When I went downstairs, Jameera was wearing a flowy sundress, and Lil Q threw on a pair of basketball shorts and a shirt. The flowers were scattered everywhere, and Lil Qdramatically looked from the flowers to me until I finally walked past him.
“Nah, who sent you all these flowers? The same nigga you was in Miami with?” Lil Q quizzed, walking behind me out the front door.
“None of your business, Junior,” I waved him off, fumbling around in my purse for my phone.
“Nah, you wanna be all up in my business so I’m just returning the favor.”
“I’m your mother. You are living under my roof. Your business is my business. I feel like I’m actually pretty lenient when it comes to restrictions, especially considering some of your past antics. I left my phone in the house. Here, start the car. I’ll be right back,” I replied, tossing him the keys just as we reached the car.
Jogging back to the house, I keyed in the passcode and rushed upstairs to grab my phone. There was a text from Yaseer waiting, and a smile instantly spread across my face.
Yaseer: Get used to that kind of love. I wanted to make sure every time you walk past them, you remember who’s pouring into you. I hope purple is your favorite color.
Me: It is. How did you know?
Yaseer: I’m observant.
I started typing a response, but my horn blaring interrupted me. With my phone in hand, I rushed downstairs and out of the house to see what was going on. When I approached the car, Lil Q was in the front passenger seat, his arms crossed and jaw tight, staring straight ahead like the dashboard pissed him off.
“What’s your problem?” I queried, slipping behind the steering wheel.
He turned in the seat to glare at me, he swallowed hard before letting out a deep breath, and faced forward again without saying a word.
“He ummm…” Jameera snickered in the backseat before bursting into a fit of laughter.
“He what?” I pressed, spinning around so I could have a good view on both of them.
“He saw your cake,” she cackled.
“The shit ain’t funny!” Lil Q grumbled.
“Where is my cake?” I panicked, realizing that I forgot it on the passenger seat, but it was gone now.
“I tossed it in the trash. What kind of freaky stuff was you doing in Miami?”
“I…”
“Rhetorical question, ma!”
“Boy,” I giggled, pulling out of the driveway. “Trust me, I was only going to say I don’t have to answer any questions you may have. I’m grown and that cake was a rarity!”
“He was ready to eat whatever you had in that box, then he opened it, and… and…” Jameera was dying laughing at our expense, unable to finish her statements.
“Please, let’s change the subject,” I pleaded, my face heating with embarrassment. “Were you and your dad able to find a dress for homecoming so we can find Lil Q something to wear?”
“Yes, we did. I sent the picture to Q to send to you. My dress is turquoise and super cute. I’m so excited for homecoming. Senior year is about to be so much fun.”
“Why didn’t you send me the dress?”
“Ion wanna talk until the vision of a cake with a penis indentation is out of my head.”
“It was big too,” Jameera laughed harder. “I know that’s right, Mama Marissa.”
Lil Q spun around in the backseat to mug her. “You think this funny?”
“Hilarious, actually. Mama gotta have a life too, Q.”
“Exactly, let me live a little.”
