Chapter 20 Toni Roc #2
The second we walked in, the smell hit me hard.
Fried chicken, smothered pork chops, collard greens, cornbread, and somethin’ sweet that smelled like peach cobbler all mixed together in the air.
Old school R and B played low through the speakers.
It was that music that made you sway without realizin’ you was doin’ it.
The walls was lined with pictures of smilin’ families and faded posters of soul singers from back in the day.
The place felt warm, not just from the food but from the people in it.
Before I could even get my bearings, a woman behind the counter looked up and her face lit up. “Treasure,” she called out, loud and happy. “Girl, you back again.”
Treasure laughed, that soft laugh she had that felt like comfort. “You know I can’t stay away from you too long,” she said as she walked over and hugged the woman like they was family.
That right there surprised me more than anything.
The staff knew her. They wasn’t starstruck or impressed.
They was comfortable with her, happy to see her and jokin’ with her like she was part of the place.
That’s when it clicked that Treasure ain’t come here for me.
She came here ‘cause this was somewhere she loved.
We got seated in a booth near the window, sunlight spillin’ across the table, and Treasure slid in across from me with that same easy calm she carried everywhere. I picked up the menu even though I already knew I was gon’ want everything on it.
“What you feelin?” Treasure asked, lookin’ at me over the top of her glasses.
I smiled a lil’. “Honestly, everything.”
She laughed. “That’s how you know you’re in the right place.”
When the waitress came back, Treasure didn’t hesitate.
She ordered oxtails smothered in gravy, collard greens, candied yams, and a side of mac and cheese, plus cornbread on the side like it was non-negotiable.
I went with fried chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, greens too, and yams ‘cause if she was gettin’ them then I was gettin’ them too.
Sweet tea for both of us, no questions asked.
While we waited, my mind drifted back to earlier, and I couldn’t help myself. “Can I just say,” I started, my voice softer, “watchin’ you deliver that baby was one of the most amazin’ things I ever seen.”
Treasure smiled but shook her head like she ain’t wanna sit in praise. “It’s not about me,” she said. “It’s about the mother and the baby. I just help them meet each other.”
That humility made my chest ache in a good way. “Still,” I said, “you move like you was born to do that. Like you knew exactly what to do without thinkin’.”
She looked at me for a moment, like she was readin’ somethin’ under the surface. Then she leaned back against the booth and asked real calm, “What’s your story, Toni?”
The question caught me off guard, even though I felt it comin’. My fingers tightened around my purse and I had to swallow before I answered. “Kay’Lo done told you some things, I’m sure.”
She nodded. “He has, but nobody can tell your story better than you.”
I stared down at the table for a second, then looked back up at her. “My mama died when I was nine,” I said, my voice calm even though my chest tightened. “She got hit by a car on her way to work. One minute she was here and the next minute she wasn’t.”
Treasure didn’t interrupt. She just listened.
“I went to live with my grandma Glo after that,” I continued. “And I love her. That’s my heart, but life with her wasn’t easy. We struggled… A lot. She did the best she could, but sometimes love ain’t enough to fix everything.”
I kept it surface level, not diggin’ into the things I wasn’t ready to say, and Treasure didn’t push. She just nodded like she understood without me havin’ to explain it all.
After a moment, she spoke. “I grew up poor,” she said. “Real poor. Before Kwame, before all of this. I know what it’s like to scrape and pray and keep going anyway.”
I blinked at her. “Really? Poor, though?”
She smiled at me. “Really. And I see a lot of myself in you. Your strength. The way you love. The way you still show up even when it hurts.”
I nodded and blinked my tears away. I didn’t say much after that.
The food came then, plates heavy and steamin’, and for a few minutes we just ate, moanin’ over how good everything was and laughin’ about how Kay’Lo used to sneak food before dinner when he was little.
Treasure told stories about him bein’ hard-headed and sensitive all at the same time, and about how he always felt things deeper than other kids.
At one point, I put my fork down and took a breath. “I know his daddy don’t like me,” I admitted, my voice low.
Treasure sighed but didn’t look surprised. “Kwame doesn’t like what he can’t understand,” she said. “But he loves his son. But, Kay’Lo will always protect you from the things that hurt you. That part, you don’t have to worry about.”
That helped more than she probably knew.
