“Regardthat there stapler?” Momma jutted her chin across the desk.
“Dang, ma. Cruel.” I took her hand and helped her up. “For that, we flying by jet to dinner. I got reservations at your favorite lobster place in Maine.”
“Tonight? I don’t know …” Reluctance and giddiness softened her voice. I loved repaying Momma. Wished she’d let me do more, though.
Never understood how she’d thought any of her boys would give her less than everything. Four boys. Four hearts would’ve moved the world for her without hesitation. She just loved the simple things in life.
Me and Momma started out of the office and were halfway through the dining area when a tiny voice spoke. I glanced down.
“Hey, little dude, I almost tripped on you.” I crouched, scanning the room for the kids’ parents.
The kid’s twisties jumped as he bounced in light-up shoes. Ah, nervous and too afraid to ask for my autograph. It happened all the time.
The kid shouted, “I said, They have bibs here!”
My brow’s raised, while his high-pitched voice made people turn toward us. “Uh, little dude, I don’t need a?—”
“You got food on your boobies.”
Journey rushed from the kitchen, scurrying around as if she expected Genèse’s purse to sprout legs and walk off. I’d told my cousin to move that leather “mortgage with handles” after Journey had tripped over it. Then I promised her a new purse for Christmas. Just didn’t mention a brand.
“Chest,” Journey said, heat exploding up her face as she slid dishes onto a table a few rows over. “It’s his chest, baby.” Her eyes flashed toward me, as if apologizing again for being the reason I had peach cobbler all over my shirt.
“Boobies,” the kid insisted louder. A blue light flashed as he stomped a foot.
Baby?
I stared at my momma.I know you didn’t.Momma had threatened me to keep my distance. Could’ve saved the office supplies by saying the queen with all that junk in the trunk already had a car seat strapped in. A kid? That baggage would’ve gotten Momma’s point across real quick. Did one of my brothers mention a kid on the phone? They’d said,little man. Should’ve paid more attention instead of focusing on who called dibs.Wait. Journey told me she was a celibate nun. Nuns didn’t have children!
I held out my hand to the kid. “Show me where to get a bib, Little Dude.”
“You gimme ice cream?” Excitement lit his face at the proposal he’d made.
“Of co?—”
“It’s Darius. Not dude.” Journey sauntered forward. She looked damn good, hips sashaying with each step. She took Darius’s hand from mine and turned to my momma. “Sorry, Ms. Virginia, this isn’t gonna pan out.”
“You just moved into your place, Journey.” Momma lowered her voice.
“No. We … rented a place for a couple nights.” Her eyes dropped to the mahogany floors.Did she just lie?Straight.In.Momma’s.Face? Ain’t enough switches in the bayou and all the swamps combined.
Why though?
“Mommy,” Darius frowned, “you said?—”
Journey yanked him onto her hip, shutting him up with a raspberry at his neck. “Talk later, honey.”
My gut clenched. Did Momma have a solid reason why I shouldn’t enjoy Journey’s company a time or two?
Was Journey on the run?—
A nasty cough echoed across the room. Desperate and wheezing.
Journey kissed Little Dude’s forehead. As I started toward the commotion, she deposited him into my arms. Her stare warned me not to move a muscle. Then she ran toward the choking customer.
zuri
. . .
