Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
I keep my eyes locked on the front door rather than dwelling about the condition of the yard or even the discarded boxes on the front porch. There are more important issues inside.
I lift my hand to knock, but Naomi pulls the door open before I can make contact with the wood.
“I brought some formula for the baby. Threw in a pack of diapers and wipes.”
“Charity,” Naomi snaps.
I almost lose my shit, but it wouldn’t be helpful right now. It doesn’t go unnoticed that she didn’t have a problem swiping cash off the dresser earlier.
“It’s cold out. I didn’t want you to have to get the baby out in bad weather.” I pull my jacket tighter around me to emphasize my words.
“That’s… kind of you. Do you want to come in?”
“I called your mom,” I blurt, knowing I need to be honest with her rather than her being blindsided if Aunt Laylah decides to show up without calling first.
Naomi perks up with the news rather than kicking me and slamming the door in my face. It gives me a little hope that she’s ready for the help her mother will undoubtedly offer her.
“It went to voicemail.” Naomi’s face falls. “But I know she’ll call me back. I told her it was important.”
“I haven’t seen or talked to her in years,” Naomi mutters.
“I know you may not want to hear this, but your mother loves you.”
She scoffs.
“Could you imagine a day that you’ll wake up and not love your little girl?”
Her eyes drop to her feet.
“Aunt Laylah is your mother. No matter what you’ve done, she loves you.” My words clog in my throat because the sentiment may be nice but it’s so far from the truth. My mother didn’t love me enough. She walked away one day and never looked back. “Leave Tony, get healthy, and raise that amazing little girl that you have.”
“I don’t even know where she lives.”
“But you will, and it’s good that you don’t. It means Tony doesn’t, and he won’t be able to find you when he gets out of jail.”
“I don’t think he’s getting out of jail.” My cousin’s eyes lock on mine. “He killed a guy in a bar fight. It’s not his first felony.”
“Jesus, Naomi.”
My cousin shakes her head. The very last thing she needs right now is to be bashed by someone she sees as thinking she’s better than her, and despite all my hard work in life, the woman standing in front of me only sees me a someone who had everything handed to her.
“I have to sell the house,” I say, hitting her with the last shot I have.
“Big Daddy gave it to me,” she snaps, her anger like a light switch she easily flips back on.
“And if you move in with Aunt Laylah and get your shit together, I’ll give you every fucking penny of the sale, but you can’t stay here with your daughter. This place should be fucking condemned.”
She narrows her eyes at me, snapping them over my shoulder when a horn blares from the driveway.
She nearly shrinks back into herself when she sees the dark SUV idling in the driveway.
“Is that Will?” Naomi asks, her voice shaky.
“He’s a friend from school,” I say. “I’m going to be completely honest with you, Naomi. If you don’t find a better solution than this, and I highly suggest your mom, I’m going to have to call social services.”
“You’d do that?” she spits. “You’d do that to your own blood?”
“I’d do that to save that little girl without blinking, and as her mother, you should be willing to make sacrifices too.”
I walk away because I have to. Arguing with her won’t get either of us anywhere. I can only hope as I climb back into the SUV that she loves her child enough to do the right thing.
Will gives me a soft, knowing smile when I look back to him, only pausing a second before turning the heat higher and pointing the vents in the back of the SUV in my direction.
“I don’t remember it being that bad for me growing up,” I whisper as the vehicle backs out and turns onto the main road in front of the house, wondering all the while if I wore rose-colored glasses because the love I felt growing up might have shadowed all the bad things my grandfather had no control over.
“It wasn’t for you,” he says, his voice distant despite our proximity.
It sounds like a confession, as if he’s telling me it was that bad for him, and I just never knew about it.
The car ride is silent, and although I have no idea what’s going on in Will’s mind, I can’t stop feeling guilty for being so out of the loop. Naomi’s baby can’t be but a couple of months old, and I didn’t even have a clue that my cousin had a child. How much help could I have provided if I’d just kept in contact with her? Is there lasting damage that could’ve been mitigated? Will she have the strength to get clean and provide for her child? Will my aunt even care when she gets my voicemail? I know a million different things could’ve happened between them since I moved away. I can only hope and pray that the love I spoke of to Naomi isn’t on the other side of a bridge she burned with her own selfish, drug-induced actions.