Page 12 of Girl, We Go Together
“Ah, damn.” I rubbed my ear before creating some distance between us.
My moms was unpredictable once she put her hands on you. I remember when we were younger, she whooped both our asses for stepping on a Captain America action figure. I didn’t even deserve the whooping for real because I didn’t even fuck with his ass; I was a Wolverine fan. But I got whooped anyway because I was the oldest, and she told us both to clean up, which meant that I was supposed to clean behind Omari.
I sat beside him at one of the barstools on the outside of my mother’s kitchen island. I tried to find some comfort on the ugly ass gray suede chairs that I had paid for.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized for real this time.
Her back was facing me as she took some chicken wings out of the hot oil and placed them onto the plate, wrapped with a paper towel. She looked over her shoulder.
“Don’t let it happen again.”
“You got it.”
I turned my attention to my brother and saw that he was playing with one of his loose, scruffy braids.
“Get ya fucking hair done. You look a mess,” I said with disgust.
“Man, shut the fuck up. These bitches love me as I am,” he said proudly.
“They love you because you showboat your money.”
“You sound salty because you aren’thimanymore.”
My little brother had the game fucked up. I was him. Always would be. Shit, I was himothy. I scrunched my nose in annoyance before I told him about himself.
“Nigga—”
“Both of y’all shut the fuck up.”
Our mother turned around from the countertop, cursing us both out. She slapped down two plates in front of us with some fried chicken wings on them. Whenever my brother or I visited,she made sure to whip up something quick in the kitchen; it didn’t matter if we weren’t even staying long.
“I don’t give a damn if you’re him, her, or they, just eat and shut the fuck up,” she added before going to the sink to wash out the dishes she had just created.
“I’m not even hungry,” I mumbled under my breath.
“What did you just say?” she asked me without even turning around.
“Nothing,” I quickly spat out.
“I’ll take that,” Omari said as he slid my plate in front of him.
I had been over here a little too long, and I had a girl with a pretty smile, bright, round eyes, and a big ol' ass waiting for me.
“Aight, y’all. I showed my face, I’m out.”
I stood from my seat and then rounded the kitchen island to say goodbye to my moms. She was washing the dishes silently, as if she didn’t hear what I said.
“I’ll see you later, lady,” I said lowly before kissing the top of her head.
“Mmhmm,” she grumbled.
I hated to admit it, but I didn’t come around to visit my mother often. I bought her this house and tucked her away for safekeeping, and that wasn’t fair to her. I made a little promise to myself to start coming around more often. Her fifty-fifth birthday was just around the corner, and I had begun planning something very nice for her.
Once I told her my plans, she had my event planner putting in overtime. I didn’t mind the money I was kicking out because the night was going to be special for a very special woman. A birthday dinner party right in the heart of where we were from. East New York. I started to walk out of the kitchen, but Omari called out to me.
“Wait up, I gotta chop it up with you real fast.”
I didn’t know what my brother wanted to talk about, but this feeling in my gut told me that I wasn’t about to like whatever he had to say.
