. I’m ’bout to melt the butter,” Averi says.
“Crab legs! Ohh, that sounds good. I’m jealous.”
“I’ll save you one,” Romi says.
“Aw, baby, thank you but you don’t have to. I’m going to eat dinner here.”
“Okay. Whatcha gon’ eat?” Romi asks.
“I don’t know yet. I’m about to decide and go downstairs. Have fun, and remember, do what your Auntie Kandi says.”
“Okay,” they sing.
“Who loves you?” I ask.
“You do!”
They end the video call and I smile. No matter what I’m going through or how I’m feeling, I can always count on my girls to put a smile on my face. They are my reason.
