“Hoe, I don’t need a Snickers bar,” Stella griped. “I’m good.”
“I ain’t say Snickers, bish, I said food. Cling to your stomach ass shit.”
“I’m not about to do that when we ’bout to head out to this showing. What do I look like farting up the place? They’d run out of there so fast and say eff that stank ass lady,” Stella said.
I giggled then stood to throw my food away. I stretched then felt my stomach churn. This was unlike me. I never had problems with Gator Pit. Maybe I was just exhausted from all the painting. I was glad the paint wasn’t strong. I would’ve thrown up for sure.
“You okay?” Marsha asked.
“Yeah, yeah. My stomach must be too full.”
“Mmmhmm, them damn beef ribs,” Marsha said.
“Oh whatever. You know you be smashing them too,” Stella said.
“Maybe I just need to shit. Ever think of that?” I asked.
They both got silent and made stinky faces. We all burst out laughing. I grabbed my phone and headed to the bathroom in my office. My stomach didn’t hurt enough for me to poop but I was going to take the time to call and thank Armond.
I went to his name and got stuck on a picture we took in Puerto Rico before Jeffrey ruined my trip. I looked different. No bags under my eyes. No weariness on my face. Just living in the moment and happy with a complete stranger. I smiled then went about connecting us.
“Ah, if this isn’t a pleasant surprise,” Armond said after picking up on the first ring.
“Is it?” I asked. He knew I would be calling after that drop.
He chuckled then told someone he’d be right back. I heard his heavy footsteps then the shutting of a door made me jump from how loud it echoed.
“Damn, are you at a castle, Armond?” I joked.
“Close enough,” he said nonchalantly.
“Thank you,” I rushed out.
“What? Why are you thanking me and why does it sound like you’re panicking? What’s wrong?”
“Huh?”
I didn’t know why I was suddenly nervous. My heart was thumping something wicked. The door closing reminded me of the singular time Jeffrey locked me in our basement. I was down there for a week.
I shook the memory off then looked at myself in the mirror.Calm down, girl.
“Brandy, what’s wrong, baby? You were just excited and now… I don’t know what the fuck to think.”
“I’m good. Sorry. Uh, I was calling to thank you for the money you sent.”
“You mean the money I sent back to you while you were in Puerto Rico?”
“Huh? No, I just checked last week and…”
“You sure you checked the right account? I mean, seriously, why do you have three bank accounts, woman?”
“I’ve always had to be careful. One time Jeff took out two grand without saying a word, knowing I needed it the next day. After that I started another account he didn’t know about, and of course my business has its own account.”
“So you’re saying he still has access to one of your accounts?”
“No. Not anymore. I took him off my account when I filed for divorce. I put my mom on the account in case anything ever happened to me though.”
“Brandy…” he sighed.
