Chapter 11 #2
Mesha blinked away her tears and nodded. “He really would. I can hear him now. Mama, can I cuss?”
Lisa rolled her eyes. “Go ‘head, girl.”
“Gramps would be like, ‘Bout time you took your ass on up there. What you thought it was gon’ do, bite you?”
The trio laughed, knowing that’s exactly what George would’ve said. Or something along the lines of it. Either way, Heavy knew he’d be proud of him, and that’s what mattered the most.
“Aye, good morning. How y’all doing?” Heavy spoke, greeting the contractors with handshakes.
“Can’t complain at all,” one answered for them both.
“I’ma call y’all back when I leave here,” Heavy told them.
Lisa smiled. “Okay, baby. Love you.”
“I love you, too, big head. Don’t forget to pick up my baby today,” Mesha said.
“I got her, and I love y’all too.”
The call disconnected, and Heavy internally prepared himself for the walkthrough. The weight of why he was even there sat idly in his chest, but Gramps’ presence was felt even more. And for that, Heavy was grateful.
“I’m so sad this is our last night out together,” Gabi whined.
She’d finally made her way into town for Thanksgiving break, and the days had flown by too quickly. Living out of state was nice until she visited home and didn’t want to leave. Thankfully, it was only Friday. They had two more days to hang out.
Fastening her gold necklace, Cyren fixed her hair. “Not really. Just our last night out, out.”
“True,” Gabi agreed, squeezing her strip lash for the third time. “Ugh. I’m so mad my lash tech canceled on me at the last minute. These will be off by the end of the night.”
“Let me see,” Cyren said.
Stepping her way, she grabbed the tweezers made for lashes and helped her out. Gabi would’ve been even more upset had one fallen off while they were out and she had no backup plan.
“Now, stop touching them. That’s why it won’t stay,” Cyren fussed.
Chuckling, Gabi blew her a kiss. “Thank you.”
“Mhm. Should I change?” Cyren asked, adjusting her breasts. Her D-cups sat up nicely in a black sheer bustier top. One wrong move, though, and she was liable to have a nip slip.
“No. What’d you just tell me? Stop touching it, that’s why it won’t stay,” Gabi mocked, making them laugh. “I can tighten it for you. Turn around.”
Gabi untied and retied her top to fit more snugly.
It cinched her waist just right, making her hips more pronounced in the little black shorts hugging her curves.
Even with years of not playing sports, her glistening, toned legs gave you a hint of her past life.
Sticking with the all-black theme for the party they were headed to, Cyren had on open-toe strappy heels, showing off her fresh pedicure.
Something about white toes in the winter always did it for her.
Not wanting Cyren to feel like she was the only one showing skin, Gabi showed off the hard work she’d been putting in at the gym.
Taut abs were teasingly on display, with a cropped black tee stopping just below the curve of her breasts.
While her sickening six-pack was the star of the show, the pants she wore were a runner-up.
Jet black and skintight, they sat low and laced up both legs, showing slivers of skin.
Thin straps wrapped around her waist, letting it be known how hard she worked for her V-cut.
Finished in the bathroom, they stood at her dresser where two shot glasses were.
They’d taken one shot while getting dressed before Gabi made them a mixed drink.
It wasn’t as strong as she’d normally make them, but it got them through the two-hour prep.
Now, it was time for one more shot before they headed out.
Gabi did the honors, pouring the tequila.
“You know what happened last time I drank Tequila,” Cyren warned her.
Gabi smiled. “I do. You met a fine-ass nigga with some good dick, who likes to spend his money on you. Cheers!”
Giggling, Cyren picked her glass up and tapped Gabi’s. They clinked the dresser before tossing them back. With no lime to help soothe the burn, she felt every drop of the alcohol in her chest.
“Goodness,” Cyren groaned, sticking her tongue out.
“Oh, it wasn’t that bad. I lowkey should make us take another one because you didn’t finish your drink,” Gabi playfully said, flicking her.
Cyren shook her head. “No ma’am. Bre has a section, and I already know she’s going to have me taking some with her.”
They were meeting her at the club, and Cyren couldn’t wait to introduce them. Gabi and Bre had similar personalities, so she hoped they got along.
“And that’s what she should be doing. We’re celebrating you and turning up even if you don’t want to.”
Cyren smiled. Though Bre didn’t know she’d be celebrating Cyren, Gabi would gladly fill her in if her girl was cool with it.
It’d been three weeks since she talked to her Uncle Tony, and in that time, Cyren had made her decision to move.
