7. Alisha #4
“An FBI agent came to the shop asking questions about Deuce today.”
I expected concern, shock, instead Shante looked damn near panicked. “What kind of questions?” she asked immediately.
“Why you look so nervous?”
“I’m not nervous.”
Yes, the hell she was. Rain drizzled harder around us while both of us stood there staring at each other awkwardly.
“You sure you okay?” I asked slowly.
“Yeah,” she replied quickly. “I just feel terrible.”
Then almost immediately she stepped backward.
“You should go before you catch something.”
The whole interaction felt rushed now like she desperately wanted me gone.
“Shante…”
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” she interrupted quickly.
Then before I could even fully respond she shut the door right in my face. I stood there on the porch staring at the closed door completely confused, because what the hell was that? Slowly, I walked back toward my car while rain soaked lightly through my jacket.
And with every step that uneasy feeling inside my chest kept growing, because now it wasn’t just Deuce acting strange Shante was too.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that everybody around me suddenly had secrets.
By the time I pulled away from Shante’s house, my nerves felt completely fried.
The rain kept falling lightly against the windshield while I drove through Detroit traffic trying to make sense of everything.
Nothing around me felt normal anymore, not Deuce, not Shante, not even my own thoughts. Usually I trusted my instincts, but lately I couldn’t tell if I was picking up on real problems or just driving myself crazy over little shit.
I glanced at the clock on the dashboard and realized it was almost time to pick Brittany up from my mama’s house.
Thank God, she picked her up on Fridays from daycare.
I genuinely needed a break today. The closer I got to the east side, the more familiar everything started feeling.
Old corner stores, kids riding bikes through neighborhoods.
People posted on porches despite the drizzle.
Detroit always had this rawness to it. And no matter how much money me and Deuce made over the years certain parts of the city still felt like home.
When I pulled up outside my mama’s house, the porch light was already on. Warm yellow glow shining against the rain I smiled a little because seeing that house always calmed me down some. The second I walked through the door; Brittany came flying around the corner.
“Mommy!”
I barely had time to put my purse down before she wrapped herself around my legs dramatically.
“There go my baby,” I laughed while scooping her up.
She smelled like cocoa butter and fruit snacks.
“Grandma let me eat ice cream,” she whispered loudly like it was a secret.
From the kitchen my mama yelled. “And she had ONE bowl before you start.”
I laughed, Mama walked into the living room drying her hands on a dish towel.
“You look tired,” she said the second she saw my face.
Of course, mothers always knew.
“I’m fine,” I replied automatically.
“Mhm.”
That “mhm” sounded exactly like mine too.
She took Brittany from me gently.
“Go finish watching your movie.”
Brittany skipped off toward the den while Mama looked back at me carefully.
“What’s wrong?”
And just hearing that simple question almost made me emotional unexpectedly. I sat down slowly on the couch while Mama settled into the recliner across from me. The TV played cartoons loudly in the other room while rain tapped softly against the windows. Everything felt calm here and safe.
“The FBI came to my shop today,” I blurted out.
Mama’s face changed instantly.
“The WHAT?”
I nodded slowly. “Asking questions about Deuce trucking company.”
Her brows pulled together immediately.
“What kind of questions?”
“About guns.”
Mama leaned back slowly while studying my face.
“And what did Deuce say?”
“That they just trying to mess with him because of his past.”
She didn’t answer right away.
“What?” I asked quietly.
Mama sighed heavily before folding her hands in her lap.
“Baby… sometimes men carry more baggage than we realize.”
I looked down at my nails while anxiety crept back into my chest again. “But it’s not just him,” I admitted softly.
“What you mean?”
I hesitated briefly before speaking again. “Everybody's been acting weird lately.”
Mama stayed quiet letting me talk.
“Shante distant.”
“Mhm.”
“Deuce secretive.”
“Mhm.”
“There was this woman at the shop…”
I trailed off because honestly, I still didn’t even know what exactly I was accusing anybody of. Mama watched me carefully for a second before finally speaking.
“Women know.”
I looked up slowly.
“What?”
“When something around you ain’t right,” she replied calmly. “Women know before proof show up.”
Deep down that’s exactly how I’d been feeling. “But I don’t know if I’m overthinking,” I admitted.
Mama laughed softly. “Baby let me tell you something.” She leaned forward slightly. “Backstabbing broads don’t walk around with signs on they forehead.”
My brows lifted a little.
“Sometimes the people smiling in your face be the same ones doing dirt behind your back,” she continued. “And sometimes you think you know folks until God decides to reveal who they really are.”
Something about the way she said that made chills crawl across my skin because lately it really did feel like little pieces of truth kept trying to surface around me.
“You gotta pay attention,” Mama added.
“To what?”
“Everything.”
I leaned back against the couch cushions slowly while her words settled over me. I had been noticing everything lately.
“You think Deuce hiding something?” I asked.
Mama sighed.
“I think men lie easier when women trust them too much.”
Damn the room got quiet after that, not an uncomfortable quiet but a reflective one. The kind that forces you to sit with thoughts you been avoiding. Then suddenly Brittany came running back into the living room holding her blanket.
“Mommy look!”
I smiled watching her twirl around in princess pajamas.
And just like that, the heaviness lifted a little. Mama looked at Brittany then back at me softly.
“Whatever it is,” she said quietly, “don’t ignore your spirit trying to warn you.”
And for some reason that sentence stayed with me the entire ride home.