Page 32 of Bern and Isley
“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but you better call somebody and have them send me the rest of the money you owe me or you can get your ass whooped.”
“Bitch, you whooping my ass is the last thing I’m worried about.” She swung her head and crossed her arms. “Now take that money and get over it, hoe.”
My blood boiled. She turned her head toward the door and I grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking her back. I quickly pulled my shears from my apron then cut several braids out of her head.
“Bitttchhhh!” she yelled as she grasped at my hands.
“Hey, cut that shit out.” Marshall finally stood and rushed between us as Braylah started swinging wildly. I swung back at her, connecting twice.
“Get the fuck out of my house, you broke bitch,” I yelled as Marshall dragged the girl out of the apartment.
“Hoe, this not over. I already owe you for fucking on my cousin man. I’ll be back, bitch.”
“Get the fuck out of here.” Marshall shoved her as he blocked me from following her.
I was fuming. I couldn’t believe the chain of events. That was the most ghetto ass shit that had happened to me. I was so glad Aunt Fee had been visiting the candy lady in the building and wasn’t there when the altercation occurred. I hated that I had allowed drama in her space.
“See, this is why you need to get a real muthafuckin’ job, Isley. You doing hair in the fuckin’ house is ratchet as fuck. If you want to be a damn mama, you need to be more responsible.”
I glared at the father of my child. How dare he look down on how I made my living? It was honest money. Flexible hours. Hell, and the earning potential was truly unlimited.
“You can get the hell on if you think that I’m going to listen to you talk down on me. Why the fuck are you even here?” I was ready to slap his ass next.
“Alright, Isley. Just calm down. Damn.” Marshall raised his hand. “I just don’t want my child harmed because ghetto bitches come around here with drama. I came over hoping I can take you out to lunch.”
“I don’t feel like eating. I’m still pissed,” I admitted.
“I know you’re upset, but you need to feed my baby. So come on.”
I didn’t bother to respond, but my stomach growled loudly, completely disregarding my plan to wallow in my negative feelings.
“Please, Isley.” Marshall grabbed my hand.
I snatched my hand from his and removed my apron. “Alright, I guess I can use some fresh air after all of that. Let me freshen up really quick.”
I was ready within thirty minutes and reluctantly rode with Marshall to Pancake House. I got my usual stack of pancakes with sunny side up eggs and bacon.
“So, since you’re carrying my baby, I think we need to discuss reconnecting.”
I scrunched my face at his statement. My day had already been shitty, the last thing I wanted to do was entertain the thought of reconciling with Marshall.
“Isley, I come from a two-parent home. I want the same for my child.”
“Marshall, please… you and I didn’t work. It’s unfortunate, but I believe we’re very capable of successfully co-parenting. I will not stand in the way of you being a part of our child’s life. But us getting back together will not happen.”
His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. But that shit didn’t move me. I hadn’t forgotten the hurtful things he’d said to meand his accusations. I’d rather be single than be treated the way he’d treated me. I knew it wouldn’t be easy to be a single mother, but I was willing to give my child all I had.
“You didn’t even think about it.”
“There’s nothing to think about. So can we please leave this conversation alone? I’ve had a rough day, as you just witnessed. I would like to just enjoy our meal. Please.”
He reluctantly let the conversation go. Well, he was quiet. But the glower that took over his face warned me that he hadn’t let it go. It was just marinating for whenever he felt like bringing it back up. I enjoyed my meal despite the awkward silence between Marshall and me. As soon as we finished our food, he immediately asked for the check to pay. I was thankful for that as I was ready to get home and unwind.
Marshall peeled out of the restaurant parking lot so fast I thought he was going to hit an elderly lady walking nearby.
“Can you please slow down?” I asked in a calm, neutral voice.
“Don’t tell me how to drive. I’m trying to hurry up and get your dusty ass home.”
