“It’s not on purpose,” I swore. “She’s just not my cup of tea. And instead of coming over and making things awkward, I rather just keep my distance.”
“Well, I don’t like it,” my daddy claimed. “But I can’t force you to do nothing. You 18. But when you’re ready, I want you, me, and Laura to sit down and have a conversation.”
“Okay, daddy. We’ll do that. Just not tomorrow, though.”
“Yeah, alright. I’ll talk to you later then, baby girl. Love you.”
“Love you too,” I responded, before ending the call.
“Damn. So, you just mean all across the board, huh?” Breeze questioned, as his head rested on my pillow.
“No. What made you say that?” I propped my head in the palm of my hand.
Absently, he pulled me into his arms. “Cause, just listen to yourself. Laura is annoying?” He mimicked.
I smirked before psychoanalyzing. “She is. It’s not my fault that my daddy needs therapy and got with a twenty-five-year-old who has daddy issues.”
“Wait, what?” He leaned his head back.
“You heard me. I think that he has unrealistic expectations. He should’ve known that our relationship would shift, after he got with Laura, who was twenty-five at the time. Just barely ten years older than me. She wasn’t even a mature twenty-five. Just a girl who wanted a sugar daddy and got pregnant. I honestly think that she was just messing with my daddy and had no long-term plans, until he got her pregnant. So, they constantly argue about her wanting to be in the clubs and hanging with her friends. Regular shit for her age. But my daddy refuses to acknowledge that, because then he’d have to look deeper into himself. Because why with all his options, did he want that younger woman? Then…when its comes to her, she sees me as competition. Keeping up with what my daddy does for me. Then had the audacity to mention that he shouldn’t be paying all that child support for me when my mama makes all that money, and I write books. The ghetto bitch just never had a daddy, and doesn’t understand the dynamics between me and my daddy. Wants me to struggle because she had to. And is quick to say that I shouldn’t need my daddy to do X,Y, Z because I have a boyfriend. Like on what fucking planet does that make sense?”
“Damn. Sounds like pops got himself a hood rat.”
“He does. But it’s not my problem. I’m not one of those daughters that has to throw my weight around. My daddy made his choices and never stopped to think about our relationship or how it would be impacted. Men do that. It didn’t matter how I felt about Laura, because she was who he chose. Meanwhile, my mama would never. From the moment she introduced me to Tricky Ricky, he’s been nice—"
“Wait. Who the fuck is Tricky Ricky?” He squeezed my body.
I giggled, realizing that I’d gotten far too comfortable, letting the nick name for his daddy slip out. “That’s your daddy.”
“Maaannn, you fucking messier than a muthafucka. But that nigga do be doing some major tricking. I always tell him that.”
“I know. He literally helped my mama get the G-Wagon.”
Breeze’s eyes bucked. “He did?”
I nodded.
“That nigga is wild, for real.”
“Well, aint nothing wrong with it. I’ma have a man to do the same type of stuff for me.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yep. I don’t know if it’ll be Harlem, or the next boy. But that’s how I’ma have it.”
“Harlem? You honestly believe that y’all are gonna last, after the way I been fucking you?”
I tucked my lips into my mouth. “I mean…are you gonna tell him?”
He didn’t respond.
“Breeze,” I pushed.
“Shit, what you want me to say? We just been doing us. And I haven’t been around that nigga. So, I can’t say how I’ll feel if I see y’all interacting. Or if you try to bring him up here. I might spazz out.”
“Wait.” I hooded my eyes. “So…how does that make sense? He’s my boyfriend.”
“He don’t gotta be, Summer. Especially if you know that you doing some grimy shit behind his back. Don’t take up space in that man’s life, when you know that you aint right.”
