14. Blessing #2
“Ain’t nobody talking about you, but you need to get your lil friend Mariah. Throwing shade at my girl unprovoked. You better handle it before I do.” Chanel said, rolling her eyes.
“What are you talking about? What don’t I know?” He said, confused.
“Check your Instagram,” I responded. I watched as he pulled his phone from his pocket and opened the social media app.
He smacked his lips, turning to look at me. “Ignore her. She just tryna get a reaction out of you. She ain’t shit to worry about.”
“Whatever, Saint.” I sighed, “I’ll call y’all back later.” I said before ending the call.
“I hope you’re not mad at me because of what she posted.”
“I’m not mad at you. I just don’t like drama. I could see if she was upset because she found out about us, and that’s her reason for being shady, but she doesn’t know about us, so it’s unprovoked. I’m not going to respond to her, though.”
“Good. Are you hungry? You were sleep for a while.”
“Yeah, I was about to get some groceries delivered so I can cook. Anything specific you want?”
“I been craving some fried chicken wings. Not the party wings, the whole wings. Some baked mac and cheese, and some cabbage. Damn, some honey cornbread too.” He said, rubbing his stomach.
I giggled, “You’re asking for a lot. But I guess I can do that.”
“I’ll help you. I told you I can throw down in the kitchen.”
“Alright, but the moment you start to piss me off, you’re getting put out of the kitchen.”
“Yes ma’am.” He said, softly kissing my lips before passing me his phone to order the groceries.
“Move, Saint, you’re chopping the cabbage wrong. Just finish shredding the cheese, please.” I shook my head, covering the bowl of seasoned chicken wings and pushing them to the side. His ass was cutting the cabbage too big for my liking.
“My bad, chef. You didn’t tell me how big to cut it.” He chuckled, smacking me on the ass.
“I didn’t think I had to. Ohhh, this is my song!” I picked up a spoon, using it as a microphone to sing along to Coco Jones ICU, “maybe I neeeed you, I breathe you, turning my heart blueee.”
Saint turned to look at me. “What the hell. Why didn’t you tell me you could sing?”
I shrugged, “It never came up. There’s a lot you don’t know about me, babe.”
“What else don’t I know about you?”
“You already know I can bake, I’m actually baking Sage’s birthday cake and all the desserts for her party this weekend.”
“Why you ain’t tell me you’re into hoodoo?”
I glanced at him as I stirred the cheese into the elbow noodles. “Who told you that?”
“Our grandmothers grew up together. She said Miss Josie made the best tea that’ll knock a cold right outta you.”
“I still make that tea. I can’t even remember the last time I’ve had a cold that lasted more than a day.” I covered the pan with aluminum foil before sliding it into the oven. “But yes, I am into hoodoo. That doesn’t bother you?”
“Nah,” He shrugged, filling the cast-iron skillet with vegetable oil.
“Good, cause I wouldn’t care if it did. It’s in my blood.”
“Tell me more about it. I didn’t know there was a difference between hoodoo and voodoo.”
“Voodoo is a religion. They worship spirits and do rituals. Hoodoo is a folk magic practice. We use natural elements like herbs for protection and luck. My family has always practiced hoodoo. People often confuse the two. Growing up, many people in the neighborhood called my grandmother a witch because they didn’t know the difference.
She has albinism, so she’s always looked different from everybody.
Her pale skin and blonde hair weren’t something people in our area saw often, so they feared her.
Her gray eyes didn’t help. Meanwhile, she’s the sweetest person you’ll ever meet. ” I explained.
“So why don’t you practice?”
“I wouldn’t say I don’t practice. I just focus on the healing and manifesting aspect. I ain’t out here doing tarot card readings and shit. I hate the witch jokes, so I don’t even tell people about that part of my life.”
“Did Sage’s dad know?”
I shook my head. “Not really. He’s only been around my grandma once. She hated him and banned him from coming around her. She knew his energy was bad from the beginning. She warned me about him, but I didn’t listen. Too busy being young and dumb.”
“Damn, I’m scared to meet her. What if she doesn’t like me?”
“I guess you better have good energy because I won’t be hardheaded this time around.” I laughed.
“So, you gone use those vocals at our wedding?”
“Who says I’m gonna marry you?” I asked. He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me into him. I circled my arms around his neck, pressing my lips against his.
“Baby, we locked in for life. On my mama, you gone marry a nigga.” He said, giving my ass a light squeeze.
“I’m not even your girlfriend yet, and you’re already talking about marriage.” I moved back to grab the bowl of chicken. I placed a few pieces into the seasoned flour bag, shook it to coat, and then lowered them into the oil with tongs.
“You’re not my girlfriend yet because you don’t want to be. I’m respecting your wishes and waiting until you’re no longer my physical therapist.”
“We only have a few more months left. You come out of your brace next week. You’re only going to need it when you’re cleared to practice with the team. Which will probably be within the next month. I don’t like us being a secret any more than you.”
“I can’t wait ‘til our date this weekend. I got some special shit planned.” He said, grinning as he stood at the stove, stirring the cabbage. The food we were cooking had the kitchen smelling so good.
“I’m excited to see what you have planned. How should I dress? I probably need to go shopping.” I poked my bottom lip out, grabbing my phone to find an outfit.
“Wear whatever you want, baby. Use my card.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.”
My phone buzzed on the kitchen counter just as I finished washing the last dish. I glanced at the screen and immediately grabbed it when I saw Mrs. Johnson calling. I dried my hands on the decor towel before answering.
“Hi, Mrs. Johnson.”
“Good evening, Blessing. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time. Are you free to speak?”
“Yes Ma’am. I just finished dinner. Is everything okay?”
“I just wanted to check on your progress with Mr. Simmons. How is his mobility progressing?”
“He’s ahead of schedule. Swelling is completely gone, range of motion is improving, and he should be cleared for light training soon.”
“Good,” she said, pausing for a moment. “You’ve always been one of my best therapists, Blessing. Even during your internship. That’s actually why I’m calling.”
Her tone caused my stomach to tighten. I gripped the counter and blinked a few times to calm my nerves as she continued speaking.
“When you work closely with high-profile clients, especially athletes, emotional attachment can occur. Recovery makes patients vulnerable. Boundaries can quickly become blurred before you even realize it.
I trust your professionalism, Blessing. But I want to remind you that maintaining a professional relationship is a condition of your employment. Crossing that line would leave me no choice but to terminate your assignment… and your position with the company.”
I cleared my throat and nodded, “I understand.”
“I’m not accusing you of anything,” she said softly. “This is simply a precautionary reminder. You have a bright future here, and you’re up for promotion. I’d hate for you to jeopardize that.”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
After the call ended, I stared at my reflection through the dark kitchen window. I could hear Saint’s laugh echoing from the living room. For the first time since things changed between us…guilt settled heavy in my mind.