Chapter 20
“ I could have ordered breakfast, beautiful.”
“But I love cooking in your kitchen and it’s pancakes and sausage. This is easy.”
“Real easy, Daddy,” Aryel chimes in.
She really likes cooking with Truce and I love to see it. While her little friends wait patiently in the theatre room, she’s cutting strawberries and blueberries. They actually slept in and didn’t wake up until around ten.
Because Aryel is ear hustling our conversation, I lean in closer to Truce and whisper in her ear this time. “You put in so much work last night. You should have let me order breakfast.”
“You put in work too,” she replies with a smirk. “So, let me cook. It’s almost done anyway.” She leans up and pecks my lips. “Go get the girls, please.”
I leave my two hearts in the kitchen and journey upstairs. As soon as I walk into the room, they giggle. Apparently, I’m funny to all of them. After I turn off the screen, I grab each of their bags and we all head downstairs. Their pink pancakes with faces made out of berries and whipped cream are plated and waiting on them, causing more giggles and high-pitched squeals.
Thankfully, there are regular, non-pink pancakes on the two plates at the island for me and Truce. I’ll leave the pink ones to my little princess and her court of friends.
Around noon, the parents start arriving and by one, my house is back to normal. Truce, Aryel, and I are chilling on the sectional in the family room and the moment is perfection. The TV is on but I’m barely watching it because I’m fixated on them. Truce is dozing off, head leaning on the arm of the sectional and Aryel’s head is on Truce’s lap as she sleeps. Beautiful.
A notification from security at the gate on my handheld disrupts my gazing so I pick it up from the table. Maybe one of the girls left something behind. The guest name causes me to sit all the way up, Aria Goode.
The fuck!
The last time that we talked, her trip here wasn’t confirmed and I haven’t heard shit from her. What the hell is she doing here? Furious, I grab the handheld and leave the family room. I walk to the foyer and answer the gate.
“Let Aria Blake in.” I hate that she hasn’t changed her damn name.
A million fucking thoughts run through my mind as I wait in the foyer for Aria. Same shit, different damn day. Nothing has changed with her; she hasn’t changed. Popping up here with no communication is her m.o. No call or text to confirm her trip. No calls or texts at all since the last one. Nothing. This inconsistent shit doesn’t work for me and it damn sure doesn’t work for Aryel. She deserves consistency at the least and Aria can’t even give her that.
On my handheld, I see a beat up Honda pull into my driveway, definitely not a rental. I watch until Aria gets out of the passenger side. The trunk pops open and she walks to it, pulls out two suitcases, then rolls them to my door. The visor on the driver side is down so I can’t see who’s driving. Whoever it is doesn’t drive off and the car engine isn’t killed either. I open the door and step into the frame before she can knock or ring my bell.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“Damn, not happy to see me, Rex. It’s been a minute,” she says, smirking.
“Over two and a half years and you didn’t tell me you were coming like I asked.”
“I told you I had tickets. The hotel is still a problem but I knew you would have space. You don’t do anything small. Besides, I need to spend as much time as I can with my baby. I’m staying here and Brown is going to a hotel in the next town over,” she says with too much damn audacity.
“Aria, you are delusional as fuck if you think I’m gonna let your ass stay here. That’s not even a fucking option.”
“So you’re okay for me and your daughter to stay at some cheap ass shit?”
“Aryel has a home and she ain’t leaving it.”
“What?” she yells. Her hands drop from the handles of her bags and she rushes toward me. “Aryel! Aryel! Mommie’s here, baby!” she yells as she tries to bogart her way into my house. I step out and block her. Naturally, she can’t get around me but that only infuriates her and causes her to yell even louder. “Aryel! Rex! Let me see my damn daughter.”
“Ay! Stop yelling,” I warn and she dramatically falls to the ground.
Her screaming doesn’t stop either. She just adds fake crying with the shit. “Let me see my daughter!” she screams and I just shake my damn head.
“I’m not 'bout to deal with this or you. Leave my fucking property now before I force you to leave,” I bark. When I turn to walk back into the house, Aryel is standing in the frame crying. Truce runs up behind her and wraps an arm around her. While holding her, Truce gently coaxes Aryel back into the house. “Fuck!” I grit, pissed off. Aria’s stupid ass yelling must have woke them up and now Aryel’s crying. “Fuck!”
