“Who the fuck are you? Bitch, this is my child.”
“Sure don’t seem that way to me. And watch your mouth when speaking to me and in front of children. I’d hate to have to pop you in it.”
“Shay, this is Kennedi. Uncle Ro’s girlfriend. You aren’t supposed to be here. So go and stop coming here. You’re embarrassing me.” Monroe’s voice shook slightly.
Monshay looked Kennedi up and down, taking her in with a sneer before her eyes landed on the small swell of her belly. Then she turned to Spirit, and her whole face twisted into something you’d see on Jeepers Creepers.
“Hmm. Still mad I took your man?” Monshay laughed, the sound sharp and cutting. “You can have him.”
Spirit’s jaw clenched. She was counting, breathing through it, trying to stay calm. She owed Monshay an ass-whooping—not even about Robin anymore, the principle. But she wouldn’t do that on school property or in front of Monroe.
“Monroe, are you okay? Let me get you to the car.” Spirit gently guided Monroe away, shielding her from her mother’s toxicity.
But before she walked off completely, Spirit leaned in close to Monshay, voice low and deadly. “I wish a crackhead would try and hold onto a nigga I could have eating my ass with one phone call.” Her eyes dropped to Monshay’s hairline, then her nose. “And next time you come outside, make sure your wig ain’t lifting, and you wipe your nose. Enjoy your miserable life. Stupid ass bitch.”
Spirit walked off with Monroe, helping her into the car. She never took her eyes off Monshay’s trifling ass. Once a snake, always a snake.
Kennedi stepped forward, putting herself between Monshay and the Navigator behind her.
“Monshay, take your raggedy ass on, and this is me being nice. If I call Rolani, you might as well call your people to start making arrangements for your homegoing services.”
Kennedi wasn’t in the mood, and she didn’t want to cause a big scene at the school. Robin paid top dollar for Monroe to attend here.
“Rolani is not her father, and you for damn sure ain’t her mother.” Monshay’s voice cracked, desperation bleeding through. “I’m getting clean, and I need my daughter to help me with that. Robin can’t do this to me. I need her.”
Kennedi’s expression didn’t change. “Look at me. Does it look like I give a fuck about your sob story?” Her voice was ice-cold. “There’s no excuse for your behavior. Stay away, or when I drop this baby, I’m going to bash your damn face in. Upsetting her is not going to fly or happen on my watch. Go away. It’s not her job to help you get clean.”
Kennedi and Monroe had a lengthy conversation about her mother that first night she’d stayed over. It was like Monroehad been holding it in, waiting for a moment where it felt safe enough to finally let it out. Kennedi didn’t know the pain of not having a mother; hers had always been her safe place, her warmth, her shield. But listening to Monroe talk about Monshay, about the absences and broken promises, pulled at her in a way she couldn’t shake.
This was Monroe’s reality. It was unfair, but Monroe was so smart, and that brain of hers was going to take her places. Monshay would regret being inconsistent, regret choosing everything and everybody over her baby. One day, it would hit her. But by then, it would be too late.
“This ain’t over, bitch.”
“Police on the way.” Kennedi pulled out her phone, screen already showing the call connecting. “So you better crawl back under the bridge your wicked ass crawled out from. And please don’t ignore my promise. It’ll be belt to ass if you keep it up.”
Monshay’s eyes widened. She looked around—other parents were watching now. She backed up, then turned and walked quickly toward the parking lot, throwing one last glare over her shoulder before disappearing.
Kennedi slid into the car, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary. She took a breath, then glanced in the rearview mirror at Monroe, who was staring out the window, jaw tight.
Kennedi wasn’t going to address what happened. Not yet. Monroe needed space, needed to process. So instead, she shifted gears—literally and figuratively.
“Spell ‘indomitable,’” Kennedi said, pulling out of the parking lot.
Monroe’s head lifted, a small smile breaking through. “I-N-D-O-M-I-T-A-B-L-E. Indomitable. Adjective. Impossible to subdue or defeat.”
“Use it in a sentence.”
Monroe’s smile grew. “Monroe Pracher has an indomitable spirit.”
Spirit’s laugh burst out before she could stop it. “That’s a fact right there.”
Kennedi grinned, eyes flicking to the mirror. “Damn right. Now, I think we deserve a treat for handling that so well. Little LA wants some ice cream. Let’s go to Roll’d and Topped Creamery.”
“Yayyy!” Monroe cheered. “I need two treats for my troubles.”
“It’s on Uncle Ro, so we ball.”
Kennedi turned the radio up, and the girls finished their afternoon singing along and laughing until they made it to the ice creamery. Monroe got her Cookies & Cream with extra Oreos, Spirit ordered some elaborate caramel situation, and Kennedi stuck with strawberry cheesecake because Little LA had very specific cravings. He didn’t play that mess. The day was perfect, and she had managed to put a smile on Monroe’s face.
