Page 29 of Welcome Home

“That’s what the fuck I’m talking about. Kee, you’re stubborn as fuck. I still love you and always will.”

My hands cupped the side of her face as we passionately kissed. I pulled back from the kiss because I wanted to make sure she ate. “Did you eat dinner already?”

Her head shook side to side. “No, we were going to order something. Neither of us felt like cooking.”

“Alright, let’s get to that.” I finally stood to my full height and pulled her from her seat on the bed. “Be prepared for your bestie to act a fool too.”

Kee laughed. “She’ll be happy. She’s called me everything but a child of God for that text.” Her shoulders shrugged. “Perhaps I was being a little irrational.”

I refused to acknowledge her statement. Her giggles were cute behind me as we left the room to go to the living room with Rome and Lula Ann. I was the first to walk in. When Kee walked in behind me, Lula Ann jumped up from her seat.

“See! I fuckin’ knew it. Baby, didn’t I tell you they’re gonna walk in there fake broke up and walk out engaged?” Her voice was loud and excited.

She let out this scream that made me flinch before she ran to Kee. They hugged each other for a few seconds. “Do you like the ring?” Lula Ann asked her after they finished their hug.

Kee glared at her with tight eyes. “I do. Have you seen it already?”

Lula Ann peeked over at me. “I have. I helped bighead pick it out. He was going to propose at y’all’s anniversary dinner, but here you went trippin’ today.”

Kee’s head slowly turned my way. “Really?” After I confirmed, she rushed into my arms. “I love you so much, and I’m sorry.”

There was silence for a moment. It was broken by Rome’s hand clap. “Congratulations! I’m so happy y’all got this shit together. We already ordered food. Y’all can go pack y’all shit so you can leave after dinner.”

This nigga. “We got you, bro.” I wasn’t going to even fight it. Besides, I planned to fuck the stubbornness out of my fiancée. It would be great to do that in the privacy of our home.

Some Time Later

Here We Go Again . . .

Mrs. Carter had officially made my list of people I wanted to move out. She was the kind of old lady that no one liked, including her husband. I wasn’t saying that just to say it either. The man literally told me that he couldn’t stand her, but she made a mean pot roast and left him alone during football season. Pot roast and a quiet football season held their marriage together.

For the past ten minutes, I flipped through the three complaints that she had about the stupidest shit. The one that stuck out the most was that she was upset that her trash wasn’t being taken. When I reviewed the surveillance tapes from her hallway, I saw that she wasn’t putting the shit out in time. By the time she had taken it out, they had already taken the trash from that floor. All residents were supposed to have their trash out no later than 8 p.m.

Today, tired was my middle name, and I didn’t feel like this bullshit. I had dialysis this morning, and it took more than usual out of me. Instead of following my first mind to go home, I came into the office. Now, I had to deal with this old hag about some stupid shit.

Her other complaint was about a missing package. The package was not missing. The delivery person dropped it off in the office, and I sent the corresponding email that told her that. The third complaint was about the smell of the neighbor’s food. Yep, she sent a damn complaint about the smell of Indian food.

Let me call her so I can go home. I picked up my office phone and called her number on file. She answered on the second ring. “Hello.”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Carter, this is Mazikeen. I wanted to call to settle the complaints that you sent in.” My tone was pleasant, but my attitude was shitty.

She sucked her teeth. “It’s about damn time. It took y’all long enough.” She literally dropped these complaints off yesterday.

We didn’t get too many complaints. Unless it was something serious, we handled complaints within three business days. God, keep me calm.

“I know you may be busy, so I’m going to go over them with you. First, your missing package is here in the office. It was delivered here and⁠—”

She didn’t let me finish. “Well, why didn’t someone tell me? There was something in that package that was time damn sensitive. Now I don’t have enough time to get it done.”

“Mrs. Carter, the package was delivered two days ago, and I sent you an email telling you that it was received. You can pick the package up whenever you’re ready.” I didn’t give a fuck about whatever was in the package that was time sensitive. She would be alright.

Her laugh sounded like a hyena, which was fitting because that was how she looked. “You should have called me to tell me that you had my damn package. What the hell do you people do in that office all day?”

If it wasn’t for her sweetheart husband, I would have found a reason to evict them a long time ago. Technically, I didn’t have to renew their lease, but I did. She had been a pain in the ass for six years now.

I took a calming voice. “That is not our process. All our processes are listed out in the lease you sign every year when you renew your lease. Let’s move to the next complaint, . . . the food smell. There is nothing that we can do about that. Residents have the right to cook whatever they want if it is legal.”

I knew she wouldn’t like that even more than the resolve of her first stupid-ass complaint. This lady groaned or growled. I wasn’t sure what it was. What sound do hyenas make?