“That’s what’s up.” I nodded. “But how do you know that it’s you?” Her lases "uttered. “What do you mean?”
“I’m saying. Do your man got any kids?” “Hell no.”
“Okay, then.Hecould be the problem.” She shook her head. “No, I doubt that.” “Why?”
“Because. He’s a man’s man. I can just tell. It’s definitely me.” “Alright. If you say so.” I glanced down at my hands. “Wait a
minute. I just realized that you got me cleaning.”
She giggled. “Yeah. Aint nothing wrong with helping me out.” I shook my head. “I’m tripping. I still gotta prep this food.” She lifted her chin. “So, you really cook?”
My eyes brightened. “Didn’t you just eat that breakfast?”
“But that’s different,” she argued. “Anybody can make some Eggo waffles, eggs, bacon, and sausage. I literally could cook that by the time I was eight.”
“Me too. I can cook it all, though.” “Okay, so what’s on the menu?”
“Oxtails. Cabbage. Baked mac and cheese. And cornbread.” “Now, that sounds good. But it would be even better if you
made the oxtails the Jamaican way.”
I smiled. “That’s the only way I like it. But everything else is soul food. Ion care for the Jamaican cabbage or macaroni.”
She tittered. “Me neither. You want me to help?”
“Shit, I think that you just might have to. Especially after you been dominating my time, having me cleaning and shit.”
“Aww, whatever.” She waved me of, as if she wasn’t being slick as fuck. “You should let me make the cornbread. I got a family recipe.”
I nodded. “Alright. Bet.”
Since early that morning I hadn’t touched my phone and that was unheard of for me. My Sundays were family day, but my phones always had me in a chokehold. But not today.
Me and Babi had been talking nonstop, while she helped me in the kitchen. She was surprisingly articulate and had some layers to her. She honestly had me thinking about a lot, as a woman had never really given me enough space to thoroughly check them out without making me feel suffocated.
Flat out, I was digging Babi. I wanted to get to know her. But she spoke so highly of hernigga, and I didn’t want toscare her of by coming on too strong. So, I was just enjoying her company. Soaking up her essence.
“So, you staying for dinner, right?” I asked her after she placed the cornbread in the oven.
She sighed, as she glanced down at the phone that she was now holding. “I don’t know. I should really be heading home.”
I kissed my teeth. “Come on. You might as well stay and eat.
My people aint gone bite you.”
“Your people?” She lifted both brows. “And who might that be?”
“Mymamanem.”
“Your mama?Nigga,doyounotseewhatIhaveon?”
“Girl, aint nothing wrong with what you got on. Before if it makes you more comfortable, then you can borrow one of my shirts.”
She sighed, as she placed her phone on the counter. “I guess.” “Okay, bet. Now it’s settled. You staying.”
“Hey, baby.” My mama warmly smiled, as we embraced each other. I inhaled her sweet perfume, knowing that she probably had plans to see some nigga later. Because mymama was just forty-five, after having me at fifteen, and could unquestionably
pull several of my partners. With her red complexion, 30’ lace wig, and a BBL that I had sponsored, after she’d begged for it, my mama could give twenty-year-olds a run for their money. “You got it smelling good in here.” She acknowledged, as she patted my back.
