“Hey Ms. Rochelle.”
“Duke,” she flatly responded, holding the door open for us.
“How you doin, miss,” spoke my momma once we were inside.
“I’m doin alright,” Ms. Rochelle said, looking over her shoulder, leading us into the house.
I was happy as hell to see that it was just her and not the other two niggas. The other day when we talked about meeting up today, I told her I’d rather not deal with them if I really didn’t have to. She understood since me and the bitch nigga Justin had a few words. She did say Justin would like to stay in Diary’s life. And because I wasn’t a ho ass nigga, I didn’t protest. I understood. With so much changing in Diary’s life, she needed something to stay consistent. I just wouldn’t be dealing with the nigga. Them type of transactions would have to be made through Ms. Rochelle, over the weekend.
“You ain’t tell me she was old as hell,” whispered my ma as we continued into the living room.
I nudged her a little and shook my head. Her voice was low, so I was sure Ms. Rochelle in her old age didn’t hear her but still. It was disrespectful.
“Ms. Rochelle, this is my momma Adena. Remember I said she’d be helping me out with Diary?” Pausing, I nodded. “Ma, Ms. Rochelle, Diary’s grand—other grandmother, Ms Rochelle.”
They shook hands and I looked towards the back of the house. “She up?”
“Mm mm. Thank God. She been running me raggedy all day. Since about six thirty this morning. The child don’t know what sleep is,” she said with a soft giggle, that weariness heavy in her tone.
I felt like shit.
But I didn’t address the time I had spent away. Ms. Rochelle knew the truth now. I didn’t have to keep coming with excuses and I wouldn’t. I was trying; that was the only thing that mattered.
“Probably a bad time to wake her up then, huh?” I asked, stroking my beard.
Ms. Rochelle shrugged. “You taking her right? Might as well wake her to get this over with.”
Today we were telling Diary who I really was. Her father. It was time. Neither of us knew how that would go over, but it was well overdue. I would be needed in a lot of areas in her life, and I couldn’t be there as ‘Mr. Duke’. I wanted to get her in daycare, take her to appointments and shit like that. A friend of the family couldn’t do what her father could.
I left work early for this little meeting. I was needed on site, but I felt like I was needed here more so I told my boss one of my kids were sick and I needed to leave work early. I hated to burn bread but how else was I supposed to get this to work? Lately, I’d even been thinking about lessening my work hours without telling Mahogany. I had ma to help but I didn’t want to pawn Diary off on her anytime I needed help.
We walked to the back of the house where Diary’s room sat.
“Thisher bedroom?” Ma asked. “Uh uhn, Ducati you gon’ have to do something about this.”
“I know,” I mumbled, standing in the doorway.
“She look just like Sparkle. Couldn’t deny this child if you tried,” ma said, with a sweet smile on her face. “Another grandbaby. Ain’t that some shit.”
I didn’t say anything; I sat on the bed and ran my hand over the top of Diary’s head, brushing up against an old scar from the car accident. She squirmed, made noises and held on to her baby doll tighter. I rubbed her head again and softly said, “Diary.”
She hummed and her long eyelashes fluttered open. “Hm?”
“Hey baby girl.”
“Hi Mr. Duke.”
Mr. Duke. I wondered if that would change after today’s conversation.
“You wanna get up and come in the living room with me?”
“Yes,” she said, sitting up. Her eyes immediately went to my momma. Cowering away, she leaned over against me with dipped brows.
I glanced at my ma, and then back down at Diary. “Diary, this is Ms. Adena. My momma.”
“Hi,” she whispered.
“Hi sweetheart,” my ma said, with her hand extended.
