Page 31 of Bern and Isley
“And I forgot to tell you that we found out Scrap done took his ass to Arkansas and got arrested.”
“Let me guess. He took his ass out there stealing.”
“Hell yeah. Armed robbery. He robbed a surgeon at gun point. His ass is going to get some serious time.”
“I hate to say it, but jail might be the safest place for him right now. Because he gon’ mess around and get killed stealing from muthafuckas.”
“I hate to agree, but I think you’re right. In the meantime, I’ve been having to try to cheer Aunt Fee up. You know that broke her heart.”
Isley and I spent the rest of the night just enjoying each other’s presence. I was glad to be back in the same building with her. It truly felt like home having her there. Even thoughcircumstances didn’t look exactly like I envisioned, I knew eventually it would work out for the best.
Chapter 17
Isley
I staredat the notebook on the kitchen table. In front of me I had written down the pros and cons of renting a booth in an established salon versus renting a salon suite. Renting a salon suite would give me the privacy I desired, but renting a booth was a hundred dollars cheaper a week. Renting a booth would also give me the opportunity to socialize with other stylists and get human interaction outside of just my aunt. But seeing that I was an introvert, I could see myself getting tired of socializing really quickly. There were so many decisions I needed to make. Outside of creating income, I needed to start thinking about childcare. It was during those times that grief crept up on me. I knew if my mother was still living, she would offer assistance or sound advice.
I took a deep breath then closed my notebook to give my brain a rest. I didn’t want to get myself worked up. Things would work out the way they were supposed to. Besides, I had a client who was due to show up at any minute.
Just as I finished setting up the area in the kitchen where I worked, there was a knock at the door. It was a first-time client requesting small, butt length, knotless braids. She was the only person I had scheduled for the day because of the time it wouldtake to service her. The young lady named Braylah strolled into my home, barely speaking. It was nine in the morning, so I didn’t think anything of it. I figured she wasn’t a morning person. She had on the tightest coochie cutter shorts. They were so tight they may as well have been painted on her. She paired them with a neon orange bandeau top. Her thick hair was pulled into a ponytail no more than three inches long.
She took a seat as I wrapped my leopard cape around her and started on her hair. Eighties soul music played in the background.
“So, Braylah, how did you hear about me?”
She smacked her teeth. “Around the complex.”
“Oh, okay. Anybody in particular recommend me?”
“I can’t remember off the top of my head,” she replied bluntly.
“Cool. Well, I appreciate you booking with me.”
I ended that conversation because it was very clear lil mama wasn’t interested in the small talk. Nor was I, but her vibes were way off so I was trying to figure out a way to neutralize the negative energy. I mean if I was going to spend six hours on her head, I figured we could at least be cordial. But seeing that I had a lot on my mind, I attempted to block out Braylah’s standoffish attitude. I was perfectly fine offering silent service.
My mind wandered to Bern. I had been spending every evening with him since he moved back into the complex. It felt good. Like old times. Watching movies and feeding our faces. The nigga acted like he had to buy or make me food every time I stepped foot into his place. Fuckin’ around with him was going to have me gaining weight faster than I should. I told him contrary to popular belief, I only needed a few hundred more calories than I did pre-pregnancy. He wasn’t trying to hear that though. I hated to admit it but I enjoyed being catered to. It felt good being the one cared for instead of doing the caregiving.When I was with him, he didn’t allow me to lift a finger. He would cook for me, fix my plate, and put the dishes away. He wouldn’t even let me drive if we went to get takeout.
Thankfully, time moved faster than I thought it would. I was oiling the client’s scalp when there was a knock on the door. My brows furrowed. I wasn’t expecting anyone else. I wiped my hands against my apron before shuffling to the door.
I was surprised to see who was on the other side.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to see my baby’s mama.” Marshall smirked. “Are you going to let me in or what?”
I rolled my eyes then stepped back to allow him to enter the unit. “You can have a seat while I finish up.”
He walked into the living area and sat on the sofa. It was my first time seeing him since we broke up and the negative feelings I felt toward him still festered. The attraction I once felt for him was no longer present. Being honest, I was somewhat repulsed by even being in the vicinity of him.
“Okay, Ms. Braylah, you’re all done. Your total is two hundred dollars.” I passed her the handheld mirror then removed her cape as she admired my work.
“I don’t have that much. I thought you told me it was one hundred.”
“For small knotless? No, ma’am. I said it was two hundred.” I pulled my phone from my pocket to review our text thread. And just like I thought, I quoted her two hundred dollars. I held my phone in her view so she could see it.
Braylah shoved my hand away and placed a one-hundred-dollar bill on the table. “I don’t need to see that. All I got is a hundred dollars, so you can take it or leave it.”
I was taken aback. It was the first time I’d had a client not only try to short me, but challenge me about my pricing. The women around the way just didn’t move like that.
