“Let’s go somewhere else.”
She chuckled. “I figured. We’re going to this place called Wally’s. It’s near your house so I’m spending the night with you tonight.”
I nodded.
“Alright now let me go get ready to fix this bitch’s lashes since she can’t refrain from picking them out.”
A giggle escaped my lips as she disappeared into her area. While I and four more stylist did hair on this side of my salon, I allowed my sister to dedicate the little room that was somewhat like a suite in the back to her esthetician and lash girly shit. She paid her booth rent and made bank, so we were always good. Who said family couldn’t make money together?
I had one more head to do before I was done here and thank god because my ass was tired. Irish asked me to babysit for him last night and the baby didn’t stop crying until like three in the morning when I made him come and get the little motherfucker. Nothing against kids, but I didn’t play about my sleep, and I wasn’t used to sacrificing it for a child that wasn’t mine. Especially while her parents were out doing what brought them to fruition. I was the daytime auntie, not the spend a night one.
My next head was a quick weave, and it took me no time before I was cleaning up for the day and walking out the shop. By the time I reached the back of the store, my sister was walking her client out.
“Did you get that message from Shrek’s bitch?” Ree asked after she locked the door.
“Taree!”
“What? That’s what her mean ass looks like. Plus why the fuck would her mama name her Fiona?” She was talking about our older sister.
“It’s a nice name. I don’t think they intended for her to loo?—”
“And you say I’m mean. Anyway why is she blowing the family group chat down just because she can’t get a babysitterfor those bad ass kids? Pops is the one who wanted a destination wedding, so why the fuck is she mad at us like we planned it?”
I cackled. None of my siblings and I had the same mother, but of the five of us Fiona’s old ass is the only one who gave a fuck what or who our father was fucking. Then to make matters worse he was currently planning to marry his longtime jump off in the French Quarter somewhere. None of us gave a fuck because that was his life. Fiona on the other hand was petrified and trying to get us on board to talk him out of it. “Leave her alone. She’s unhappy so she needs everybody to be unhappy with her.”
“Funny, because Irish just said that to her.”
“I’m sure he didn’t say it that way of course.” I knew my brother well enough to know he had to have added a few adjectives and some profanity.
“He called her a miserable bitch and told her to go get a hobby. I’m shocked he hasn’t called you yet. You know he says things then comes to you like you’re his priest for confession.”
Shaking my head I walked toward the back to put the dry towels in the dryer. “Typical Iri—” I started but my phone ringing in my back pocket interrupted my sentence. I didn’t have to look at the phone to know who was calling, she spoke him up.
“Yes, Irish,” I answered the phone on speaker and continued what I was doing.
“You at the shop?”
“Yeah, me and Ree.”
“I’m right down the street at Grams’ house. I’m on my way to y’all and tell her stank ass she was wrong for sending that Gif.”
Before I could ask him, what Gif or let him know we were about to leave he hung up. He had a bad habit of that shit. “What Gif did you send, Taree?”
I didn’t get a verbal response. Instead she cackled loudly from a distance while I could only imagine which one she sent.
Less than ten minutes later I heard a knock at the door. When I looked up, Irish was standing there with a mug on his face. Ree opened the door for him, and he walked in fussing like I knew he would.
“Yo, I can’t stand her dramatic ass. Like didn’t nobody tell her to lay up and make five kids with a nigga who works nights at Walmart.” He came in the door pissed. “And ain’t shit wrong with working there, but what made this bitch think that five kids was affordable?”
“That’s her cat, so what she does with it isn’t our business.”
“You’re right, but when the broke bitch is in the family chat talking about somebody could afford to help her fly them out, as inherhusband and kids, to Pops’ wedding it is. Broke associate.” Fiona had really pissed him off, because by now he had picked up the broom and started sweeping for me.
“I didn’t see that, but she can’t be serious.”
“That’s because you muted it the last time she came in there bitching about them cutting her aid.” Ree walked from the back with a box to refill the shelves.
“You’re right I did. She wants handouts. Shit me too, but I don’t get them. I get out here and work for mine,” I reiterated.
