Chapter 5 #2
“I’m not implying anything.”
“Well, it seems like you are, and if that’s the case, then I will have to.”
“You won’t have to do anything because you are not about to take away that victory in court to be moral about shit.
You already won the case, and you are probably getting a bag because of it.
I know you're not taking this conversation any further for justice for a nigga you didn’t even know. So, a simple thank you will suffice.”
Crew smiled at me, and then I rolled my eyes and turned away because, for some dumb ass reason, a smile was trying to tug at my lips too.
Why, I don’t know. I, in fact, don’t find shit funny about him confessing to a murder to me.
He was right, though, and I won’t say shit.
That would open up a whole other can of worms that I just don’t have time for.
I have too much shit going on in my life.
I walked away and I could feel him watching me, his presence trailing me like heat on the back of my neck. Crew had one of those auras that followed you long after you stopped looking at him.
When I left the courthouse, I thought about grabbing a drink, but I knew where that would lead.
One drink would turn into two, and then I'd end up replaying everything that went wrong in my life as I did during my slight alcohol addiction in college.
So instead, I tried to think of something that could lift my spirit without alcohol, and I knew that was my niece.
Her and I could have a movie night to brighten both of our days and pig out until she falls asleep tonight.
I went straight by the grocery store near the courthouse to grab the snacks and other things we needed for a movie night.
I got two bags of popcorn, a two-liter of orange soda, which was her favorite, and a family-sized bag of Sour Patch Watermelon candy that was my favorite guilty pleasure when I wanted a sugar rush.
I added a Starbucks mocha coffee to my order at the register and then headed out of the store to make my niece's night.
Because she is only three, her understanding of her mama's death was little to none.
She still smiled like nothing in the world had changed except when Ryan would cross her mind at night or when she got hurt.
But, I have been trying to show up for her every chance I got, even with court draining me day after day I still tried to be there.
When I parked in front of their house, it still looked the same from the outside.
Tam brick, narrow stoop covered in snow, a potted plant by the door that Ryan always swore she'd keep alive but never did.
Across the street, two little girls were playing hopscotch, and their laughter echoed between the brownstones.
It made me smile because it reminded me of how Ryan and I used to play together on hot summer days double dutching with a few of our neighbors.
Back then, nothing in the world worried, bothered, or upset us.
We were carefree girls who just needed some candy from the bodega and a box of juice to make us happy.
I stepped out of the car and spotted Nathan coming down the sidewalk, arms full of boxes. He looked worn out, hoodie half-zipped, beard growing more uneven by the day. I got out of the car and met him at the stoop as he jogged up the stairs.
"Hey, what are the boxes for? Are you getting rid of Ryan’s stuff?"
"Nah, I’m not, but," he stopped, adjusting the boxes in his arms.
"Look, Bria, I'm moving back to my hometown in Virginia, and I'm taking Love with me."
"What?" My voice projected instantly.
"No. Why?"
"That's where all my family is. I need help with her. "
"You have help here. I'm here," I said, stepping in front of him. "I told you that you can stay here for however long without payment until you're caught up. I told you that I would help out with Love. I want to be there for her."
He placed the boxes down, rubbing his hand over his face.
"Bria, come on. You and I both know that taking care of Love is a full-time job; you don't have time for it. Stopping by with snacks every day for a few hours isn’t raising her.
My mama and sister back home are both on disability, and they said they'll keep her every day while I work. "
"Nathan, that isn't how this has to be. We can find her a good daycare, split the time, and figure something out here.
She's the only family I have left now besides my brother, and he's locked up for God knows how long. I want to be a part of her life. I need her, and she needs me. Come on. Don’t do this. "
He shook his head, jaw tightening.
"Bria, you and I both know that one day you might have your own family.
Your own life, so the time you're offering right now won't always be there.
I already told my boss I'm not coming back in two weeks.
I'm just packing early to stay ahead. Ain't nothing left for me in New York anymore.
Your sister was all I had, and even we didn't have what I thought we did.
She couldn't even be honest with me about where she was fuckin working. "
His voice broke a little on that last part, and I felt my stomach twist. Ever since Ryan died, I could tell he was holding onto anger more than grief by the way he couldn't look at her in that casket, the way his nose flared any time her name came up.
I understood why he felt betrayed, but still, she loved him.
She was just trying to keep them both afloat by working at that club.
Ryan obviously wanted easy and fast money.
"Look, all I'm asking is two weeks. Let me prove I can be there for her."
He let out a long breath with tired red eyes. The look on his face said he wanted to do anything but explain himself to me, but I wasn't letting this shit go.
"Bria, you could be in there visiting her now while you can, instead of treating this stoop like a courtroom. No amount of arguing is going to change my mind. It is made up, alright. Love is my daughter, and I make the decisions for us. Ryan is gone so you no longer have that control."
He grabbed the boxes from the ground and went inside, closing the door behind him with a soft thud that felt heavier than it should've.
For a moment, I stood outside, having a silent panic attack on the steps.
I then convinced myself to just leave because right now I was way too mad to have a conversation with Nathan.
I was taught in law school to keep a clear mind when making a point, so I could formulate the right things to say to prove it.
Hot heads are always the worst at arguing because they can’t stop all the thoughts running through their heads to think of just one good one.
Once I got back inside my car, I exhaled deeply to attempt to clear the frustration I had before going inside to talk to Love. My phone then started, ringing, and I answered it, masking everything I was going through right now because on the phone was my boss.
“Hi. Big win today, council. I am so proud of you. Phenomenal work. You are an excellent attorney, and we see a very bright future for you ahead.”
“Thank you so much.”
I smiled because just that moment of validation was a relief to me.
“But.”
He spoke, and the smile cleared off my face. I never liked the word but because it was a sign that the conversation was going to take a turn. Most of the time a turn in the wrong direction.
“The partners and I have been discussing your future here at the firm, and we do not know if it’s best for you to move forward with us at this time.”
“Wait, why? Is this a joke?”
“Listen Abria. We love the work you have done and hired you because we felt you could be an excellent partner one day, but after everything that has transpired with your personal life and the videos circling around, we don’t think you would be a good representation of the law firm.”
“What? Why?”
“Because our motto is Grit, Skills, and Resilience, and unfortunately, those videos of you show a bit too much emotion, if you will.”
“I had just found out that my sister was murdered. How was I supposed to react?”
“With Grit and resilience.”
He threw back that lame ass motto again.
“So, you are really firing me over the phone? Like, is this shit real?”
“Bria, as you know, I am still out on recovery, and I will not be back in the office for the next two months. We will schedule a time for you to meet with my other junior partner, Jackson Hews, to discuss your termination and severance package. Kera will send you an email about that.”
“Wow. Okay, bye.”
I hung up the phone in his face before he could say another word.
After screaming to the top of my lungs to let out my frustration, I took off, driving like I was crazy until I got to the liquor store in Brooklyn.
I didn’t care that I parked illegally in front of the store, and when I got out, I quickly had to tell a homeless man on the curb to fuck off.
The doorbell chimed as soon as I entered the building, and the back cooler was calling my name.
“Can I help you find something pretty, lady?” The cashier called from the counter, but I threw my hands up because I already knew what I was coming in here for.
This particular store had small bundles with mixers to make your own cocktail from the comfort of your car.
I may not have had one of these little packs since the beginning of law school but now was a perfect time to have one.