Chapter 17
Kristie
“That’s hot,” Daisy said.
Shiv, Daisy, and Lacy were lined up on the plush, dark brown couch while Mama Hen sat in the brown leather recliner.
Her home was quaint, cute, and tidy, with lots of nods to their lifestyle while still being homey.
According to Shiv, it was the president’s house and the one next door was for the vice president, but Hawk still lived next door while allowing his mom to stay in her home.
A photo of a man with long, black hair standing next to a motorcycle that had more black than chrome sat on the table next to the chair.
He had a cut like the others, but I hadn’t seen him around.
Based on the small bits of info I’d been given over the last week and his hardened face resembling Hawk’s, I surmised it was her late husband, Raven.
“I’m not sure she’s shooting for hot for an interview,” Lacy replied.
Shiv chimed in. “Listen, a bunch of men work there. A nice fit and a touch of cleavage never hurts.”
Lacy’s eyes widened, and her hand flew to her chest. “Shivana, as a professional woman and one coming from your background, I am shocked that you would encourage her to use her body.”
Daisy laughed so hard so she doubled over, and Mama Hen cackled.
Smiling, I asked, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you an exotic dancer?”
Lacy straightened, chin up. “Yes, and I only stopped for safety reasons. But I’m not an educated woman.”
“Yet,” Mama Hen cut in. “You will be. And there ain’t no shame is using whatever means necessary to get ahead. Men have no qualms about it. Neither should we.” She pointed a finger towards Lacy. “And stop acting like you’re less than just because you found a way to take care of yourself.”
After getting to know the ladies, I found out Lacy and Shiv knew each other growing up and both came from well-off families.
But while Shiv did what was expected of her, then pivoted later in life, Lacy had a falling out with her family and decided to make it on her own.
I admired them both. I wouldn’t be where I was without the help of my family.
For Lacy to abandon all of that to do it on her own was brave.
“So, do we like this outfit for the interview, then?” I asked, trying to get the conversation back on track.
It was a grey pantsuit with purple pinstripes and an eggplant dress shirt that hugged me and honestly, when you had larger breasts there wasn’t a lot you could do to hide them. So yes, a tad of cleavage peeked out from the top.
“I love it. If I wasn’t a couple inches taller than you, I’d steal it,” Shiv said as she sipped her drink. They’d assembled a snack tray and drinks for the event. I loved how everything was turned into a big deal here, even a post-shopping trip show.
Lacy said, “It looks great and complements your hair and skin nicely.”
Daisy smacked her playfully. “I thought you said she shouldn’t be hot?”
“I just said I wasn’t sure she was going for hot.” She turned and smiled. “But you do look pretty hot. And still professional.”
“Any more outfits?” Mama Hen asked.
“A bunch. But they’re just casual wear.”
She threw her hands up. “We need the full show. Chop chop,” she said with a double clap.
Giggling, I nodded and ran back upstairs to the spare room where I had changed, then commenced with the full fashion show.
After trying on all the outfits and even doing a few mix and matches, we were finally winding down, and it was safe to assume we all had a slight buzz.
“Mama Hen, I’m going to head over and start getting stuff ready,” Lacy said.
Mama Hen was in her kitchen and poked her head around. “Okay, hon. I’ll be right there. You tell those boys to fire up the grills.”
Shiv had already wandered outside and Daisy was by the door. “Need help with your stuff?”
“I got it. Be right out.”
I was just folding up a few things and Daisy headed out when a girl, well a young woman actually, flew inside, briefly apologizing to Daisy before running up the stairs. Her long, dark ponytail swayed from side to side as she stomped up the steps before she was out of sight. A door slammed.
Mama Hen poked her head around again. “What’s up her ass now?”
Curious, I put my clothes down and headed to the kitchen. When I saw remnants of our light snacks and cups, I rushed to the sink to help.
Mama Hen waved me off. “This kitchen ain’t big enough for two chefs. Go on over with the girls. You can help Lacy if you want to be useful.”
“If you moved out of the way, I could take care of that stuff,” I said, looking at the small pile in the sink.
Mama Hen slowed, glancing up with those piercing blue eyes. She grabbed a hand towel off the counter, then stepped out of the way. “You know, I always said don’t kick a gift horse in the mouth.”
After opening the dishwasher and turning on the water, I rinsed the items before placing them inside. The tray she had put a few snacks on was too big for it, so I washed it by hand.
“So, the young lady, your daughter?” I asked without looking up.
She sighed heavily. “Yeah. Penny. She’s got her good days and bad days. She’s in grad school.”
“Still mourning her dad?” This time, I looked up at her.
“Ha! No. I’m sure she’s sad, but she’s more pissed than anything.” Mama Hen crossed her arms. “She don’t care for the life. Never mingles with the club. When her daddy got killed, it only drove that home.”
“It’s definitely not average,” I replied as I rinsed the platter.
She pulled a few paper towels off the roll and stuck her hand out, so I passed it to her.
She dried it as she said, “No. And she didn’t ask to be part of it.
But I always wanted a family, so we had kids.
I guess I just assumed they’d both love it since they were raised with it.
But she’s her own person,” she said as she walked to a cabinet and put the platter inside.
Turning and leaning on the counter, she continued.
“I try to cut her some slack since this wasn’t her choice. ”
Pulling a couple of paper towels down, I dried my hands and wiped around the sink.
“She’s an adult. Why doesn’t she just leave?
” My parents tried to get me to move home after college, or at least closer, but I wanted to stay put.
They accepted it and even came to host a housewarming after I found my own place.
Mama Hen smirked. “Nothing around here is ever that simple. I know it’s new, but I hope you understand things.
You can’t just leave this family.” She gently gripped my wrist, and her icy blue eyes bore into mine.
“If you commit to one of them, you commit to DEMC.” Then she walked away, leaving me alone in the kitchen.
Thinking she may return, I stood, waiting. When I heard the front door, I poked my head around and, through the window, saw she was already halfway down the front steps, carrying half of my bags.
Pressing against the door frame between rooms, I crossed my arms. If you commit to one of them, you commit to DEMC.
I’d thrown caution to the wind and decided to go with the flow and let things unfold. Moving to a new city with the potential of a new job was exciting. Reconnecting with my long-lost love was the cherry on top. But I hadn’t worried too much about the future, not a real future, until that second.
Sure, in our weird naked-discussion we spoke of the future, and decided to put the past behind us so we could move forward.
We planned to get a place together, but that just meant living together.
I had my own money, and even if the CDC didn’t pan out, Atlanta was a huge city with lots of opportunities in my field.
And if it didn’t work out with him down the road, I could find my own place. I didn’t need Rooster to get by.
But why did Mama Hen say that?
If I stayed– if we moved in together– did that mean I was with him forever? Did I become part of this family? Part of this brotherhood? I needed to really think about this harder than I expected.
I had asked lots of questions about the cuts that my new friends wore and why only a few of them had them.
They were Old Ladies. To them, it meant more than being married.
Although Daisy was married to Falcon and Lacy was getting married to Eagle soon.
Shiv seemed content to be an Old Lady. But if that carried more weight than being married in their eyes, what did that mean?
I had to talk to Rooster. He hadn’t said anything about either of those things.
He said if I wanted kids, he’d have them.
But we didn’t really hash out any commitments between us besides real estate, and that could easily change.
Hell, marriage could change. But Mama Hen’s words seemed like a strange warning.
If I became his Old Lady, was it truly ‘til death do us part?