Page 9 of Tyriq & Teaira
“Seafood lasagna. I bought too many lobsters and already had shrimp so I said why the hell not. I’ll whip up a salad to go with it, unless you want corn.”
“On the cob with your garlic butter?” I ask, hopeful.
She makes her own garlic butter and it’s better than any restaurant. If my mother wanted to work, she could definitely own a restaurant and put a lot of other people out of business. Cooking is her passion and true love; I swear you can taste that in her dishes too.
“Only because I already have garlic butter made.”
“I love you.”
“You better love me. I’m the only mother you got.” She smirks then smiles. After pouring the last of the mixture in her bowl over the layered pan, she covers it with white shredded cheese. Then she pulls green sprigs from her homegrown herb jars on the counter and finely chops it. After sprinkling it over the lasagna, she covers the pan with foil and places it in the oven. She washes her hands at the sink next, then steps to me for our hug. “You smell so good. What is that?” she asks as we hug.
“The peach butter and a body oil called Sensual. There’s a new little popup shop in the mall that sells it. I bought a bottle and love it. I need to go back.”
“And get me a bottle too,” she says. We end our embrace and she pinches the side of my dress. Her eyes scan me up and down then she smiles. “And get me one of these too. This is cute but a little sexy. I can wear this to book club.”
I grab her bag that I placed on the island stool then hand it to her. “Let’s see what’s in here,” I say.
She gladly accepts the bag then places it on the counter. The dress is on top so she pulls it out immediately. Her Kool-Aid smile spreads across her entire face.
“Oh, sweetheart. Thank you but I didn’t need sleeves.”
“Yes, you did. We will not be dressed alike.”
“You look just like me; we might as well dress alike. I’m going to put it on before your daddy gets home,” she says and I playfully roll my eyes.
“They are going to get stuck one day,” she hisses as she looks in the bag. “How much for the butters?”
“Momma,” I huff and this time she rolls her eyes.
“If mine get stuck, so will yours. Is the salad in the fridge? All I had was some chips today and I’m starving.”
“The red bowl is yours.”
After washing my hands at the sink, I walk to the fridge and pull out the bowl. It’s a big bowl, more than enough to share. “Rebel is going to be happy. She asked me to bring her a plate,” I say as I grab a spoon.
“And you can take her some of the lasagna too, enough for all of them. Kassir’s little boy is so cute. I can’t wait until I have a little baby around here.”
“You trying to get pregnant?” I tsk because she already knows I’m not ready for a baby.
“Teaira!” she scoffs. “I’m almost fifty. At least by fifty-two, I should have a little grandbaby. Don’t wait until I’m too old. I still want to be popping and be able to play with mine.”
“Well, if in two years, I’m out of the ER and married to a man like daddy with a fat ass rock on my finger, you might…mightget a grandchild. But if not, you will just have to wait. Mkay!” I stress.
Ever since Rebel brought Kassir’s little boy, Kassan, over here, my mom has been on me about me having a baby. Not a week goes by that I don’t hear this shit. It’s exhausting because a baby truly isn’t in the cards for me until some major things happen in my life. I’m just not in a place where I can see myself being the kind of mom I had and that would be the worst part.
“Well, are you at least working on a husband? I don’t know the last time I met one of your friends.”
“Can I just enjoy this salad in peace?”
“Nope. My food comes with questions and I need answers. Grab that wine out of the fridge so we can talk,” she says.
As soon as I’m in my ride, my damn cell rings. When I look at the screen, I see it’s Paxton, one of my agents. I have two. Paxton is my NIL agent and he handles all of my name, image, and likeness deals. Jase McCormick, Mick, is my sports agent and he’s working on securing my endgame and ultimate dream—a professional contract, hopefully with the Royals. I knew from the cradle that I wanted to sport a Crescent Falls Royals jersey and all of my hard work has been to actually accomplish that shit.
“Run it,” I answer.
“Did I catch you at a good time?” he asks.
“You always do,” I tell him because he does.
