Page 23 of Manic

Tindra studies me for a moment, and I can practically see the wheels turning in that brilliant mind of hers.

Sometimes I think she sees right through me, picking up on all the things I try so hard to hide.

But she doesn't push, just nods and slides a bowl across the counter to me.

"Eat," she commands. "Before your coffee gets cold."

I roll my eyes but comply, grabbing a spoon and digging into the colorful concoction.

It's delicious, of course.

The kid has always had a knack for creating beautiful things, whether it's on canvas or in the kitchen.

As we eat in silence, I can't help but marvel at how much Tindra has grown.

"Hey, baby," I start, trying to keep my tone casual as I dig into my fruit bowl. "I was thinking... how would you feel about Odessa coming over later when I have to go out?"

Tindra's excitement visibly deflates.

She turns to me, her eyes narrowing. "Mom, seriously? I'm not a little kid anymore. I don't need a babysitter."

I sigh, "I know, honey. It's just... things are still new here. I'd feel better if someone was with you."

"But why?" she whines, crossing her arms. "I'm old enough to stay by myself. I did it all the time back in Atlanta."

The mention of Atlanta sends a pang through my chest.

I try to keep my voice steady. "This isn't Atlanta Tindra. It's different here."

"How?" she challenges. "Because you're scared of your past catching up with us?"

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut.

Sometimes I forget how perceptive she is.

I take a deep breath, choosing my next words carefully. "It's complicated, sweetie. There are... things you don't understand yet."

Tindra scoffs. "Then explain them to me. I'm not a baby, Mom. I can handle it."

I wish I could tell her everything.

"I know you're not a baby," I say softly. "But there are some things I need to protect you from. Just for now. Can you trust me on this?"

She's quiet for a long moment, as she chews her food.

Finally, she sighs. "Fine. But I'm not happy about it."

"I know," I reach over to squeeze her hand. "And I promise, it won't be forever. Just until we get settled here. Okay?"

Tindra nods reluctantly. "Okay. But Odessa better bring snacks. And let me pick the movie."

I can't help but smile. "I'm sure she will. And hey, maybe you two can have a little girls' night. Paint each other's nails, do face masks, all that fun stuff."

"Yeah, maybe," Tindra mumbles, but I can see the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “But I still want to paint too.”

I smile adoringly at my artistic little girl, “How about I walk down with you and we hang out while you paint, and then when Odessa gets here I’ll send her down?”

For the next couple of hours, I hang out with Tindra by her easel and watch her work, watch the way she makes every brush stroke.

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