After we finished eatin’, we hugged the staff goodbye and stepped back outside. The sun was lower now, and the air was cooler. Treasure pulled me into her arms again, and for a second, I let myself just be held.
On the drive back, I felt lighter.
When we made it back to her mansion, she dropped me off at my car, and squeezed my hand. “You got a good heart, Toni,” she said. “Don’t forget that.”
I watched her pull away, then sat in my car for a moment before startin’ it. Then I finally left.
As I drove home, the day replayed in my mind, and even though nothin’ was fixed, I felt stronger, like I had someone in my corner who saw me and wasn’t goin’ nowhere.
To me, that shit meant everything.
Trill-Land, ‘LoLux Estate
Today didn’t owe me shit. After hangin’ out with Kay’Lo’s mama, I felt like I had finally caught my breath after drownin’ for weeks straight.
My heart felt lighter, my thoughts felt clearer, and for the first time in a minute I felt like maybe I wasn’t crazy for fightin’ so hard for my marriage.
Treasure didn’t judge me, and she ain’t rush me.
She didn’t make me feel like I was complainin’ or reachin’.
She just listened and showed me love in a way that felt ancient and safe, and I was drivin’ home replayin’ the whole day in my head like a song I ain’t want to end.
I drove through the gate and pulled into the driveway feelin’ hopeful, and I ain’t had much hope left these days so that shit mattered.
I grabbed my purse, stepped out the car, and smiled to myself, already practicin’ how I was gon’ tell Kay’Lo about his mama, about the baby, about the food, about how good my spirit felt.
I walked through the front doors callin’ his name, my voice echoin’ back at me through the mansion.
“Kay’Lo,” I called again, kickin’ my shoes off. “Baby, where you at?”
He ain’t answer, and that lil’ knot in my stomach tightened just a bit, but I shook it off and kept walkin’.
Then I heard a loud ass bang. It was metal clankin’, and somethin’ hittin’ the cabinet hard enough to rattle the dishes.
My smile dropped and my heart started beatin’ faster as I followed the noise toward the kitchen.
The second I turned the corner, my purse slid right out my hand and hit the floor without me even realizin’ I let it go.
Kay’Lo was under the sink, shirtless, sweat pourin’ down his back and chest like he had been runnin’ for his life.
Pipes was pulled halfway out, tools scattered everywhere and water slow drippin’ on the floor.
His hands was movin’ fast and frantic, his eyes dartin’ back and forth like he was chasin’ somethin’ I couldn’t see.
“Kay’Lo,” I said, my voice shakier than I wanted it to be. “Baby.”
He ain’t even look at me.
“I hear it,” he muttered, yankin’ at a pipe harder. “That shit been talkin’ all day. I’m tryna fix it.”
My throat closed up. “Hear what?”
He finally turned his head toward me, his eyes wild and unfocused, then back to the sink. “It’s right there. You don’t hear that shit, baby?”
I stepped closer, my heart poundin’ so hard I could hear it in my ears. “Kay’Lo,” I said again, louder this time. “Look at me.”
He ignored me, kept yankin’ at the pipes, and mutterin’ under his breath, his whole body vibratin’ with energy. I reached out and grabbed his arm, and the second my hand touched his skin, it was like I touched fire.
He whipped his head toward me, his eyes lockin’ on mine like he just realized I was there.
“I’m good,” he said quick. “I got this.”
Tears burned my eyes instantly. I blinked fast, tryin’ not to cry, and placed my hand flat against his chest. His heart was racin’ so fast it scared the shit outta me. It felt like it was tryna beat its way out his body.
“You not good!” I snapped, my voice crackin’. “Yo’ fuckin’ heart feel like it’s ‘bout to explode!”
“I said I’m good,” he shot back, lookin’ past me toward the sink again.
“No the fuck you not!” I yelled, my voice echoin’ off the walls. “You drenched in sweat, pullin’ pipes out the sink like a madman, hearin’ shit that ain’t there, and you wanna stand here and tell me you good?”
He flinched at my tone, then got defensive. “Stop fuckin’ yellin’ at me, Toni. You stressin’ me out.”
I laughed, but it came out broken and ugly. “Me stressin’ you out? You got me in this fuckin’ kitchen feelin’ like I gotta call an ambulance ‘cause I don’t know if my husband ‘bout to pass out or have a fuckin’ heart attack!”
