“I’m so sorry, Jela.” Neveah offered her support, taking my hand.
“I have to get away from him. At this point, I don’t care if he sent you to spy on me or to get me to tell you how I feel, to use it against me. I can’t do this anymore. I just can't! I want to go home. I want my mama!”
I broke down so bad that Neveah had to pull over on the side of the road to comfort me. When she finally pulled away from me, she had tears staining her cheeks. I knew then that she was genuinely sad for me after all, and probably wasn’t trying to befriend me for Damien.
“Jela, look at me…” I looked over at her, and she handed me a tissue. “We’re about to go have some drinks and kick it.”
I shook my head frantically. “I can't. I have to go cook?—”
“Nothe fuckyou’re not about to go cook shit for him. You just went through a traumatic experience and need a mental break. I’ll order his ass some pizza, but we are going to talk. I have a degree in psychology. I don’t use it for foolish reasons, but I got my bachelor’s to become a therapist. From my knowledge, I can tell you're drowning in depression. If you’re comfortable, we can talk about whatever you want. No judgements, no coercing, no fake shit. On my mama, and I don’t put shit on my mama…”
I didn’t have to think too long because I literally had no one I could talk to about how I was feeling. If Neveah weren’t being as sincere as she portrayed, I wouldn’t be accountable for what I’d do to her.
I nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yes.”
“I got you… Now I see what Truce sees,” she said, smirking at me.
“I don’t even know what that means, but I’m not too fond of him either.”
“You will be.”
I didn’t want to taint her image of him, but after hearing Damien tell me he was offering up my vagina to his brother and Truce kissing me, there was no way I wanted his ass in my space again.
She pulled away from the curb as she called Damien, letting him know that she was taking me out for drinks. Of course, he protested, but obviously, he listened to her because we were pulling up to a place called Nefertiti’s fifteen minutes later. As much as I didn’t want to be out in public after just losing my baby, I also knew I needed this time to decompress.
Even if for a little while.
Sunday
“Bring them ribs back out wit’cha, Nephew!” Uncle Kari yelled behind me.
I nodded, sliding the patio door open, noticing it was stopped midway, only leaving little space to get inside. I tugged on it a few times before it slid open.
“I’ve been asking Kari and Dame to fix that thing for two months now,” Moms said, washing the greens in the sink.
I checked out what the problem was before I nodded. “The wheel is old and rusted. I’ll go to the hardware store tomorrow and get the part to fix it.”
Though my moms’ house was nice, there were a few things that should have been upgraded. I didn’t expect Uncle Kari tokeep up with the maintenance since he wasn't very hands-on when it came to fixing things. But Dame knew what to do, and if he didn’t, he had the funds to hire people to fix whatever was broken. I expected him to step up and keep up with the maintenance of our mother’s home. His house was in pristine condition, yet my mother’s patio and doors were showing their years of wear and tear.
She swung her head over to the left of her. “I have the part in the drawer over there.”
I opened the drawer and saw the wheels inside. “I’ma get you together since I'm back. Why haven't you been letting down the patio roof during the bad weather months? The paint is chipping on the deck.”
“I be forgetting. And when I do remember, it be too late. I’m going to just start leaving it down.”
“That may be best.” I took out the tools I needed to fix the door when Scottie started crying, rolling into the kitchen in her walker.
“Aww, Sweet Pea. Nana’s coming.”
“I got her,” I told her.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Can you take the ribs out to Unc?”
