Chapter 6
Layla
“I don’t want to put her in a home,” I say to my mom and June Bug a few days later. Gaga is in her room napping after another horrible day. This time, she thought my mother was a stranger and scratched her face. “She will be so scared there. No. Absolutely not. Besides, we can’t afford any of the good ones. If we send her away, she will have to go to some mediocre home. I’m not doing that to her.”
Mom mulls my words while she stirs something in a pot. I know she doesn’t want to put Gaga in a home either, but I also understand that it’s becoming increasingly hard for the three of us to take care of her. She requires full-time care, and with us all working, that can be hard to juggle.
“I know. I don’t know what to do.” She turns off the burner and takes a seat. “She almost left the house today. She had no clothes on, and I had to physically pull her from the door.” Mom drops her head in both hands and groans. “And she’s so damn strong. I don’t ever remember her being this physically strong before.”
“I can cut back at work,” June Bug adds. “Lay can’t. She’s a big-time exec now.” He taps me on the shoulder with pride.
I’m hardly a big time anything, I work in the public relations department. June Bug now works at my old hotel.
“No, you’re not cutting back on work,” my mom says, giving him the side-eye. “You just got that job, and it’s been keeping you out of trouble and away from those so-called friends you used to run the streets with.” June Bug just beat a felony. He unknowingly drove the getaway car, but luckily he beat that charge and has been on the straight and narrow since.
“I told you, Auntie, I ain’t about that life no more. After a year, I qualify for tuition reimbursement at work. I’m not messing that up.”
My mom smiles at him and lays her hand on top of his. “You’ve always been a good boy, June Bug,” she says. “It’s my brother who’s a piece of crap.” June Bug’s mother died when he was young, and my uncle met someone else who didn’t want a child that wasn’t hers. He’s lived with me, Mom, and Grandma since. When he got in trouble, it was my mother who got him an attorney. After she called my uncle and cussed him out for being a deadbeat dad, she shamed him into sending money for the lawyer too. “Okay, we’ll figure it out like we always have,” my mom says. “Donna will help.” Donna is my former stepmother. She married my dad a couple of years after he divorced my mom. They formed a strange friendship over the years, and it only got stronger when Donna divorced my dad. My mom gave her the name of the divorce attorney she used.
I’m nervous about how it will all work out. Gaga is having mostly bad days. She’s been keeping the three of us on our toes all weekend. She responds the best to June Bug, but unlike me who works Monday through Friday, his hours are unpredictable.
“I’ll call the extended family. Lord knows there are a lot of us,” Mom says. There are, but we can’t count on most of them. They will agree and not show up. “I’ll call around later. Layla, set the table, and let’s eat.”
“His profile said five-eleven, but I swear he was only five-six because of his shoes. Why do men lie?” I ask Jeannie, sighing loudly. It’s the end of the day, and I’m sitting in her office before we go home. “Then last week, one guy said he needs a woman who can take directions from a man. I asked him if the man in question was directing traffic.” Jeannie giggles. “He didn’t like that. I got my green tea iced lemonade and left. I’m done. I know I said I was done before, but I mean it this time.” I lean back in my chair. “If a man wants me, he”ll have to come find me.”
“Don’t say that. You’ll meet him when you least expect it. Or who knows? Maybe you’ve already met him.”
I roll my eyes. Of course, she’d say that. That’s exactly how she met her husband. She met him at a wedding her mom forced her to attend. My mom doesn’t force me to attend anything because we spend all our time either taking care of Gaga or coordinating her care.
“Where would I have met him at? I don’t go anywhere to meet eligible men. I’ve given up on getting with one of the Mischiefs. They’re all dogs, and I’m not about the baller lifestyle anyway.”
“Not all,” she says. “But most,” she agrees. “And the ones who aren’t are taken.”
“I wish someone would take this dang virginity,” I admit. Jeannie is the only person who knows I’m still a virgin. I was too busy playing sports and studying in high school to date some stupid boy. Besides, I saw how my mom struggled with me as a single parent, and I was too scared of being a teen mom to have sex.
