Fortunate
The next day…
“Oh, shit. Y’all got a dunk tank this year?” Viggo dropped a case of water near a bunch of coolers.
She felt better knowing that Viggo had a real emergency and that was why he left her hanging.
At the same time, she knew she was acting like a bitter baby mama after her conversation with Giselle on the way home.
She didn’t know why she was still in her feelings about the situation when things were going well with Viggo.
Surprisingly, he was a lot more thoughtful and attentive than she knew.
She hated comparing the two, but there was a big difference in how he handled her versus Heavy.
She always felt like she was intruding with him or forcing her and Pierre into his space.
His interactions with Giselle and the twins was so organic that it did leave her harboring jealousy.
“Yup.” Prischa simpered and turned to Henna with a laugh.
Rubbing his hands together with mischief in his eyes, Viggo bypassed Giselle standing at the table near where the food was set up, helping Remi, Lou, and Gem unpack.
In four hours people would start arriving, and Horace debated with Toussaint in the corner about their grill situation.
The two decided to have a cookoff and had selected judges and everything.
Toussaint argued that he had surpassed his father with the grilling skills, but Horace insisted he’d learned everything from him anyway.
“Who we dunking?” Viggo licked his juicy lips and grinned, flashing his diamond grill.
“Take a guess,” Henna threw out there.
“Horace?”
“Nigga, please!” his grandfather objected as Heavy strolled over with Harlee on his shoulders.
Heir strutted beside him in khaki cargo shorts, an orange tank top, and matching green Cloudnova 2 sneakers.
Giselle looked up from her duties and grinned when she spotted her man approaching with their kids.
She let them sleep in when Maisie came and swooped her up this morning, so she’d missed them.
The three matched in their orange and khaki, but Harlee’s hair was all over her head with just a headband with a bow attached.
At least he tried, and she probably fought him on anything else.
“Toussaint, I know you ain’t getting your cool ass in there.” Viggo pulled the black t-shirt he’d been rocking over his head.
Flexing his muscular arms in his wife beater, he pulled the blunt he’d rolled from behind his ear.
“Nah, muhfucka, that’s all you.” Heavy’s Pops aimed his grilling tongs at him.
Viggo stopped in the middle of lighting his blunt and took in all the peering eyes on him.
“Y’all got me fucked up!”
“Come on!” Prischa jested. “It’s five dollars for three pitches, and all the proceeds are going to the trip for the kids to Victory Park at the youth center this summer.”
“How about I just pay for them muhfuckas to go?” Viggo suggested, bringing the blunt between his lips and sparking it.
“Can you be a good sport? Please?” she pouted, moving closer to him seductively.
His blazing cocoa brown eyes danced over her frame, and his dick swelled, thinking about fucking her guts up again.
Lately, he’d been falling asleep and waking up in that good thang and had no complaints.
Prischa was easy to be with. She didn’t do the drama; she went to work and came home.
Occasionally, she and Henna would hit the streets, but she was a good girl.
Lady in the streets and freak in the sheets was reserved for bad bitches like her. Viggo had no complaints.
“Don’t be coming over here, throwing that shit, mama. Why a nigga always gotta be the scapegoat around this muhfucka?” he announced, looking around at the rest of his people.
“You always the one talking the most shit.” Heavy chewed on a carrot off the vegetable tray and grabbed Harlee, so he could set her on the ground.
“I’m doing one hour on that shit, then you gotta get somebody else to do it.”
“Ah, shit! All his old hoes gon’ be lining up to dunk his ass!” Henna cackled, and Viggo flipped her off. “Fuck around and be able to send these kids to Disney World!”
“Fuck outta here. I’m on good terms with all my old bitches.” Viggo took a pull from his blunt.
“Is that right?” Prischa rested a hand on her hip and cocked a brow in his direction.
“Not like that.” He slid his arm around her waist and offered her the blunt. “Chill.”
“All this standing around y’all doing, you can do some work any time now.” Remi came up to the table where Heavy was hugging Giselle from behind and whispering in her ear.
She was showing out in her biker shorts and sports bra. If he’d seen her leave the house this morning, he would have told her to bring her ass right back in to change. It was hot, and she knew she would have to shower and change later anyway, so she opted for workout gear.
“Volunteers don’t get paid, Rem,” Viggo said over his shoulder.
“They don’t eat either,” she countered.
“See, there she go threatening a nigga again.” Viggo shook his head, and Prischa passed the blunt back to him after a few puffs. “Cuz, help me get the rest of these chairs and shit from the car.” Viggo pulled away from Prischa, and Heavy did the same with Giselle.
