Page 48 of Truce Of The Matter

A smile creeps across my face. A text back is a huge ass start and I’ll take it. Trying my luck while saying a silent prayer, I type my next text.

Me: I’ll be there at ten to take you to the airport.

For a moment, there’s nothing. Then those anxiety causing bubbles appear. I hold my breath as they flash on my screen. It seems like forever before they disappear and aren’t replaced with words.I tried.My entire body deflates and I ease back onmy bed, defeated. The little hope I had instantly vacates my soul. I take a deep breath, sit up, and get off the bed. When I reach down to grab my phone, it vibrates.Daija.

Daija: See you at 10

I damn near scream from joy as I reread her text over and over. While beaming from ear to ear, I head to my kitchen. The graham crackers and peanut butter I consumed last night are long gone and I’m hungry. After starting my gingerbread cookie latte in my K-Café, I take out eggs, heavy whipping cream, gouda, spinach, and onions to make a quick omelet. When I grab my latte, I decide to add meat to my omelet so I grab some of the deboned rotisserie chicken that I keep in the fridge. It comes in handy for a quick meal.

As I eat, I text Monae to see if she’s up. We haven’t talked in a few days and I don’t know if she worked late last night. If she had, I don’t want to wake her with a call. When she answers in the affirmative, I prop my phone up and FaceTime her.

“I’m up, hoe, but not camera ready,” she scoffs.

“Turn your camera on. I’ve seen you with a damn scarf before.”

“No scarf only hair and I look a mess thanks to Just and a good ass morning wake up,” she says, practically moaning.

“Some information is too much. I’ll be glad when you learn what falls into the category,” I tease.

“Please go to hell. Let’s not forget it was you who encouraged me to cook dinner for him and sleep with him when we first got together. You were also the maid of honor at my wedding who brought me a whole freak kit for the honeymoon. You know what goes down over here,” she snaps back.

“Assuming and knowing are too different things. Now, turn the camera on. I hate talking to a black screen.”

“I wish I might. Aside from the tiny, tiny bags under your eyes, you look cute and I will not show myself. Where are you going?”

“How bad are the bags?” I ask because I thought I had done well with concealing the evidence of my binge crying.

“Truce, bags are expected. You’re grieving.”

I’m more than grieving but I’m not ready to reveal that to her yet. I need to know where Daija stands before I tell anybody else. So. My best friend will definitely be told just not today.

“But Rex is taking me somewhere tonight. I need them gone before seven.”

“Then a little Preparation-H is needed and I do mean a little, like half a pea-size amount under each eye.”

“Will it burn?” I question.

“If you put it in your eyes, I’m sure it will, but you are putting it under your eyes, on the bags,” she says with laughter in her smart-mouthed tone.

“Smart ass!”

“So where is he taking you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, be cute and sexy either way. Wear that cute bodysuit you got from Passion with your brown puffer and those boots you got with the coat.”

“You don’t think that’s too much?”

“Hell no. I love that bodysuit. Plus, it’s easy on and easy off. That man has earned some coochie and he doesn’t need to struggle to reach it.”

“Remind me again why I even try to have adult, civilized conversations with yo’ crazy ass.”

“I’m simply telling the truth,” she says then I hear my goddaughter Justice in the background.

“Momma, I’m hungry,” she says.

“Good morning, Justice.”