It wasn’t a tough one, realizing she literally had the free will and resources to do what she wanted.
Explaining to Nia how lonely she felt was the hard part.
Her aunt understood and didn’t make her feel bad about doing what was best for her. In this life, that’s absolutely what you had to do, and she knew so, personally. Nia would forever love her niece and support her wherever her feet were planted. She just wished she had a bit more time with her.
“I never said I didn’t want to. I’m just pacing myself,” Cyren explained.
“Okay. Let’s set a limit for the night. We’re already two—”
“Three,” Cyren cut in. “Don’t look like that! You were heavy-handed as hell with our drinks.”
Gabi giggled. “I thought I went light. Whatever. We’re three shots in. Max is three at the club, or are we going just sipping?”
“Two and sipping. I’m glad your cousin is driving,” Cyren said, making up her mind.
Gabi’s cousin, Kay, was pregnant but not too far along to where she had to sit the club out. She didn’t mind being the designated driver for the night.
“Me too. This is her calling now,” Gabi said, answering her phone that was playing music. “Hello. Yes, you should see my car in the driveway. Okay. Here we come.”
Applying another coat of lip gloss, Cyren sprayed the insides of her wrists, neck, and ankles with a perfume she’d been obsessed with. Once she liked something, she wore it down to the ground. Making sure they had their IDs, they headed out of her bedroom.
“Okay,” Nia gushed as they walked into the living room. “Y’all look real cute. Gabi, you’re making me want a bob.”
Real cutesy, Gabi shook her blunt cut, encouraging Nia even more. “You should get one. I know you’d kill it.”
“No, you really would, Auntie,” Cyren agreed.
Her hair was currently down, falling just beneath her armpits. She was off today and had literally let her hair down and had been around the house doing absolutely nothing but enjoying her rest.
Nia fluffed her hair, wondering how much lighter she’d feel if she did go that route. Maybe not as short as Gabi’s but a shoulder-length style.
“My beautician is going to think I’m going through something.” She chuckled.
“It’s so freeing, though,” Gabi said.
In Nia’s eyes, cutting your hair was a sign of freedom.
It was letting go of dead weight, situations, trauma, people, and so many other things our strands held onto.
It wasn’t necessarily about the style but the release.
Nia planned to look up hairstyles tonight and text her beautician in the morning. It was time to let a few things go.
“I bet. Where are y’all headed?” Nia asked.
“The club. It’s an all-black party,” Cyren answered.
“I think that’s the one Sky and her friends are going to. Y’all aren’t going together?”
Clueless to the tension and words that’d been shared between them, Nia’s question was genuine. In her mind, it only made sense for them to go together.
Cyren shook her head. “Nope. According to your daughter, me and her friends don’t mesh,” she said, arching her middle and index fingers.
Sighing, Nia shook her head. “My child, my child.”
As if she’d been summoned, Skylar’s heels clicked as she walked down the hallway. She didn’t speak to Cyren or Gabi as she entered, just looked them over with a look of disinterest, as if they weren’t standing there looking fine as hell.
“Mama, can I wear your black mini Chanel bag?” Skylar asked.
“You don’t have one?” Nia asked.
Skylar huffed. “Yes, but I don’t have that one. It goes with my outfit.”
Cyren was no hater, and she loved most of the outfits her cousin wore, but this one wasn’t it.
They always dressed for the occasion, and not the weather, but the Chanel T-shirt style dress she had on stopped right at the cuffs of her ass cheeks.
She might have been able to pull it off, had she gone a different route for her shoes.
The heeled ankle boots she wore gave the outfit an overall cheap, thrown-together appearance.
Cyren would’ve given her two cents but kept them tucked, knowing she’d be wasting them.
“I don’t care, Sky. Just make sure you put whichever one you grab, back,” Nia let her know.
There had been too many times she had to go into her room and search Skylar’s closet for her belongings. Smiling, Skylar started to head toward Nia’s bedroom but stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes squinted, trying to gather an understanding of what she was looking at.
“Mama, this is the purse right here,” she said, pointing to the bag on Cyren’s shoulder.
Nia looked at it. “It is? I didn’t know that’s the one you were talking about. I gave that to her.”
“What!” Skylar’s neck almost broke the way she swiveled it so fast.
Cyren looked down at the quilted lambskin clutch with a gold chain, then lifted it. “Oh. Is this the purse? Hmm. It is cute and goes perfectly with my outfit, too. I’m sure she has another one you can borrow.”