I turn back around and find him rifling through his middle console, pushing his phone, a few napkins, and a shiny gold condom aside before picking up an envelope overflowing with twenty-dollar bills.
I squirm in my seat, chasing the rigid edges of that condom along with the memory of him admitting to what he does for women while he pinches a chunk of bills together and pulls them out. I try not to jump to conclusions about where the money came from as he looks down and counts it out into two stacks, but all I hear are Terrica and Meechie’s voices in the back of my head, gossiping about the boys in the Bottoms and the dope they allegedly sell for Melo Barnes.
Rich picks up the first stack of money and pushes it toward me. “That’s yours.”
I push it back. “But I hardly cleaned anything.”
And I didn’t want to tote around any money that came from him.
“You was never going to,” he replies.
“So you’re paying for a cleaning service you don’t use?”
“When Faye offered to clean my house sometimes, she saidshe’dbe cleaning it—not you. I don’t know you and you don’t know me.”
Another throb rolls through my middle as he picks up the other stack with his free hand. “Give this one to Faye.”
Her stack is larger than mine, but it makes sense because I was just her annoying little helper for a day who caused more harm than good. I even left her with an unhappy client because I couldn’t mind my own business.
He stares at me with the money in his hand while I glance behind him, avoiding his gaze.
I feel naked—like he can see right through my clothes—but it doesn’t change the way he treats me. He still talks and looksat me like everything is everything—like he always argued with poor battered women like me.
“Hm.” He hums, clumping both stacks together and pushing them toward me. “Put it in your purse and go see about your friend.”
“I can’t take your money.”
“Faye take it.”
“But she works for it.”
At least I think she did.
“Yeah, and you did too.” He rolls his eyes to the side and huffs. “Besides, you don’t know what me and Faye’s situation is.”
A sharp pang hits me in the gut because I truly didn’t. I’d strayed away from home for so long that I didn’t know what was what anymore.
“I promise a few hundred dollars ain’t gon’ put me out in the street,” he adds. “Take y’all’s money, go see your friend, and stop sneaking away from Faye and Kenny.”
I stare at his wet lips, waiting for his voice to get louder, but it doesn’t happen because Rich talks in an even slower, lazier drawl when he’s aggravated. I breathe out to nix the flutters in my stomach, but they’re so jarring they make me feel like I’m floating outside of myself.
His head lolls to the side, and he swipes his tongue against his bottom lip while pushing the money toward me again. I can hear him even though he isn’t saying anything. I even see all the rest of the questions he’s holding in about me and AJ behind his low eyes.
I reach out, curling my hand around the money, but as soon as I try to pull it, he holds it tight and forces his eyes onto mine.
“No more sneaking off to see me…” he mutters.
“I didn’t?—”
“Because you don’t know me like that…right?” He nods his head slowly as if he’s trying to convince himself too.
My head nods along with his until his grip finally loosens. I take the money, stuff it down in my tote, then tug the door handle.
“Hey, Slim…” he calls out.
I look over my shoulder, savoring his comforting voice and that nickname one last time before I go back to just being Lovie.
He holds up a balled fist.