“Mama, Petal wants to know where you want to set up y’all table?” Lou asked. “She said she ain’t sitting with Rebecca and Tawni this year.”
“Lawd, this woman.” Remi huffed and followed Lou down the block to find Petal.
“Time for a smoke break while these grills smoke.” Horace went into the inner pocket of his beach style shirt paired with a pair of khaki shorts and those old school wicker looking sandals.
He held up a joint the size of somebody’s finger and wandered off with Toussaint as Gem hopped up from a lawn chair with her phone in hand.
“Where are you going?” Giselle questioned.
“Solo’s down the street parking. I’m going to talk to him for a minute, dang.” Gem turned her nose up.
“You spending all your free time with him.”
“He’s my man,” Gem asserted.
“Is that right?” Giselle pushed her lips out.
“Yes. He’s even got a new place in Southwick, so he can be close. Don’t trip. I’m not quitting school or none of that, but… I like him. He likes me too.”
“Okay. Just… be careful,” Giselle replied.
“That’s it? No lecture or power point discussion?”
“Girl, you are grown. I can’t tell you what to do. All I can do is be there for you. If you’re happy, I’m happy. If he hurts you… I hurt him. Carry on.” Giselle flashed a half smile.
“You’re a little crazy.” Gem snickered before sauntering off.
Giselle still couldn’t shake how much she reminded her of herself.
A big part of her wished that she and Gem had grown up like sisters the way Maisie and Lou did.
The two of them had missed a lot of time, so now it was all about trying to make up for it.
Giselle checked the time on her Apple watch and saw that it was almost 12:30 p.m. She had done her part for the day, and Remi had plenty of help, so she wanted to run over to her house to shower and change into her attire for the day.
“Harlee! Heir!” she called out, looking around and not seeing either twin in sight.
She hadn’t turned her back that long. She shouted for both again, and when she got no answer, her stomach might as well have fallen to her ass. Instant panic set in. Henna picked up on her frantic position first, looking as if she was about to pass out from hyperventilation.
“Giselle, breathe. It’s okay.”
“They’re gone. Where are they?” she screeched, grabbing onto Henna’s arms tight.
Her knees buckled at the thought of her children being snatched up.
“What’s wrong?” Heavy demanded when he and Viggo got back with a stack of folding chairs from his truck.
“They’re gone.” Giselle turned and clung to him with blinding tears in her eyes. “He took them. Alonzo took them, didn’t he?”
“Shhh, what you talking about?” Heavy frowned as her nails dug into his skin.
“Our babies are gone!” Giselle broke down in his arms, nails digging into his skin.
“Alonzo didn’t do this. Trust me.” Heavy pulled her into his chest and held her there while peering around for his kids.
“We’ll start checking with the other vendors,” Prischa offered.
“Yeah. I’ll take the block row by row.” Henna stepped in with a steady, protective voice.
Before Giselle could even thank them, the two of them split from her and Heavy.
“I swear I didn’t turn my back that long. They were right there,” she wept into his shirt.
“Shhh. It’s okay. We’ll find them. I need you to hold it together right now though, princess.” He gently coaxed her. “Can you do that for me?”
Sniffling and quickly wiping her tears, Giselle nodded.
“Okay, let’s look for them.”
It seemed to her that they’d been searching forever, but five minutes later, Henna and Prischa walked over, holding a twin by each hand as they licked on ice cream cones.
Giselle broke away from Heavy and rushed toward them.
Falling to her knees, she pulled them both into a hug that nearly took all the breath from their little bodies.
“Where have you two been? What have I told you about wandering off?” she snapped.
Now that she knew they were both safe, an anger induced fear revealed itself.
“Mama, we heard the ice cream truck. All the kids ran, so we did too.” Heir shrugged as if that was just common sense.
Giselle laughed to keep from completely falling apart in front of them.
When they rushed past her to show Heavy their cones, she brought herself to her feet.
Heavy knelt to talk to them, and relief washed over her.
Somehow, she had formed a semi-circle with Henna and Prischa.
Hands on her hips, Giselle caught her breath and took in both women’s faces.
“Thank you.”
“Hey, they’re good. So are you. Kids wander off sometimes.” Henna reached out and gave her arm an assuring squeeze.
“Trust me. Pierre has gotten away from me more times than I’d like to admit.” Prischa snickered.
“Shit, me too.” Henna tittered.