Now, I’m twenty-two and haven’t met someone yet. “You know if I wait any longer, a man won’t want to touch me. They’ll think I’m some freak. One guy last year accused me of being a closet lesbian. I wish I was a lesbian. I’d much rather deal with a woman than a man.”
“Bite your tongue. To each their own, but a man has so much more to offer if you know what I mean.” She wiggles her brows at me. I reach over and put my hand on her belly.
“I guess that’s why Coach put two babies in you at once.” We both cackle.
After talking for a few more minutes, her husband walks into the office. To my shock, Wakowski is with him and has the baby strapped to his chest like always. I look away. He’s such a jerk, but even I must admit he’s good with his baby. He’s always posting videos of the two of them on social media. The cutest is a video of her on a pink baby weight bench. He’s standing over her and encouraging her as she lifts. He seems to take her everywhere with him, even though he ended up as a single dad after he got a random fangirl pregnant.
Jasmine is a beautiful baby. It’s obvious her mother is black with her light brown skin and curly hair. Jasmine yells and points when she sees me. Wakowski takes her out of the baby carrier and hands her to me. I put her on my lap, and she bounces and grins happily.
With so many younger cousins, I’ve always been comfortable with babies. Not only that, but I like them a lot. You never have to guess with a baby. You know right away whether or not they like you, and this one must really like me. She looks into my eyes and gurgles. Then she grabs a piece of my hair and pulls. I bounce her, and when she giggles, I do too.
“How are you so cute?” I give her father the side-eye.
He grins at me, and I look away. The truth is, she does resemble him. She has his long slender nose and his smile. The few times I’ve seen her, she’s always so happy despite how terribly he dresses her. It’s almost as if he’s color-blind. I look down at her and shake my head. She’s in purple leggings and a black tutu. He always puts her in a tutu. Her shirt is red and has a Disney Princess on the front. He tried to give her pigtails, but they are crooked and lopsided. He completed her outfit with green high tops.
“Are you color blind?” I ask him. “Why is she wearing all these colors?”
“I warned you about this,” Jeannie says to him. “We’re coming over this week, and I’m going to put outfits together for you again. I’ll hang them in the closet this time.” He seems unbothered by her rebuke. I move Jasmine closer and inhale her. She smells like baby powder and clean laundry.
“You guys want to go get some dinner?” Seth asks. I know he’s not talking to me. We don’t like each other, and I don’t want to spend time with him, but I’ll happily hold this baby while I can. I tighten my arms around her and feel her against me.
“Can’t,” Jeannie says. “We’re meeting Aid’s sister and her husband for dinner. His parents will probably join us too.” Seth’s face drops a little, and I wonder if he’s lonely. Not that I care, but I’ve never seen him with any friends outside of Jeannie and her husband or Colt and Vickie Chastain.
“Well, we can come,” he insists.
“No kids. They specifically said they were leaving their kids at home for some adult time,” Aiden says.
Wakowski’s shoulders sag.
“Why don’t you go see if Chastain and Vickie are available,” Aiden suggests.
“They’re not home,” he says. He looks down like a kid who’s been told that their friend can’t come out to play. “Maybe I really do need a wife,” he jokes.
At least I think it’s a joke, but when I look at him, he’s not grinning like he usually does. He looks away as if he’s deep in thought.
“Women have enough problems without one of us taking you on as a husband. You do you know you have to keep your pants zipped if you’re married, right?” I ask, horrified at the idea of him marrying a poor unsuspecting woman.
“You’re awfully concerned about what goes on in my pants.” He grins. “I wonder why that is?” He puts his hands on his hips and gyrates.
“In your dreams. Nobody likes community di—” I stop when Aiden clears his throat and gestures at Jasmine.
“Not in front of my goddaughter,” he admonishes.
“Are you under the impression that you’re a woman? I bet you look like Barbie down there.” He gestures at my crotch, and I gasp in disgust. “Don’t worry. You’re safe from me. I don’t’ like plastic.”
