Page 158 of Rather: The Therapist

“Okay, now talk to Momma.”

Roulette was the only person in the family who referred to herself as Momma, but we never revoked her right. Though she was indeed the wildest, she had the tendency to treat, talk to you, and nurture you like a mother. Just like most of us, she had no desire to brith children of her own, but she owned more than one establishment full of young, ambitious girls that she mothered better than some of the women who birthed them.

“Thing between us ended.”

“You knew this was how it would play out.”

I nodded. “I did. I just didn’t expect it to feel like someone stole my heart out of my chest.”

“They didn’t. It’ll hurt for a while, but you’ll get through it. I promise.”

“I know.”

“So, are you done crying about it, babe? Because whether you want it to or not, life goes on.”

“I am.”

“Good. If you decide you’re not, that’s okay, too. I have a shoulder right here for you to cry on. I just need you to bathe first or we’ll both be crying together.”

“Shut up!” I chortled.

Though a chunk of me left with Priest out of my door, having my sisters around made me feel whole again. The last three months without them had been torture. I never wanted to experience life without them. They made everything alright, even when it wasn’t.

“Come on. Get in. I have my work cut out for me.”

“You’re insufferable. Has anyone told you that lately?”

“Chem and he’s starting to sound like a broken record.”

The steam from the shower clouded the mirrors and glass all around us. When I stepped into the shower, the temperature was perfect. I reached for my loofah and was immediately scolded.

“Uh Mm. Don’t touch nothing in there. I got everything you need right here.”

She patted the toiletry bag she’d brought in. Roulette removed a pair of exfoliating gloves and swiped them under the water. She then lathered them until a thick foam was in both her palms. Soon after, her hands were on me, scrubbing away the pain and strife the week had caused.

By the time she grabbed the shower hose to rinse it all off, Rome had joined us. She was carrying a fluffy robe and towel. Roaman was right behind her, trying to balance four glasses of wine in her hands. Royce carried another three. Range came through the door with her intrusive thoughts brimming.

“So, is anyone going to ask her why she’s been crying herself a river? I just cleaned at least a hundred snotty cloths from the floor.”

“Has to be some dick,” Rugger blurted entering the bathroom with a glass of something brown and surely strong in her glass.

Roulette began her second round of cleansing.

“Spread them cheeks, Rather.”

I leaned forward and placed my hands on the shower wall, assuming the position. When I was stable, I removed my hands and parted the cheeks of my ass.

“Shhhhh! Maybe it’s the weight of her commitment,” Rome reasoned.

“No,” Roulette told them, “Rugger is right. Sis done slipped and fell on some dick. The wrong dick, might I add. The dick of the man who shares the same blood as the man she’s marrying.”

Gasps were echoed in the large bathroom.

“But, in her defense, she was slipping and sliding down that one first. Long before a fucking Kofi existed.”

“Awwww, baby,” Royce sighed.

“Damn.” Range tittered.

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