Page 87 of Surrogate For My Best Friend’s Man 2

“Can we get chicken?”

“You always want chicken.”

“I like chicken.”

My mama laughed. “That’s your child.”

I grabbed Brittany’s little jacket. “Come on.” We ended up at a little restaurant not too far from my mama’s house. Nothing fancy, just me and my baby. I needed that but what I didn’t was no strange men walking into my shop talking about money and products I didn’t have. Just Brittany sitting across from me coloring on the kids’ menu like she didn’t have a care in the world. I watched her for a minute. Kids were lucky they didn’t know how fucked up grown folks could make shit.

“Mommy?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I get dessert?”

“You ain’t even got your food yet.”

“I know but I want a piece of lemon pound cake.”

“So why are we talking about dessert?”

“Because I really want a piece.”

I shook my head. “You are your daddy’s child.” The second I said it, her little face changed and she stopped coloring. “What’s wrong?”

She shrugged.

“Brittany.”

She kept looking down.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Look at me.”

She slowly looked up.

“When is Daddy coming home?” I sat back.

“I don’t know, baby.”

“Is he still at work?”

My heart dropped. I had been trying to explain everything in a way she could understand without telling her too much.

“Daddy isn’t at work.”

“Then where is he?”

I hesitated. “He’s somewhere he can’t come home from right now.”

“Why?”

“Because he has some grown up stuff he has to take care of.”

She frowned. “Did he do something bad?”