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“Because his ass is married! Things couldn’t feel right under those circumstances!” That was Pauline, one of our stepmothers. “I wouldn’t have even thought about touching your daddy while your mother was living.”
I sighed. “Do I need to explain this again?”
“No. Pauline knows that man and his wife been separated for years, long before you came along. The one good thing about that negro is his decision to remain married to her after she got sick and couldn’t work so she could stay on his insurance. The problem was him expecting you to stay in limbo forever,” my father said, shooting Pauline a look that made her drop her head. One thing about my daddy—he did not play about me, no matter who the proposed opponent was.
“So, where you gonna stay?” Memphis asked, giving me a look that read: I know you ain’t staying here with the poly crew.
And I wasn’t.
Because ew!
“The space over my boutique, of course. No one’s leasing it right now and I always loved that apartment,” I replied.
“You’re gonna stay in Parkton?!” one of our other stepmothers, Denita, shrieked as she entered the kitchen. Everyone else in the room stared at me like I’d just sprouted an extra nose on my cheek, an extra arm out my ass, or a third titty on my forehead.
“Yes, in Parkton. That’s where my building is, remember? The one Daddy bought and gifted to me?”
“Shiddd, that was before the city became a war zone. It’s one thing to do business there. It’s another to live there. No, you can stay right here with us in this big-ass house,” my father insisted.
“Um, you do realize this house is in Parkton…right, Daddy?” I asked.
“This is The Village, not Parkton.”
“Okay, The Village is kind of a bedroom community to Parkton, but the two places literally touch! What’s the difference?”
“The difference is this ain’t Parkton! I said no and that’s final!”
“No? Memphis lives in Parkton!” I argued.
“I stay in a penthouse apartment located in the middle of the financial district with twenty-four-hour security, little sis. Not the ghetto.”
“My store is not in the ghetto!” I protested.
“Yeah, it is,” Daddy muttered.
I glanced around my father’s huge kitchen table at everyone watching us volley words back and forth like we were actually performing for them and shook my head. “Daddy, I appreciate your concern, and I love you. You know that. That goes for all of you, but I am forty-two years old. Daddy, you can’t give me orders and think I’m going to follow them. I’ll be fine in Parkton. I’ll get an alarm installed or something, but I won’t go from Marlon’s house to my father’s house at my big age.”
“You can stay with me,” Memphis suggested.
“I’m not staying with your mean ass. Plus, you only have one bedroom,” I said.
“I was going to offer you the bedroom and I’d sleep on the couch, but let me shut my mean self up and rescind my offer…heffa,” Memphis replied.
“Well…” Umber began.
“Umby, I love you, but ain’t no way I’m staying with you out in No Man’s Land,” I informed her.
“Wow,” Umber mumbled.
“Humph,” Daddy grunted. “Lilly, you always been so damn stubborn and headstrong just like your mama. I always loved that about her, and I love it about you. Go on and do what you want, and I’ll be here if you need me.” Daddy had the sentimental look in his eye that always appeared when he spoke of our mother.
Reaching across the table, I grasped his hand. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“You need some money?” Pauline offered, her usual way of trying to mend fences.
“No, I’m fine,” I said.
“Bullshit. Candy! Bring me my checkbook!” Daddy yelled to our third and final stepmother.