“Aryel! Aryel, Mommie’s here!” Aria cries out and I turn back to her.
Infuriated at this whole bullshit scene, especially my baby’s tears, I’m over it, over Aria and I want her gone now. So I rush her and glare down at her. Never in my life have I or would I put my hands on a woman but I swear Aria has me rethinking that shit for a hot second. However, I refrain. I refuse to let her antics change who the fuck I am.
“Get yo’ ass up and leave before I drag you back to that damn car,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Who the fuck is that!” she hisses and for a second her question throws me then I feel Truce’s hand on my back.
“Who I am isn’t important; what he said is. He asked you to leave and that’s exactly what you need to do. Right now,” Truce says sternly and that shit makes my fucking heart skip a beat.
“I’m not going anywhere without Aryel.”
“The fuck you?—”
The silencing of the Honda’s loud engine and the opening of the driver’s door distract me. Some big ass nigga hops out with too much fucking aggression and he rushes over to us. Aria, still on the damn ground, reaches her arm out as if to stop him before he steps to me.
“Brown, baby! I told you to stay in the car!” she yells.
When I glare into his beady, bloodshot eyes, I quickly realize this nigga ain’t worth shit. His jumping out of the car was not a flex. He ain’t about to do shit and Aria’s arm merely gave him an excuse to do what his fear wanted to, stop and stay his ass away from me and mine.
“Hah. You told me the shit was gon’ be easy is what you told me,” he scoffs.
Aria practically leaps up and gets in his face, pushing him. “Brown! Go back in the damn car,” she snaps.
“Fuck that. It’s hot in the bitch. I drove twelve fucking hours and want the fucking money. Go get it.”
“What money?” I question.
Neither of them answers me. Instead, Aria speaks to him. “Brown!”
He grabs Aria’s arm roughly then pushes her forward. Instinctively, I step forward but Truce locks her arm with mine, temporarily keeping me in place. Aria may have me fucked up right now but I’m not going to let this nigga or any nigga hurt a woman in my presence.
“Ay,” is all I say but he gets the warning.
He cowardly shifts one leg back, letting me know he’s heeding my warning. Aria shakes her head then smooths her hand down her shirt. Timidly, she steps to me.
“Can we talk?” she asks.
“As long as you leave afterward, I’m listening,” I tell her but my eyes never leave the nigga.
“Alone,” she says and Truce huffs.
“She’s not going anywhere. Talk, Aria.”
After rolling her eyes hard, Aria shifts, angling herself more toward me. She glances back at him and when she turns back to face me, her head drops a little.
“I didn’t catch a flight. We drove here and we don’t have any money to get back,” she begins and I shake my damn head. The words out of her mouth are ridiculous but they don’t surprise me at all. “I’m between jobs and Brown just got hurt at work. We don’t ne?—”
“None of this has shit to do with me,” I say, cutting her off. Her long ass sob story doesn’t move me at all and I don’t want to hear the shit. “Get your bags, take yo’ ass back into that car, and you and him get off my property. Now, Aria. I’m over this shit.”
“Twenty grand and you can have her,” she blurts out.
“What?”
“I need this money. Twenty grand and I’ll leave. I won’t ever call, text, or try to see Aryel again. You can have her,” she says and I swear I blank the fuck out.
The little space between her and me is instantly destroyed and I’m in her fucking face. Truce tries pulling me back but fails. Aria is so close that I can feel her heart bursting in her chest.
“I knew you were something when you left her with me but I didn’t think you could be this fucking low. But let’s get something clear, right fucking now. I have Aryel; I have always had her. You barely being in her life was because I made a stupid ass mistake to allow that but that shit ends fucking now. As far as my daughter is concerned, you don’t exist anymore.”
“B-b-but…I can…take you...t-to court,” she stutters.
“And do what? Get custody? Visitation? No judge alive will take her from me and give her to you.”
“Fuck you,” she yells then jumps back. “Fuck you and fuck Aryel. I never wanted to have a baby any?—”
Aria’s words are cut short by Truce’s hand slamming into the side of her face. It happens fast and hard, catching all of us off guard, especially Aria. With a look of horror and pain on her face, she raises her hands to the spot.
