“The meeting with Couture Interiors for Wednesday… It’s been moved to virtual.”
I drew back with a frown. “What?”
“Yeah, the change just came in about uhhhh… fifteen minutes ago. I waited because I was trying to see if you would see the change in your schedule yourself. When you didn’t verify?—
“Decline it. Call and let them know a virtual meeting won’t work for me.”
“You sure? Your schedule is pretty packed. I think it would be convenient. Your meeting with Silas is all the way in Bloomfield Hills. You’d have to travel all the way Downtown instead of just hopping on your?—”
“I’m not looking for convenience right now, Nina,” I interrupted.
I didn’t want convenience. Fuck convenience. Her ass thought she was slick. Mahogany… she thought she was fuckin’ slick.
“Mrs. Mills-Morris can’t accommodate an in-person meeting, Crescent. The notes said something about a conflict in her scheduling. I think we should keep the virtual meeting, considering the pace of the project. It would be beneficial?—”
“Hit her people. Let them know that a virtual meeting is a conflict withmyschedule. Tell them the last-minute change ishighly unprofessional and I don’t appreciate it. Pretty it up and shit. Do your thing, Nina.”
With that I hung up and shook my head. Mahogany was fucking with me. The last time I saw her, she left my office with an attitude. Slammed the door and shit because she was pouting about the complaint I filed. Hell, yeah I filed the complaint. I wasn’t playing about that shit. It might’ve been a little personal, but I filed it and got what I wanted. Her back on the team with me. However, she was trying to play dirty, talking about virtual meetings. Which would have been perfectly fine if she was someone else. I was being difficult on purpose. I didn’t want to talk to her over a computer screen. I wanted the full Mahogany Experience, and I wouldn’t stop until I got that.
Before I could get dressed and head out, my phone went off with an email notification. It was from her. Mmmh. She said fuck communicating through our assistants and came at me directly.
Good morning, Mr. Carter. I’ve been notified about the conflict you have with moving things virtual for our upcoming meeting. And while I understand your concerns completely, I’d like to keep the meeting over Zoom or Google Meet—whichever works best for you. If you take a thorough look at the contract, it states that if necessary, meetings that are off site could potentially be virtual, as it is not a requirement to meet face-to-face. And under the current circumstances, a virtual meeting works best. During our last meeting, you raised concerns about the progress of The House of Nova Ray. And in an effort not to delay things further, I believe that the best course of action would be to accommodate by keeping the meeting virtual. I hope to hear from you soon. Thank you for being in partnership with Couture Interiors. We truly value your trust.
Leaning up against the dresser, I thought about calling her. But nah, we were on some professional shit, so I replied to the email instead.
Good morning, Ms. Mills, I hope you’re having a fantastic day. I had a good look at the contract when I signed it, thank you. I’m aware of what it states about virtual meetings. But since Couture has been thorough and accommodating with every project but The House of Nova Ray, I’d like to request in person meetings for those that are off site as well to ensure that the job gets done proficiently. Which shouldn’t be a problem, considering the last designer left me very unsatisfied. I have high expectations and hope they will be met.
It didn’t take long for her to reply. This time the email was lengthy. I skimmed through it and didn’t see anything about her accommodating me. Just shit about why the meeting would work virtually. She talked shit about my lack of participation by failing to review emails in a timely fashion, too. Instead of responding to her, I just planned on being at Couture the day of our meeting regardless.
About an hour or so later,I was at my parents’ house. When I got there, I headed straight up to the bedroom to speak to ma. The walk was unhurried. My stride, a little heavy. I wasn’t excited about seeing her in bed. Wasn’t thrilled about seeing her strength stripped away from her. It wouldn’t be the first time I saw her down. Chemo did that to her often, but this time was different. The doctors said she was at the backend of her illness. Pops had called me over here to go over the will and burial plans. She was getting a mausoleum too. You think I wanted to be involved with this shit?
I tapped the door a couple of times before I heard her soft voice call for me to come inside. Swallowing, I pushed the door open and walked in. I was surprised to see that she wasn’t lying down at all. Not for real, anyway. She was propped up against the headboard, TV remote in her lap, eyes on her stories.
“Hey little lady, what’s going on?” I said, surprised.
She looked over at me. “Hey son. What you doin here?”
I walked over and gave her a hug. “Came to see y’all a bit before I have to head to this meeting.”
With twisted lips, she doubted me. “Mmhmm. You came to see us. I bet that man downstairs called you over here for some unnecessary shit, didn’t he?”
I turned my mouth down and shook my head, “Nah. He didn’t.”
I didn’t lie to my mother. I didn’t like to lie to anyone. And I didn’t just lie to her a second ago. What he called me over for wasn’t unnecessary. It was very necessary, but moms didn’t see it like that. If it were up to her, she wouldn’t have a will. Wouldn’t have life insurance neither. She was a part of that big population of old school muthafuckas who thought life insurance was a scam. Wasjinxy. So, she didn’t bother with it. Same went for pops though. If it weren’t for Luna, neither of them would have it. It took moms getting sick for pops to actually take it seriously.
“Yeah, he did,” she said, shaking her head. “That man worry so much. Now he worrying you. Like you ain’t got enough shit on your plate.” She looked away from the TV, at me. “How you doin’ Cressy?”
I sighed and shrugged. “I’m cool. And coming over was nothin’ ma. You know that.”
“It’s not about you comin’ over. It’s about what you came over here for. I have another bad chemo session and that man gets to worryin’. I’m alright and if I’m not alright, that’s alrighttoo because guess what? If it’s my time to go, it’s my time to go and can’t nobody do nothin to change that. Especially not him with all his worryin.”
I didn’t say anything, but I thought about a lot. She was right. If it was her time to go, she would just go. There was nothing either of us could do to change that. And if there was anybody around this bitch that knew that for certain, it was me. What moms didn’t understand was that this wasn’t worrying—it was preparation for the inevitable. Preparation I didn’t want to be a part of. She could see it too. I could see her, seeing it through the way she looked at me. When she placed her hand on top of mine and gave it a little squeeze, I felt it then too.
“Now he got you worrying. You don’t need to be worried about a thing, Crescent. You hear me? Don’t let them pull you into this. Don’t let them pull you down with them. You keep your head up and your eyes on the prize. Your company. Keep tunnel vision baby. I don’t want to see you…” She paused and shook her head. “Just… don’t worry about little ol’ me. How is Reign doing? She lookin’ better than ever.”
I looked at her and she gave me a smile that said she was trying to do exactly what it seemed like she was trying to do. Insinuate some shit about Reign and me. I appreciated the change of subject. Didn’t like where she took it though.
“I don’t know how Reign doin’ ma,” I said, cutting my eyes at her. “She straight I guess.”
