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“The one you’re going to own as you walk into your destiny. That’s what you’re planning. Correct?”
Witherspoon’s mouth held open, jaw sprang softly, and glossed lips contracting. “I—I didn’t know.”
“Yeah,” Mehki inhaled. “He told me that. Well, let me show you this place and if you’re interested, we can talk more. If you’re not, I have two more I can show you as soon as this weekend.”
Witherspoon stared at me. Hard. I counted twenty seconds before I nodded, trying to move her along. “Time is a commodity, Witherspoon.” I pleaded with her sensibilities. “Mehki’s a patient man, but in high demand. This time is costing us all.”
Witherspoon snapped her mouth shut. She nodded back to me before turning toward her sister. “Sit tight and stay off that phone.” The young girl rolled her eyes while taking off to the bar. Snapping back into action mentally, Witherspoon asked Mehki as they began walking off, “What’s the asking price and square footage?”
Leaving them to it, I turn my attention back to my other phone, receiving a text from Cynthia.
Cynthia:He’s doing okay today. We’re trusting God for this being his turn around season.
Cynthia hit me up a few days ago, telling me her pops had been battling crazy health issues and sharing how it had been stressing her out. She apologized for reaching out to me since we weren’t kicking it like that anymore—my phrase—but I told her not to sweat it. It was obvious she needed to get what she was going through off her chest and if the person she chose was me, I was cool with it.
On my way here, I decided to check in when she sent another random scripture text. She’d been sending them since I responded to the one about her pops. It was something Cynthia told me she did daily for a handful of people in her contacts. I hated those shits; they were so impersonal and lacked sincerity. So, I thought a better response to it would be something more personable, so I asked about her pops.
Me:Glad to hear that. I’ve been praying too. Hit me up if there’s anything I can do.
Glancing up, I noticed the young girl at the bar, tapping away on her phone. The one thing she was told not to do. Her rebelling tickled me.
“Noelle, right?” The little girl’s attention raked up to me with heavy eyes and she nodded before returning her attention to her phone. “I hope I ain’t break up ya sister time.” I leaned against the bar, giving her, her personal space.
She sucked her teeth, face still toward the floor. “I wish I could say that. She’s being a bitch today for no reason.”
Damn…
“Sorry to hear that.”
She shrugged. “I guess. I don’t like talking shit on my sister, but she’s giving ‘Lattice’ today.”
“Lattice?”
Her tiny shoulders shrugged again. “My mother.”
“Oh! I got you. Big sister vibes: I guess that can be like ya moms.”
“Shi’s cooler than my mom will ever be. She has my back—unlike like today, though.”
At this point, I was still having the conversation with the top of shortie’s head.
“I’m sure this was isolated. She’s got a lot on her plate. You know?”
Her face swung up from the phone. “Not exactly. She didn’t even give me a chance to explain. When she came to pick me up, she told me to stuff it in front of my guidance counselor. I mean… I could’ve called Lattice for that type of judgment and totalitarianism.”
I wouldn’t have put it that way, but… Okay…
“I feel you. But I’m sure after she’s done with this, she’ll be ready to kick it about what happened.”
“The damage is already done. She humiliated me. If my school’s staff sees my own sibling doesn’t take me seriously, they’ll continue to believe they don’t have to.”
“Damn…” That was all I could say. Lil’ momma was serious.
“Right. All I was doing was defending myself.”
Here goes the bullshit…
I really didn’t care to know what went on. Yeah, I was regretful lil shortie was vexed, but getting into her drama wasn’t mine to care to know about.