“You don’t deserve Aryel!” Truce grits, speaking up for my baby girl.
That shit is sexy as hell and I just want to pull her feisty ass into my arms but it’ll have to wait because the nigga Brown makes the stupid ass decision to step over to us.
“Nigga, check yo’ bitch,” he has the nerve to say.
I’m taken aback at first because just fifteen seconds ago he was falling back when I only said one fucking word. But now his ass found some courage somewhere and has the nerve to step. So I give him just what the fuck he’s asking for, a two-piece combo. I jab him with my less forceful left and he yelps like a wounded dog. Before he can recover, I lay his ass out with a rear uppercut from my right. I grin internally at the satisfaction of hearing something crack in his mouth on contact.
Aria screams as soon as his bitchass hits my pebbled driveway. She rushes down next to him and leans in to see if he’s still breathing. When she realizes that he is, she jumps up and angrily screams, “You could have killed him!”
“And I will if you or him ever come back here,” I warn, meaning every damn word. Without saying shit else, I step around her and over the nigga, grab her bags and roll them to the trunk. I leave her with Truce, grinning as I do. When I slam the trunk, Brown starts to move. Grunting, he clumsily lifts up on his knees. Aria rushes to him, drapes his arm over her shoulder, then struggles to help him up. “Leave, my nigga, and stay the fuck from round here,” I tell him. Then I look at Aria and shake my head in disgust.
I step to Truce and she walks into my arms and latches her arms around my neck. With my arms resting on her lower back, I embrace her as I watch Aria help him into the passenger seat then get into the car and drive off.
“So that’s her?” Truce asks, sarcastically.
“Yeah.”
“Wow,” is all she says but I know that one word covers many more adjectives. Her arms fall from my neck then she lightly grabs my left arm. “Does it hurt?” she asks with so much concern.
“Does this, slugger?” I counter with a grin while grabbing her right hand. “I didn’t know you were a fighter.”
“She was foul as hell and I got tired of her mouth. What kind of shit was that for her to say about Aryel? I wanted her to shut up.”
“Thank you,” I say and she shakes her head.
“Don’t thank me for that ’cause I should have beat her ass. You ready to go in though?”
“How bad is she?” I ask.
Aryel’s tears fucked me up. I knew then I was going to cut Aria off. Her stupid ass words and only confirmed that shit. Monday morning, I will go see my attorney and do what I should have done when she left, terminate her parental rights. I want her all the way out of Aryel’s life.
“Calm but upset. I took her upstairs. She’s in her room. She was crying because she thought she had to go with her.”
“She doesn’t have to worry about that.”
“So go tell her that.”
We walk back into the house and Truce walks to the family room while I head upstairs to my baby girl. She’s laying across her bed so I walk over and sit next to her. When she lifts her head, her little swollen eyes damn near break me. I lean in, kiss her forehead, then lift her. As soon as she’s on my lap, she throws her arms around me and cries on my shoulder. Gently, I rub her back and try to soothe her.
“Don’t cry, baby girl. Everything is fine; you don’t have to cry,” I say and she nods.
“I don’t want to go with her, Daddy,” she cries.
“You don’t have to, baby. Ever. She’s gone and she ain’t coming back. I promise you that and don’t I always keep my promises?”
“Yes.”
“Then stop crying. It’s all better now.”
She sniffles and squeezes me tighter. Her cries slowly fade and I hold her until they end. I slipped up when I let Aria back in our lives. That’s on me and I’ll have to live with that horrible decision. However, I will not make it again. Aria isn’t worth not one of my baby girl’s tears.
I t took the rest of spring break for Aryel to really get over that Aria bullshit. The day after that bullshit with Aria, I took a day off from the store and we had a daddy-daughter day. We went to Custom Plushies, where she customized and built a stuffed princess and a fish. Afterwards, I let her fill up a basket of books at her favorite bookstore, Kaley and Kiley’s Place. I did my best to overshadow that one day with better memories.
Today, she’s getting her hair washed and braided. Although Lyra really fumbled as our sister, she hasn’t failed at her auntie role. Yesterday, she reached out to Aryel and this appointment was set. Lyra actually picked Aryel up from school and brought her to the salon. I just left the store and now I’m pulling up to the salon to scoop her.
