“She’s not my mother,” Moses reiterated. “She never was a mother to me or Albany. Shit, you weren’t a father either.”
Allison scowled. “You always have something to say, Moses. You were the problem. In trouble all the time. Talking back. Disrespecting me and our house.” She glared at me. “And you? I—”
“Allison, watch your words. You got one more time to disrespect my sister.”
“Or you’ll what?” she taunted.
Moses chuckled. “You better get her, Dad,” he warned. “Somehow, I don’t think you want her to find out your secrets.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Don’t test me.”
My father sat up straight. “Allison, let it go.”
A hint of fear flashed in Allison’s eyes. “What is he talking about, Greg?”
I wanted to know the answer to that question as well, but I was content to let this play out.
My dad shifted uncomfortably. “It’s nothing. This is not the time or place to entertain him.”
Moses pressed his palm against the table. “That’s what I thought.”
My father let out a heavy sigh. “Albany, your mother’s right. You can’t just walk away from your marriage without trying to fix it.”
“So I can end up like her?” I pointed at Allison. “Bitter?”
“How dare—”
“Allison, stop,” I said. “You know what, I’m done. I don’t need this. And I don’t need you.” I glanced at my father. “Or you. I’ve been living my life without you practically my entire life and I—” My phone buzzed. I glanced at my screen.
Ms. Tea posted again. I quickly scanned the post and my blood ran cold. She’d posted three pictures of Wes—and an unfamiliar woman. They were smiling at each other. His hand was draped over the back of her chair. They were at a restaurant because food and drinks were on the table. The caption was simple.
Busted? #HarpoWhoDisWoman
#BatchelorShenanigans
I hated it. Worst of all, I hated the way I felt in that moment. Jealous.
“You alright?” Moses asked.
Counting to ten, I blew out a calming breath. “I’m fine.” I turned my attention back to my parents. “My life is none of your business. I don’t have to explain my actions to you. I don’t care what you think anymore.” I stood, dropped my napkin on the table. “Let’s go.”
Grandma approached us, eyeing us hesitantly. “What’s going on?”
“Mo is going to take me home.” I gave her a hug. “Love you.” My gaze drifted over to Granny Joyce, who was tapping furiously at her phone screen. I tilted my head and studied her movements. She was so engrossed in her phone that she didn’t seem to realize Grandma had come over here.
“Pooh?” Grandma called. “Are you okay?”
Forcing my attention away from Granny Joyce, I glanced back at my parents again, before addressing Grandma’s question. In the past, I would’ve made up a nice excuse to leave, but I didn’t have it in me to lie. “No,” I admitted. “Your son sucks. And so does his wife.”
“Olivia, you can’t believe everything she says,” Allison said. “Darrell told us she left for no reason.”
Grandma waved her off. “Oh, shut the hell up. She shouldn’t have married that man anyway, just like Gregory should’ve left your stuck-up ass in that strip club. I remember when my son married you. You strolled into my house wearing a fake Coach purse, too-tight clothing, and a nasty attitude. The only thing that’s changed is your bag is genuine leather, not pleather. Now, you walk around here like you’re so holier-than-thou when you’re living off the moneyIgave my son. Because it certainly wasn’t his dead father who supported his dreams.”
“What about the estate?” my father asked. “I’m entitled to a portion of—”
“Nothing.” Grandma took a sip of water. “Your father was as broke as you are.”
“I don’t understand,” he responded. “What do you mean?”
“It’s not for you to understand. The only thing you need to know is I’m not going to take kindly to you letting your wife talk to my baby like she’s crazy.”