“The nerve,” I begin.
“Well, you and Layla can go to dinner,” Jeannie suggests, interrupting me. I widen my eyes at her and flare my nostrils. She knows I can’t stand this manwhore. All he does is sleep around when he’s not on the field. When he’s playing, he’s gyrating like a horny playboy on the court after each basket.
“Um, I’d rather eat with Lucifer,” I tell Jeannie. “He’s better looking, and I bet a lot more charming.”
“You think the devil would waste his time on a loser like you? Get over yourself. Come on. My treat,” he says.
“Who are you calling a loser, Whorekowski?”
“You.”
“Don’t you have about half a dozen Sethheads you can call?”
“Nah. They’re all busy tonight.” He grins. “I’m doing you a favor, anyway. You have zero friends.”
“I know for a fact I have more friends than you. And I’ll pass on the dinner invitation. First, I’d rather starve. Second, I hate you,” I remind him.
Aiden crosses his arms and scowls at me. I don’t know what it is, but he’s very protective of this fool. I can’t hurl a single insult at this clown without Aiden jumping in and defending him.
“Good, since I hate you too, but we can still eat. Jazzy, you want to eat eat?” He pretends to put a spoon in his mouth. Jasmine approves because she starts to clap her hands.
“Nom nom,” she says. He does something in sign language, and to my surprise, Jasmine signs back.
“I don’t eat with whores,” I say.
“Layla, stop. He’s left that behind and is doing his best. And stop using those words around Jasmine. Besides, who wouldn’t want to have dinner with my goddaughter?” Aiden takes Jasmine from me and holds her high above his head before he kisses both her fat cheeks.
“Fine, but I want lobster,” I tell him. “Let’s go. And you’re taking me home afterward.”
“If you want lobster, you’ll have to put out,” he jokes.
“Dinner’s off,” I say. “I’d rather screw anyone else. Hell, where’s the nearest convent? I’ll join. Jeannie, get a chastity belt and clasp it around his crotch to keep all the other women safe from him.”
“I’m not going near his crotch,” Jeannie says, clearly horrified at the thought.
“Enough with the jokes, Seth,” Aiden admonishes.
“I find you as attractive as the dead pigeon festering in the summer heat I saw on the sidewalk on the way over here,” he tells me. “And I like my women on the feminine side. I think you need a little waxing. That thing is thicker than mine.” He points to my upper lip. I purse my lips shut. I know he’s lying because I just waxed last week.
Jeannie tries to hide her laughter behind her hand, but I still hear her.
“I’m getting shrimp too,” I tell him. “Shut up and let’s go before I change my mind.” He takes Jasmine from Aiden and puts her back in the baby carrier. “And expensive champagne.”
“Sounds like a date,” Aiden says with a grin.
“As if this clown would have a chance with someone like me,” I say. Seth opens his mouth to utter a rebuttal, but I speak first, “Say one word, and you’re eating alone.” He promptly shuts his mouth. Yup. He’s lonely. If he would rather eat with me, someone he doesn’t like, he’s definitely lonely. A tiny, microscopic part of me feels bad for him. Lonely is one thing I’ve never been.
He gestures for me to leave the office. After saying goodbye to Jeannie and Aiden, I leave and tell Seth to follow me to my cubicle.
The office is nearly empty, but a few people see and recognize him. He waves, and people give him pads of paper for autographs. While he takes pictures and talks with some of my colleagues, I shut down my computer and grab my purse.
“You better take me somewhere nice,” I say once we get into the elevator.
“Oh, please. I bet you think Subway is somewhere nice,” he says while pressing the button for the lobby. He has a car and driver waiting outside. After sliding inside the Escalade, he orders the driver to take us home.
“Home? How cheap are you? I want to go somewhere expensive on your dime, loser, not your den of inequity. If I have to be stuck spending time with you, I want it to be worth it.”
“My what?”
“Don’t be stupid,” I say, rolling my eyes.