When I walk into the salon, as usual, April, the owner, hawks me down as I walk to Lyra’s station. She has been on me since I started bringing Aryel in to get her hair done. Although I’ve never fucked with her, she doesn’t let up.
“Always good to see you, Rex,” she says flirtatiously. “Mmhm.”
She winks after faking a moan and all the ladies in the chairs laugh, even my sister as she removes the drape from Aryel’s neck. As I approach, Lyra pumps her chair up then turns it so Aryel can see her hair in the mirror. Her entire face smiles as she examines her hair in her reflection.
“I have hearts! I like these. Thanks, Auntie,” she gushes.
“You’re welcome, twin.”
“Daddy, you like it?”
“I love it. Does it hurt?” I question because the two braided hearts on each side look like they would hurt and I don’t want Aryel in pain.
“No. Auntie don’t hurt me, Daddy.” Aryel runs her hand down the braids hanging from the ponytail then she shakes her head to sling them around. Her hair is getting so long.
“They are not tight, Rex. I got this,” Lyra says. She places her foot on the chair and it drops. “Why don’t you go up front so Niecy can take pictures for my Cliqued page,” she tells Aryel.
“No face on the pictures. Cover your face with your hands,” I add.
“I know,” she says with a little eye roll that I catch but let slide.
Lyra’s wandering eyes and fidgeting say she wants to talk. I’m just not too sure if I want to listen. If Romelo is anywhere in the picture or with her, not only is that nigga a dead man walking but my relationship with my sister wouldn’t exist anymore. The image of her in that hospital bed with her face barely recognizable and her body bandaged will always make me despise him. And Dax doing time behind that shit makes me want to put him to sleep permanently.
“How much I owe you?” I ask and she responds with her own question.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“I got five,” I say although I have an hour.
It’s the end of cookie season and this afternoon, the patches will be announced and awarded. Based on the sales numbers, Aryel is definitely getting the Top Cookie Seller patch this evening at Gravity Zone for the troop celebration.
“I’ll take whatever you give me. Let’s go in the back.”
I glance to the front and see Aryel posing for pictures with both hands covering her face. Then I follow Lyra to a small break room in the back of the salon. She walks over and stands in front of the refrigerator. While tossing a comb back and forth between her hands, she props her head back on the fridge.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“Romelo is gone,” she utters.
“But why the fuck was he here in the first place?”
“I don’t know. I guess I was just lonely. Stupid but lonely as hell. One morning, I woke up and he was in my DMs. It was simple good morning messages and reels at first and I ignored them. But he was persistent. The DMs came every day and I responded. It was easy, familiar, and some attention. Believe it or not, men aren’t checking for women with fucked up faces.”
“You can barely see it, especially when your hair is like that.”
She brushes her hair hanging down the left side of her face then pushes it behind her ear. Her scars have come a long way and with hair and makeup, they’re practically invisible.
“But they are here,” she sighs. “He caught me when I was just having a bad few weeks and he used my lowered self-esteem to ease his way back in and I stupidly let him.” She drops her head then slumps her shoulders. “He looked good and was saying all the right shit but his old self quickly returned the night we left the party.”
“Did he put his hands on you?” I ask, fuming at the thought.
Her head shoots up and while staring into my eyes, she quickly answers, “He tried but I didn’t let him this time. My pepper spray in his eyes and knife in his hand sent him back to Florida. I’m so sorry. So sorry. I should have never brought him to the house. Rex, please forgive me. Momma and Daddy did. Please. I miss my brothers.”
Hearing her beg is already too much so when a tear streams down her cheek, I cave. She’s my little sister and I love the hell out of her. It hurts me to see her hurting like this, so I step to her and pull her in for a hug.
“Ay, stop crying. I forgive you.”
She sighs, relieved, then sinks her head into my chest. “I love you,” she utters.
“I love you too.”
When we end our embrace, she steps back then asks, “Can you talk to Dax for me?”
“I’ll try but you’ve gotta understand how he feels.”
“I do and I’ve tried to tell him that I do but he isn’t answering me. Just talk to him, please. He listens to you.”
Not about this, I think and keep it to myself. Instead, I tell her what she wants to hear. “I’ll talk to him.”