Chapter 5 #3
“Fuck that, Khaleesi tried to kill me with the flu. Plus y’all don’t have to admit it.
I know she put those fuckin’ iguanas in my rental.
Ion wanna hear this shit for real. Look at my motha fuckin’ eye,” Xain leaned closer to the camera, giving me a better view of his battered face.
I can’t breathe out my nose; my chest hurts like a motha fucka when I try to breathe,” Xain ranted for a moment before he started coughing.
“Now look who’s choking on his phlegm. Sounds like pneumonia is about to handle my lightweight!” Khaleesi shouted across the kitchen island.
“See, this hoe should be charged with attempted murder! She’s trying to kill me, and I’m supposed to just take this shit?”
“Aye, man!” I roared, over their bullshit. “If y’all can’t get along and are going to keep acting like fucking toddlers, one of y’all is going to be without a job. If I wanted to referee kids, I would put Yarissa and Fallon on payroll.”
Xain coughed into the phone again before the call disconnected. Khaleesi placed her hand over her chest and offered me a pair of puppy dog eyes.
“You would pick that nigga Xain over me?” Khaleesi questioned in a dramatic tone, with her face fake screwed up. “I know when I’m not wanted.” She took a deep breath and pushed the half-eaten plate away from her.
“Khaleesi, please,” I called her out. “The shit is ridiculous. I love both of y’all.
Y’all are both family, and you are both great at your jobs, but I can’t have y’all drama bleeding into my shit.
Now Xain is going to be down for days, and Duke is going to have to step up for a third time in what? Two weeks! This shit gotta stop.”
“Xain is a demon, so I’ll start bringing around holy water, and I will try my best to ignore him from now on,” Khaleesi promised.
“I appreciate that, Khaleesi. Y’all be giving me PTSD. I be feeling like I have Yarissa and Fallon together when y’all cross paths. Y’all bicker just like them. They are eight and nine! Stop acting like elementary-aged kids.”
“Ohhhh Big Brudddddder!” Yarissa sang behind me, and my neck snapped around, forgetting whatever I was previously saying.
I was just talking shit about Yarissa, then here she came, her tiny twig-sized legs moving rapidly towards me.
The oversized silver and blue Cinnamon Roll bookbag bounced on her back with each step.
Yarissa wore her navy pleated skirt and white collared uniform shirt with her hair pulled up into two afro puffs.
“Wassup baby sis?” I stepped in Yarissa’s direction, meeting her halfway.
“Big Brudder, I just told Milly I was going to call you as soon as I got in here because she’s playing. But you came to see me in person,” she bubbled, showing off a grin that was missing her right canine tooth.
“Yarissa, please,” Amill waved her off.
“What were you going to call me for?” I inquired.
“To beg!” Amill shouted, continuing into the kitchen. “What Mama Marissa made? I know that’s why everybody is over here.”
“Salmon and avocado salad,” Khaleesi announced, shoveling more food into her mouth.
“You have ice cream on your shirt. Amill picked you up from school and took you to get ice cream, but you ain’t call me?”
“Yes, but then Milly wanted to act broke,” Yarissa called her out. “I should’ve called you Big Brudder.”
“Girl, wasn’t nobody acting broke,” Amill interjected.
“What she made you pay for your own ice cream?” I pried.
“No. I asked her to buy me a few Beanie Babies to add to my collection, but she told me, ‘that’s too much money, I’m not paying for that.’” Yarissa mocked her voice, talking with her hands just like Amill would.
I burst out laughing, always entertained by the two.
“I’m absolutely NOT paying twenty thousand American dollars for some stuffed animals,” Amill refuted, tilting her head to the side.
“A twenty ball?” I sputtered, eyes blinking rapidly while I peered down at Yarissa.
Since she was a baby, Yarissa loved stuffed animals.
Build-A-Bear hated to see her coming. The year prior, we shut down Build-A-Bear so Yarissa and her friends could make stuffed animals.
She had a massive teddy bear-shaped cake, and I remembered Mama and Yaseer gifting her an assortment of teddy bears in a glass case that Yarissa and her friends went wild over.
I thought Jameera and I bought the most expensive bear known to man when we pulled up with the $2,000 Build-A-Bear with the Swarovski crystals. Apparently, we weren’t.
“That’s how much those stuffed animals they bought you for your birthday cost?” I questioned.
“They aren’t just stuffed animals; they are vintage,” Yarissa explained, pulling out her phone where she had a presentation queued up for me to go along with her argument.
“This collection has every Billionaire Bear ever made! I’ve heard Milly and mommy bragging about buying vintage purses that cost ten times more. ”
A picture on the slide showed Amill and Mama with the aforementioned purses and the steep price tags in bold red.
