3. Blake #2
After Scotty left my office, Mrs. Joanne came in to bother me about who he was.
Between her and my mother, I wasn’t sure who wanted me to be in a relationship more.
They both tried on multiple occasions to hook me up with men they thought would be a fit for me.
There were a few times that I went on those dates, and I regretted it every time.
My father never said anything about my dating life.
He told me that he was fine with me being single for the rest of my life if that was what I wanted.
The trauma that I went through when I lost my son weighed on me heavily.
There were times when I realized how heavy it was on my parents as well, especially my father.
He’d never expressed it to me, but I could tell by his overprotectiveness of me after that.
My mother mentioned a few times how it affected him.
After I told Mrs. Joanne to leave me alone and mind her business, respectively, I left to go to Q’amie and Seneca’s house. This was the first time that I would see Cora since her janky-ass mama was sent to hell.
Like I knew she would, Cora greeted me with a new bracelet. “Blakey, do you like your bracelet? Keslie helped me make it.”
I lifted my arm toward the light. My head tilted side to side as I gazed at it. “Cora, the quality of this bracelet is superb. The clarity of these stones is incomparable.” I glanced down at her with slit eyes and a risen brow. “These aren’t blood diamonds are they, little girl?”
She erupted with laughter when I swooped her up in my arms and tickled her. Her big giggles soothed my heart. “Blakey, no! They’re not diamonds. They’re glitter!”
We laughed together. After I put her down, I glanced at the bracelet again. “Oh, wow! This glitter is beautiful!”
Cora’s face lit up. She was such a beautiful little girl. Her mother told us a while ago that she didn’t know who her daughter’s father was. I wanted to be surprised, but I wasn’t. It was known that Toyala had a friendly pussy.
“Thank you, Blakey. Guess what? Auntie Q’amie said that I can live with her as long as I want to!” Excitement hung from every word.
My eyes widened like I didn’t know that bit of information. This was the perfect time to dig into her feelings. “What! Are you going to stay? What about your mommy?”
Cora shoulders went up to her ears. “My mommy was mean to me one day, so she went away. I want to stay. I love Auntie Q’amie, Uncle Sen, and Leslie, and Keslie. They love me and are nice to me. I want to stay here. If I’m here, I get to see you more.”
“I would love that! I’m sorry your mommy had to go away,” I said sympathetically. Although I was the reason that her bitch ass mama had to go, I really was sorry that it had to play out that way.
“Uncle Sen said that sometimes, mean mommies just have to go away so that their babies can be happy and loved right. I like being here because no one touch me no more.” The last part of the sentence was a whisper.
Yep, I couldn’t do this. Toyala’s ass was already dead, and I wanted to find a necromancer to bring her ass back to life just to kill her again. “I’m happy to hear that because I want you to be happy and loved right. Hey, I heard there’s some ice cream in there. Go get it and two spoons.”
She glanced at Q’amie, who nodded her head with a smile. That was all Cora needed to book it to the kitchen. There was so much light in her just in the few days that she had been here.
“You are so good with her,” Q’amie complimented. She leaned forward in her seat on the couch. “God is going to still give you what you want, Blakeney.”
Ever since I told her my story one drunken night, that was her coined phrase to say to me every time she saw me.
It annoyed the hell out of me at first, but now I yearned to hear it.
There were days when I felt heavy, so I came here because I knew, eventually, she would say it.
God is going to still give you what you want, Blakeney.
The sound of rushed feet was heard. I turned to see Cora with a pint of ice cream in her hand and spoons. “Blakey! I got ice cream and three spoons. I got one for me, you, and your friend.”
The creases on my forehead tightened. “What friend? Q’amie doesn’t want any ice cream. Remember, she’s—”
“She’s lacta-in-tolerant. I know, but it’s not for her,” Cora said. She pointed toward the kitchen. “It’s for Scotty.”
My head snapped in the direction that she pointed so fast that my earring flew off. This tall, red nigga came out of the kitchen like he belonged. This nigga is wild!
“Slide over so I can get a spot near the ice cream,” Scotty said without thought. He picked Cora up, who laughed loudly, then sat in her spot before he sat her between us. He took the spoon that she handed to him.
