AllFreeNovel
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“Oh, me too. I’ll get changed,” Prince says after looking into a mirror. He is just like his mother; he always wants to look his best.
After we both got into our best attire, we headed to the restaurant. We waited a while to be seated. The reason Prince chose this restaurant was that it had these beautiful ice sculptures that he loves to admire. He has a passion for art, especially sculpting.
“I should have worn a jacket, Mom. You should have warned me,” Prince whines.
I playfully flicked his forehead. “I did, dummy.”
“Then you should have warned me twice. Come on Mom, you know I don’t listen well.”
“Gaslighting is an ugly shade on you.” I scolded.
“Yeah, my teachers say that, too. I need to take a day to self-reflect.” He sighs.
My nine-year-old has the personality of a full-grown adult sometimes. It may be my fault for letting him read all my self-help books. I’m glad to have such a smart son.
The server walks over, and I ask her to not add any vegetables to my order, but of course, Prince steps in. “Mom, we talked about this.” Prince referring to me telling him I would start eating more vegetables, but fuck that.
The surrounding people overhear our conversation and make sure to tell me how cute my son was as they left. There was another man near us, and he glances at me for a second but reverts his gaze to the man he was speaking with. His sharp blue eyes pierced me, even though it was only a second. He looks like one of my clients. A man with tons of money to throw around. As I look around, I realize there are a couple of good-looking potential clients. I look away and return my focus to Prince.
“Mom, there is a new museum. Trey’s mom said it was opening soon. We should go when it opens.”
“Sure, we can even pick up Trey, too.” I offer.
Prince whispers happily, “Yes!”
Hey Cinderella, down for a masquerade? I have a client who pays quite handsomely if you are down. I have our outfits, so do not worry.
-Izzy
When?
-Rey
Tomorrow night.
-Izzy
If the bucks are good, I’m there.
-Rey
Hm…escorting at a masquerade party is an exciting idea. I wonder who our patrons are for the night?
Prince accidentally knocked over my purse, and I got up to grab it. Two sets of dress shoes appear in front of me. I look up and those blue eyes have found their way back to me. He hands me my strawberry lip balm and then offers me his hand again to get off the floor. His hand is firm, rough, and much bigger than my own. His raven hair pushed back. He doesn’t say anything else, and he walks past me. His aloof demeanor steadied as he kept walking.
I scoff as I return to my seat. Prince looks at me and smiles. “What?” I narrow.
“I didn’t say anything.” He laughs. Prince looks up at me and asks, “Can we visit Dad’s grave today?”
He hasn’t asked me in such a long time to see Ivan. I blink at him, “Of course, we can go see your dad.”
His father, my husband, Ivan, died a year ago. The police officers said he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Someone shot and killed him. He had already picked him up from school. I could have lost them both that day. Physically, Prince was unharmed, but I’m unsure about his mental state. He was in the car with him that day; he watched his father die in front of him. Life got hard quickly after he died. I hate to say it, but Ivan took care of us. I never worried about money when Ivan was around.
After dinner, we went to visit Ivan. I’ll be honest, I don’t want to visit him. People say it brings them peace to have a place to visit their loved ones, but I believe the former. His tombstone is just a reminder of what I’ve lost. A reminder that I will never hear his laugh echo in my ear, his lips taste my own, or that heavy Russian accent mispronouncing words.
“HeyPapa, Igot the best scores in all my classes, which is not surprising. Even so, I should be celebrating. You should have seen the place Mom took me for dinner.” Prince has a habit of talking to him like he is still alive. I’m not sure how the afterlife works, but I don’t talk to him. It wouldn’t feel right if I did. I would be waiting for a funny response that I know will never come. I’m not going to set myself up for that kind of disappointment.
The Next Night
