Page 4 of The Love Bully
I climbed out of bed. “Whatever, Orion. Hurry up and get up so you can take a shower and leave.”
This man shifted on his side, propped his head on his hand, then gave me that sexy smile that I fell in love with as a teenager. “I don’t know why it has to be like this, Marsh. Come on now. When you gonna let that last piece of ice fall from your heart so we can get this shit together. I’m trying to marry you before fifty-five, shit. You’re holding up the process, love.”
I turned around to gawk at his ass. “Orion, you are fifty-five. What the hell?”
“Exactly! Before the clock strikes midnight on the morning of my fifty-sixth birthday, you need to be Mrs. Orion Westin.”
I pulled my robe on and tied the belt to hold it in place. “Nigga, I’m not about to do this shit with you. Get your ass up. I’m going downstairs to cook breakfast, then I’m coming up here to take a shower. I have a full day today.”
I left him there in the room so that I could start my day. I turned on my music on my downstairs sound system, pulled out what I needed for breakfast, and got to cooking. I loved my house so much. The thing that I loved about it the most was that it was paid off. Last year, my boys and daughter paid to have my kitchen upgraded as a Mother’s Day gift. Orion gave me a new luxury SUV.
Like I often did, I lost track of time as I sang, danced, and cooked. When I heard the knock at my front door, then the ding that indicated someone walked in, I wanted to kick my own ass. Orion’s slow ass was still upstairs. I knew his ass did it on purpose too.
“Ma Marsha, where you at?” Bruqlyn’s voice broke through the music. “You’re in here jammin’ as usual.”
I came out of the kitchen and stopped at the adorable sight before me. My grandbaby, Bridgette Nomae Westin, had her boogie shoes on and was doing her little hip rock dance. “Look a Grammie’s baby! You better dance.”
I did a shimmy with my beautiful grandbaby before I picked her up to kiss her cheek. She wrapped her little two-year-old arms around me the best that she could. “Love you, Gammie.”
She refused to put that ‘r’ in grammie. That was alright, though, because she was so bright and smart. Between her God-given intelligence and Norma schooling her three days a week, Bridgette was ahead of the game.
The entire time that Bruqlyn was pregnant, she was so worried about her baby having the vitiligo skin disorder. Euri comforted her as much as he could, but it was something that she had to make peace with herself. She and Euri were married when she was two months pregnant.
When my grandbaby was born, there was no indication of the skin disorder. It was around nine months later when the first sign showed itself. It made her no less beautiful. If anything, it added to her beauty.
“I love you too, baby. Let’s eat some breakfast.” I moved to the kitchen nook where Bridgette’s high chair was. “What you got going on today, Bruq?”
She smiled. “I have a meeting with a bride and mother to sample their wedding reception options. I’m so excited!”
My daughter-in-love started her catering service,Bruqlyn Delish, six months ago. We were all so proud of her. When she got married, she wanted to continue to work at the diner and grocery store. Her husband shut that shit all the way down. He told her to pursue her degree, catering company, or both. Her amazing ass chose to do both.
I had no idea how she handled everything on her plate. It was like she created more hours in the day. With being a business owner, student, mom, and wife, she still managed to cook every day, keep a clean house, and love everyone around her immensely. I was worried she would get overwhelmed. I suggested a housekeeper, and Euri thought it was a great idea.
“I am so proud of you, baby. How many are you catering for?” I asked her as I strapped Bridgette into her high chair. I walked over to the stove to fix her plate.
My hand that held the serving spoon for the eggs froze in mid-air at the sound of his voice.I hate this nigga so much!“Family, what y’all talking about down here?”
Bruqlyn’s and Bridgette’s heads snapped in his direction. Bridgette’s little limbs flailed. “Pop, Pop, Pop!”
This little girl revered all the men in her life. Her Dada, Pop, Arie, and Bran could do no wrong. I watched Orion walk over to our grandbaby with the most beautiful smile. Bridgette brought a new light to his eyes and life. “Hey, baby girl! You missed Pop?”
My eyes were on Orion, but Bruqlyn’s eyes were on me with a smirk displayed on her face. This was why I wanted him to get the hell out of my house. None of our kids knew that we fucked around. Yes, they speculated, but never had proof. This was as much proof as a person could get. My mouth ran before my brain could compute. “He was upstairs fixing a pipe.”
Bruqlyn’s arms crossed over her chest. “I bet he was. Hey, Pop Orion. How are you this morning?”
This man took Bridgette out of her seat, kissed her cheek, then walked over to my temple before he smacked my ass. My eyes closed because why, just why? “We’re good,” he responded.
With a tilted head, Bruqlyn asked, “Who is we, Pop Orion?” The giddiness in her voice made me want to gag. She enjoyed this.
Orion took a bacon off the plate next to the stove, took a bite, then handed the rest to Bridgette who was all too ready to munch on it. “We is me and my love here.”Smack!
“Orion, I will punch you in your ear if you smack my ass one more time,” I fussed. I knew him better than anyone, which was why my finger went up. “I promise if you say it, your ear will be ringing, nigga.” I spoke quietly. I tried to limit my bad language around the little one because she recently entered her ‘try to say what I hear’ phase.
Bruqlyn laughed before she held her hands up. “I’m going to stay out of grown people’s business. I’m not grown enough for this.” She walked over to Orion, who still held Bridgette, and kissed her baby on the cheek. “Bye, mama’s baby.”
With bacon grease hands, she waved and told her mama bye. Moments later, Bruqlyn was out of the door. I glared at this man that should have left my house a long time ago. “Orion, why would you do that? You know that you can’t bully me into being with you.”
He strapped Bridgette back into her high chair after she finished her piece of bacon. Once she was secured, he walked over to me where I stood in front of the stove. With tight eyes, he responded. “You bullied me into not being with you. I was taught to bully the bully, love.”
