Page 41 of When a Soul Cries

“What?” I asked, even though I already knew I was getting on her nerves.

“I was standing right there when the doctor said it.”

I pressed my lips together. “I know.”

“No, you don’t.” Zari’s voice softened, all the irritation disappearing from it. “Because I can hear you worrying through the damn phone.”

I pushed through the employee doors and headed toward the front exit, lowering my voice as another worker passed me. “Did she eat?”

“A little.”

I stopped walking. “A little ain’t eating.”

“She don’t feel good.”

“How little is a little?”

“Girl…” The way she dragged the word out told me she was probably rolling her eyes.

“Zari.”

“She ate enough that I’m not worried about it,” she said, sounding like she was deliberately choosing every word so I wouldn’t find another reason to panic. “She drank some juice too.”

“Water?”

“Yes, Mama Sol. Water too.”

Despite myself, the corner of my mouth twitched. I shook my head as I started walking again. “Don’t play with me about my baby.”

“I ain’t playing with you. I’m trying to get you to calm your ass down.”

“Is she up?”

“Nah. She fell asleep.”

My smile disappeared just as quickly as it had come, and my fingers tightened around my phone. “She asked for me?”

The question came out quieter than the rest. There was another small pause before Zari answered, and that pause told me the answer before she ever said it.

“Yeah.”

That one hurt. I looked down at the floor as I walked, blinking a few times as the guilt I’d been fighting all day crawled right back up my throat. “I should’ve been there.”

Zari let out a knowing sigh. “Here you go.”

My brows pulled together. “What?”

“With that guilt shit.” Her tone wasn’t mean, but I could hear the frustration underneath it. Zari knew exactly what I was doing—beating myself up over something I couldn’t control.

“It ain’t guilt. I’m her mama.” I tightened my grip around my phone, already feeling myself getting defensive.

“And you were at work, Sol,” she reminded me, putting extra weight on the last two words like she needed me to understand there was a difference between not being there and choosing not to be there.

“I could’ve left.”

“And then what?” Her voice sharpened slightly. Not because she was mad at me, but because she knew exactly where my mind was going and wasn’t about to let me go there. “Miss hours you need?”

My stomach tightened immediately. If only she knew how badly I needed those hours. Zari didn’t know about the notice. She didn’t know that every hour on that time clock mattered more than ever right now, and I wasn’t about to tell her over the phone.