“Plus they wear those expensive purses outside. My vintage toy collection is locked up in the house at all times. Your purses could be snatched or stolen at any time.”
The next slide displayed pictures of her toy collection with the words safe and secure above them, and then pictures of a man snatching purses.
“An early birthday gift, please? And I don’t expect a gift on my birthday. Plus, these bears are cheaper than the bear you bought me for my birthday last year. This collection comes with twenty bears, which makes them the low price of one thousand a piece.”
Yarissa proudly beamed, batting her lashes.
“You make some great points. Where do I need to go to buy the vintage Beanie Babies?”
“I’m going to send you the link for the seller.”
“I’ll get them since you got all A’s on your last report card,” I promised.
“Yay! I have to get my iPad so I can send you the link. That’s where I saved the link,” Yarissa shrieked. Gripping the straps of her backpack tightly, she ran towards the stairs, her little feet pounding as she raced up them.
Yarissa and Amill’s relationship was so funny to me because they were the same fucking person.
Both spoiled rotten. Hated hearing the word no.
Thought batting their long natural lashes would finesse anybody into anything.
I’d seen Amill bat her eyes just like that to Yaseer to get her way.
Plus they had the same face. It was scary.
I couldn’t understand how Amill could tell her twin no.
“I picked her up from school, let her ride with the top down, and got called broke immediately after. See if I pick you up again anytime soon,” Amill shouted behind Yarissa.
“Mmmmm Hmmmm. I’ll see you next week at pick up, Milly,” Yarissa sang without breaking her stride.
Yaseer came sauntering through the sliding glass doors with his empty plate grasped tightly in his hand. He sauntered over to Amill and placed a kiss on the side of her forehead.
“Hey, beautiful.”
“Hey, daddy,” Amill greeted him, then placed both hands on her hips. “Why does Yarissa have a credit card? I had to ask you for money until I was eighteen because you didn’t want to give me a credit card. Now my eight-year-old sister has a credit card?”
“Man, gone on, Amill,” Yaseer laughed. “You know that ain’t nobody but Marissa’s doing. If it were up to me, she wouldn’t have one either. But Yarissa only takes the card when she goes on field trips.”
“What’s her limit?”
“Why you hating Milly?” Yarissa whined, rushing back down the stairs with her iPad in hand. “Plus, I’m almost nine!”
Amill rolled her eyes and walked over to Khaleesi to hug her. “Hey Khaleesi, I’m glad to see that you’re feeling better.”
“Thank you,” she chirped, eating her salad and silently watching the drama.
“Aye, I need to speak to you in private,” I advised Yaseer.
“Come to my office. I need to grab my laptop,” Yaseer nodded towards the stairs.
My phone vibrated again before I could take a step. “Wait! Big Brudder, did you get the link?” Yarissa hopped into my path.
I looked down at my phone to confirm the link came through.
“Yeah, I got you. I’mma order them when I get home tonight.”
“Thank you, Q! You are the best,” she chirped, wrapping her small arms around me.
“You’re welcome.”
I lifted Yarissa off the ground and smothered her with kisses, forcing jovial giggles from her. When I set Yarissa back on her feet, she snatched up her iPad, which had fallen to the floor when I picked her up. “I’m about to call my bestie Fallon and tell her.”
Shaking my head, I continued towards the stairs behind Yaseer. We went into Yaseer’s office, and he turned to me.
“You look nervous? Something wrong?” He inquired.
I closed and locked the door behind me while Yaseer rounded the desk.
His arms were folded across his chest, and those bushy eyebrows dipped into a deep V.
I don’t think the concerned father expression would ever leave Yaseer’s arsenal.
That shit was embedded in his DNA. After a few seconds of pushing Yaseer over the edge, I pulled the velvet box out of my pocket and extended my hand across the desk.
Yaseer’s concerned facial expression morphed into an exultant grin.
“You about to propose, nigga?” Yaseer inquired, snatching the ring box and pulling it open.
“Shhhhhhh! Not a single woman in this house would be able to hold water if they heard you,” I placed my finger to my lips.
“My bad,” he whispered. “So this is why you randomly asked me to connect you to my jeweler. You didn’t want Sam all up in your business.” Yaseer surmised, referring to Jameera’s uncle, who was my usual jeweler.
“Yeah. I didn’t trust Sam not to tell James or Jameera. We all know he likes to drink and show his ass,” I nodded, watching Yaseer admire the engagement ring.
“I don’t know how you trust that nigga at all. I ain’t liked him since your prom night, and I never will. He came up to me at your birthday party trying to start a conversation. I almost knocked his ass out again,” Yaseer informed me.