Page 10 of The Millionaire Mortician
The doorbell rang, and before I answered, I checked the monitor that showed the security cameras. Once I saw it was Talina, I yelled and told Nadia to go ahead and answer the door.
Moments later, Talina was already in my kitchen before the door even clicked shut behind her. “Sis, these shrimp smell like the Lord touched ‘em,” she sang.
Talina has been my best friend since my teenage years. We grew up in Atlanta together for most of our lives. When she started getting booked mostly in New York City to do hair, she decided to take a leap of faith and move to the Big Apple. So, when I told her I was moving a year ago, she was more than ecstatic. I also felt comfortable knowing I had someone close to me there.
“Mmmhmm, you know he did.” I turned around and winked at her.
We embraced each other like we hadn’t just seen one another two days ago, but that was our kind of friendship — always showing love.
A few minutes later, Tremeka and Jada pulled up, loud as ever, as they walked into the kitchen. We hadn’t even poured mimosas yet, and Jada was already spilling the tea. “Wait ‘til I tell y’all what this man did last night,” she stated.
I laughed as I handed everyone a glass, then we made our way into the lounge area of the house. They all dove straight intorelationship talk like they’d been holding their words hostage all week. Tremeka was mad at her man for forgetting her birthday dinner. Jada was bragging about how her situationship had been “Cash Appin’ her every other day. Talina was, well, she stayed trying to act like she didn’t care about anybody, yet she always had the most advice to give.
When it circled back to me, they all gave me that look, like,spill it, sis.
I sipped my mimosa slowly, trying to dodge the attention, but Talina hit me with that side-eye. “Daija, don’t start that hush-mouth shit. How are you and Milan doin’?”
I exhaled heavily. “Look, y’all know I love that man and his dirty draws. He’s damn near perfect. He keeps the bills handled, he doesn’t let me lift a finger, and the sex is always fire. The best I ever had.” I fanned myself, and they all hollered. “But...” I dragged the word out, “He doesn’t give me that quality time I need. Like, he’s there, but he’s not there. Y’all feel me?”
“Always,” Jada agreed with her eyes wide like she had been through it.
“It’s like Milan provides, he protects, he blows my back out every time he touches me, but still...” I shook my head, trying to put it into words. “Something is missing. I want that sit-on-the-couch-and-watch-movies-for-no-reason type of vibe. Or even just him asking how my day was. Not just dropping off Chanel bags like that’s supposed to fill the space.”
“Shit, I’ll take the Chanel bags,” Tremeka blurted out, making us all laugh.
Talina leaned forward, her nails tapping the glass. “Sis, you know what that sounds like to me? You need something to occupy your time again. You sitting at home waiting on his attention will drive you crazy. Start back working and doing what you love. Get you a little distraction, so when he’s too busy, you’re too busy too.”
Staring at her, I took in all of her words, and it actually made sense. I was living in Milan’s world, orbiting around his schedule, his grind, and his rules.
“Damn,” I muttered. “You’re right. I ain’t even realize how much I just paused my own life.”
“You still got your clippers, right?” Tremeka chimed in. “Girl, you could get right back in with your old clients.”
“Exactly,” Jada added. “You used to kill that shit. The men are still asking ‘bout you.”
I laughed, feeling low-key flattered. “I see what y’all are doing. Y’all are tryna gas me up.”
“Nah, we’re keepin’ it real,” Talina stated, her voice firm but loving. “Milan’s gon’ always be Milan. He’s a provider, a hustler, and that man’s built for the grind. However, you need your own lane, baby. Don’t sit around waiting on his love language to change when you could be filling your own cup.”
I sat there quietly for a second, letting everything sink in. She was right. I was complaining about what Milan wasn’t giving me, but I haven’t been giving myself anything either.
“You know what?” I finally spoke, a smile creeping onto my lips. “I’ma do it. I’ma talk to Milan tonight about my working again. I’ll let him know I love him, but I gotta make some moves, too. I need something that’s mine. As a matter of fact, let me text him suggesting dinner later.”
I quickly unlocked my phone and opened our message thread.
Me: Hi, baby. We haven’t gone out in a while. Let’s do dinner somewhere tonight.
Closing my phone, I rested it down beside me and exhaled.
My girls all clapped and cheered as if we had just made a pact. Talina raised her glass. “To Daija gettin’ back in her bag.” We all clinked glasses and raised our glasses in a toast.
For the rest of our brunch, we talked, laughed, ate, drank, threw shade, and gossiped. That was the thing about our girls’ time together. Sometimes it was just jokes and mimosas, while other times it was life checks we didn’t know we needed, and that day I got mine.
My phone vibrated against my thigh. When I checked, it was a message from Milan.
My Milly: Say less, make reservations, and send me the details.
Perfect,I smiled.