“I don’t need no ambulance!” he barked. “I don’t need help! You not fuckin’ hearin’ me!”
“That’s the problem!” I screamed. “You always think you don’t need help!”
He kept lookin’ back at the sink, then at me, like he couldn’t decide what was real. My anger exploded then, weeks of fear and frustration pourin’ out my mouth without permission.
“You stopped takin’ yo’ muthafuckin’ medicine!
” I yelled. “You don’t wanna hear no fuckin’ body ‘cause you too fuckin’ stupid to listen!
You don’t wanna get a second opinion! You just wanna pretend everything okay while I’m sittin’ here losin’ my fuckin’ mind watchin’ you fall apart in front of me! ”
His hands dropped to his sides and his breathin’ got heavier. “Why you want me sick so bad?” he snapped. “Why you keep pushin’ that on me?”
That hit me so hard I staggered back a step. “What?” I whispered, tears spillin’ over. “You really think I want that for you?”
He clutched his head, pacin’ in a tight circle now. “You always talkin’ about somethin’ wrong with me. The doctor said I’m fine. Why can’t you accept that?”
“Because I live with yo’ muthafuckin’ ass, nigga!” I screamed. “‘Cause I see yo’ ass! Because I feel it! Because I’m the one holdin’ you when you break down, not that fuckin’ doctor! Because yo’ ass done sat up here and tore up the whole fuckin’ sink, nigga! That’s the fuck why!”
My voice was the loudest thing in the room, and I ain’t even realize how much I was sayin’ until his face crumpled.
He stopped movin’. I mean… just stopped, like somebody unplugged him.
His shoulders sagged and his knees buckled, and before I could even process it, we was both on the floor. I dropped with him, my arms wrapin’ around his body as he collapsed into me, breath comin’ out of him in these broken heaves that tore at my soul.
Everything in me shut the fuck up then. It wasn’t no more yellin’ or anger.
I pulled him into my chest, slid my back against the refrigerator, and held him while he shook like he was freezin’.
My tears fell straight down his neck and on his shoulder as I rubbed his back over and over, whisperin’ to him like I was tryna talk him back into his body.
“I got you,” I kept sayin’. “I got you. You safe. I’m right here.”
He was incoherent, words slurrin’, breath uneven, his whole body soaked and tremblin’.
We stayed like that for hours. The mansion went quiet around us while time slipped by.
My mascara ran down my face and dried there.
My arms ached but I ain’t let go. He rested his head in my lap eventually, his breathin’ slowin’ bit by bit.
I stared straight ahead, numb as hell, my mind blank except for the sound of him breathin’.
When I finally got him up, my body moved on autopilot.
I got him upstairs, ran the bath water, and tested it with my hand until it was just right.
He was exhausted and distant, lettin’ me undress him without sayin’ a word.
I lowered him into the tub and grabbed a washcloth, my hands shakin’ as I washed his chest, his arms, his back.
Tears slid down my cheeks and dropped into the water while I cleaned him, my heart breakin’ with every stroke.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered at one point, barely audible.
I ain’t answer. I just kept washin’ him.
After the bath, I dried him off and grabbed his silk pajamas, helpin’ him get dressed like he was a child even though he was a big ass man. I tucked him into bed and stepped out for a second, grabbin’ a bottle of water from the kitchen, my hands still tremblin’.
When I came back, I sat on the edge of the bed and looked at him. His eyes was tired and scared, and I hated how much that look hurt me.
I opened the bottle and the pill container, then held them out to him. “Take yo’ pills, ‘Lo.”
He stared at the pills, tears wellin’ up in his eyes. There was a long pause, like he was fightin’ himself.
Finally, he reached out and took them.
I handed him the water, watchin’ him swallow, relief crashin’ into me so hard my chest hurt.
I climbed into bed behind him and wrapped my arms around his body, pullin’ him close. He turned his back to me, and I held him until his breathin’ evened out, and until sleep finally took him.
I stayed awake for a long time after that, listenin’ to him breathe with my face pressed against his back.
No matter what anybody said.
No matter what any doctor said.
I knew in my soul my husband needed help, and I wasn’t about to let him disappear while everybody else pretended everything was fine.
So, I held him.
And I stayed…