My eyes traveled over to Q’amie. Her ass wore her little cutesy smirk as she ate her bag of chips. “Did you know that he was here?” I asked her.
With a cheesy smile, she responded. “I did know he was here. He got here about twenty minutes before you.”
“You said that you had plans, so now I do too. They just happen to be the same plans,” Scotty smugly said. “Cora, I thought you said you had cookie dough ice cream?”
She huffed then threw her hands up. “Scotty, I did not say that. I say that we had cookies ice cream.” Cora lifted the cookies and cream ice cream and showed him the label. “See!” I was sure she couldn’t read the actual words, but the picture on the pint was clear.
“Cora, let’s get a bowl so we can give them some alone adult time,” Q’amie suggested. She got up from her seat and reached her hand down to Cora. Like the traitor that she was, Cora took her hand and bopped her ass out of the room.
“Scotty, I’m confused. Why are you here?” This man in our few interactions had proven himself to be a complicated person.
He opened the ice cream, put his spoon in, then scooped some out.
With no regard to my question, he ate a few scoops of ice cream.
He responded when he was good and ready.
“I’m here because I can be. Seneca told me before I came to your office that you were coming here.
When you told me that you had plans, I knew it was here, so I made my own plans to be here. We can go eat after this.”
“You are determined that I am going to dinner with you tonight. You are funny,” I told him. “I don’t know how that works.”
He reached the pint of ice cream out to me. “For me to be so funny, I don’t see you laughing. That tells me ain’t shit that I said funny. Like I asked you earlier, where do you want to eat at?”
A Very Short Time Later
Girl . . .
I needed this girls’ night so bad. It had been decided in my mind that the people around me had slowly lost their minds.
We could start with my clients. They were already a challenge because of all of those pregnancy hormones.
There was a certain level of sensitivity and grace that had to be bestowed upon them.
Well, lately, all that grace had been bestowed and ran out.
Kaycee sent me an email to voice her hurt that I chose not to attend her high-saditty baby shower.
Keep in mind, I sent a top-of-the-line gift.
It was something that I didn’t put on her registry when I did it because I knew that I would buy it.
This was a common practice of mine. The items that I planned to buy my client, I never put on the registry.
Her email, in a roundabout way, said that she was offended that I felt that I could afford not to come.
She alluded to a potential loss of business because she would have to think hard as to whether she would refer her friends to me.
I must have read that email four times before I printed it to make sure it read the same with ink on the page.
Once I realized, yep, it read the same, I took it to my parents’ house so they could read it.
They read it, laughed, and told me to tell her to suck her placenta.
Marla was a lot often. When she said that, I clutched my pearls.
I really had some on. The only thing that made it semi alright was that there were a lot of beneficial nutrients in placenta.
Mothers often encapsulate their placenta to take like a vitamin.
I did what I thought was best and did not respond. If I had, it would have been brutal, and I would have certainly lost business. Worst of all, Grant could potentially become a single father if his wife responded to my response crazy. I tried hard not to cross my worlds, but sometimes, it happened.
On the other job front, it had been calm and hectic in the same breath. Calm because I didn’t have to get crazy with anyone, and everything flowed like it was supposed to. The hectic part was solely because of one human being. Scotty fucking McLeod!
I wasn’t sure what assignment Stitch was on, but I needed his ass to come back.
Even when it was calm, Seneca found reasons that required Scotty and me to have to be in each other’s faces.
We’d been to dinner a few more times since he ambushed my plans with Cora.
Well, they weren’t solid plans, but plans, nonetheless.
The inner skeptic in me wanted to find all the wrongs in Scotty, but it was hard. He was a solid nigga, and I hated that for myself in the aspect of I needed some real nigga dick.
His vibe reminded me of my father’s. His presence was known, whether he made it known or not.
When my father walked into a space, he commanded it.
The air in the room left to make room for him.
My father was a man’s man, and you knew it.
In my spirit, it felt like Scotty was the same, and that was scary for me.
I was attracted to this man, and I didn’t want to be.
“Blake! Girl, what you got going on over there?” Iesha’s voice bombarded my thoughts. Her ass was loud as hell.
My eyes rolled at her scrunched face. “Girl, I don’t have nothing going on. I’m chillin’ like the rest of y’all.”