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THIRTY
Brandon called last night. When I didn’t answer, he texted, informing me that he and his dad reviewed their security feed and saw someone had indeed snuck onto the property.
I’m awash in guilt from accusing him of destroying my art out of pettiness. But also still in a funk after seeing the mess. It unnerves me that someone dislikes me enough to do that.
The blaring sunlight is peeking into my room through the sheer curtain. I’m sure it’s late morning. But I have no desire to leave the bed.
Light knocking on my door makes me uncover my head.
“Kay?” Momma calls out before entering. She wrinkles her flawless brows, beauty enhanced with subtle makeup, curls straightened. “Yesterday, you were up after six. Now it’s almost noon, and you’re still in bed.”
She comes over and sits at my side. “Your dad said you didn’t have dinner. Feeling sick?”
“No. I’m fine.”
She brushes aside my curls. I was so agitated the night before that I forgot to wrap my hair.
“Did you and Brandon have an argument or something?”
I shake my head against the pillow and mumble, “I don’t want to talk about it, Momma.”
“All right.” She straightens from the bed. “I’m meeting Althea for a little and then go to the grocery store. There’s quiche and hash browns when you get hungry.”
“Okay.”
“Whatever it is, it’ll work out.” She offers a loving smile and pats my back before leaving the room.
I know Momma won’t be home until later. Whenever she links up with friends, they lose time together.
Flattening on my back, I remain in bed, scrolling through Instagram. My account is all about art. I rarely post pictures of myself.
A sad feeling blossoms at the recent pics I shared on Thursday of the paintings I finished. Damn. Now they’re all in pieces.
Seeing that Brandon liked so many of my posts softens my heart and causes my lips to curl.
I’m about to text him when a sound comes from the living room.
Is Momma still here?
I wait in quiet, listening. But I don’t hear the front door.
Thinking it’s nothing, I resume composing the text to Brandon.
I’m sorry I accused you.
He replies right away.
I only accept in-person apologies.
Invite me over.
Giggles sputter out effortlessly. Gosh, this guy. I don’t even have a reason to be upset with him. Sighing, I text him back.
Fine. Come by.
I climb out of bed to shower before Brandon arrives. The instant I open the door, I hear a sound in the living room again.
“Momma? Did you forget something?”
