As soon as my mama called for us to come eat, I helped my honey to the half bath to wash our hands before heading into the dining room and taking the seat beside her. The table was full of everything from baked mac and cheese, greens, yams, and potato salad to steaks, burgers, chicken, and hotdogs. I started her plate first while she told me what all to put on it until my mama entered.
“Oh, no, Bliss. I got Mama’s plate right here.” She pushed the plate I was making away and set down one that was full of vegetables and one piece of bland looking chicken breast.
“I know you fuckin’ lying! What the hell is this, Octavia? I ain’t eating this shit!” Honey immediately started going off, and I couldn’t say I blamed her. Nothing on that plate looked appetizing, and I wondered where it even came from since I hadn’t seen it when I passed through the kitchen.
My mama rolled her eyes and set her eating utensils down next to her. “Ma, you know the doctor told you to cut back on unhealthy foods to keep your blood pressure down. Don’t even start.” She walked off and took a seat across the table, close enough that she could keep an eye on her.
“So, y’all tryna starve me? If you’re tryna kill me for the inheritance, let me just tell you now that you’re not getting shit! I left everything to my angel babies, so you’re doing this for nothing.” Honey slammed her hand on the table, but my mama was already making her own plate, completely unfazed.
“Mama, you know ain’t nobody tryna kill you,” she said dryly. “And I don’t need your inheritance anyway ’cause I been got life insurance on all y’all.”
“Dang, really Ma?” I’d been laughing, but I quickly stopped when she said that shit In fact, the whole table went silent, and she had the nerve to look surprised.
“It’s responsible ,and now since you girls are in your 30s, you should be getting some, too, so you have something to hand down to y’all children.”
“Octavia, the girls aren’t thinking about kids right now, are you?” my dad quizzedm grilling us both.
While I quickly agreed, Essence looked like she’d swallowed her food whole. Thankfully, she recovered before our parents noticed, but I was definitely going to ask her about that shit later.
Unfortunately, we didn’t have a moment to ourselves for the rest of the night, and by the time we left, I was focused on getting in the shower and getting under some crisp sheets. I carried a plate wrapped in foil to my car and climbed behind the wheel, feeling good and full as the Summer Walker album I’d been listening to started blasting through the speakers. While I drove, I thought about calling Sosa and quickly changed my mind. I was having a good night, and the last thing I needed was a nigga disrupting it.
Jordan had finally stopped blowing me up, so I’d been in my healing era, but I was smart enough to know it was too soon to add another nigga in the mix. At least that’s what I kept telling myself. Truthfully, I was beginning to get bored being by myself, and while my sister and Micah were good distractions, they were not going to hold me at night. Well, I was sure if I asked one of them to, they would after talking a bunch of shit, but it wasn’t the same.
Finally pulling into the parking lot of my apartment, I gathered my things to head inside when my phone started ringing. I instantly squinted when My Hubby popped up on the screen and wondered if I’d accidentally called his ass since he saved the number but got an instant attitude when it hit me that I hadn’t. Obviously, he’d stolen my information with his sneaky ass. As annoyed as I was, I still found myself sliding theicon across the screen to accept his call before it could go to voicemail.
“So, you stole my number? What happened to letting me call you?” I asked as soon as the call connected.
He laughed lazily. “I waited on you for a minute, but this was my fail safe, and I’m glad I took it ’cause you was probably gon’ keep me on ice for another two weeks,” he said unashamed, and I couldn’t lie, I felt a little flattered.
Despite his ass lying, he had at least given me some time before blowing me up like most niggas would’ve. I shook my head at how low the bar was set but still didn’t hang up. I was clearly on some bored shit, but I guessed it wouldn’t hurt to entertain him on the phone.It’s not like you’re offering up the panties at least.
“Yeah, I probably was,” I admitted, finally stepping out of my car and hitting the locks. “Lucky for you, you’re a thief with impeccable timing.”
“Damn, Perfect. Baby, even when you give my ass an inch, you gotta hit me at the same time, too? What nigga’s ass I gotta beat that got you treating me like this?” There was still laughter in his voice, although I could tell he was serious for some reason.
It really took me a second to fight off the urge to tell him Jordan’s name, but I knew better than to talk about past traumas. Sosa seemed cool, but every nigga did in the beginning, and it’d be just my luck that I told him about how I’d been treated in the past, just for him to do the same shit eventually.
“I won’t say any one nigga did anything, but I’ve seen enough fuck niggas to be careful is all I’m gonna say about that,” I told him as I climbed the stairs to my building.
“Well, give me a list, and I’ll handle that shit then.” He was quick, and I couldn’t stop myself from smirking.
“Not you tryna turn me into an accomplice?” I’d finally reached my door and tucked my phone between my head and shoulder, so I could let myself in.
“Hell naw, I’d never get you caught up. I’m professional.”
“Oh, so you’re a thief and a hit man?” By then, I was fully invested in the game we were playing. I wasn’t even tired anymore. Instead of heading to my bedroom once I got inside, I dropped my plate off in the kitchen and went to curl up on my couch.
I could hear him shuffling around in the back and wondered what he was doing. “If you need me to be,” he said in a way that had me instantly believing him, even though I was a naturally doubtful person. Wanting to change the subject, I cleared my throat.
“So, umm, what are you doing right now?” I asked, kicking my sneakers off and tucking my feet under me. I’d been putting this conversation off, and now I couldn’t stop wanting to hear his voice in my ear.
“I’m at the crib. Technically, I’m off tonight, so I don’t got shit to do but watch some highlights before I go to sleep… unless you wanna come keep me company? We could Hulu and chill or something.”
Cracking up at him using the wrong streaming service, I shook my head like he could see me. “See, naw, it’s Netflix and chill, but I like how you just slick tried to get me over there when we don’t even know each other’s names.”
“Naw, I had it right. I ain’t fucking with Netflix and them high ass costs. At least Hulu got a bundle for the low. Plus, I be watching Abbott and shit, so I’m Hulu’d down. And we do know each other’s names, you’re Perfect, and I’m Hubby. Stop tryna play me.” I couldn’t help the giggle that erupted in my throat. Not only did he like my favorite show, but the nickname he’d given me had my stomach full of butterflies. “For real, though,my name is Santana, and I heard shorty call you Bliss, but I like Perfect better. That’s a nickname or something, though?”
“No, Bliss is my real name. I think my mama was high off Demerol when she named me,” I joked, glad that he hadn’t made the lame ass comment that most niggas did about my name being a stripper name. Niggas were definitely wild these days, but I knew it was from the bar being in hell. I’d already gone against everything I said out of pure boredom and the way a nigga’s voice sounded on the phone. I wasn’t going to give myself too much, though, because I was still in a vulnerable place.
