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CHAPTERTEN
Kenya
If I survive the next few hours with Glamma Onyx, I might salvage the rest of my evening from being a complete dumpster fire. She is currently giving me the silent treatment as she sits on the passenger side of my car. Cameron insisted we have alone time so he’s driving her car back to my place.
Maybe if we hash things out I can get back some of the light and airy feeling from before I took Cameron to Roxy’s.
Light and airy, you say? Was it the freckled landscape, sea of green, or the wavy red strands that made it so good?
It was revisiting my old stomping grounds and remembering my time here as a kid! Stop forcing a deeper meaning into something so innocent.
I think it’s time for a new prescription. Glasses are supposed to help you see clearly, yet you’re blind to the truth staring you in the face. I really pity you in times like these.
I grind my teeth to hold an acidic response from escaping. I’ve heard of prescriptions that can silence voices so on top of my to-do list for tomorrow is finding a doctor. While Keating does her best to induce a stress ulcer, the tension builds within the small confines of my vehicle, piling more worry on my shoulders.
The silence is uncharacteristic of a woman as vibrant and outspoken as Onyx Richardson. I peek at her, but her averted posture does nothing to calm me. No matter how many attempts I make to start a conversation, nothing comes out of my parted lips. The privacy of my home will be a better venue for this discussion anyway.
The sullen mood stays with us until we enter my living room.
“The infamous Onyx Richardson has struck again. Do you ever get tired of being the town’s topic of conversation?” G-mama sits with her feet outstretched on my center table and Jackpot curled in her lap.
Glamma stills for a good ten seconds. “Laila, you of all people should know that haters gonna hate.” She releases a dramatic sigh and saunters over to G-mama. “I mean, look at me. I’ve got little Cheryl Lee spitting fire over a man who hasn’t looked her way since preschool.”
Relief unfurls the tension inside my body as some of Glamma’s original fire kindles anew. G-mama is one of the few who can reset Onyx to her factory settings, and I whisper a grateful prayer that she has. I haven’t cracked the code, but that could be because my relationship with Glamma Onyx isn’t rooted in animosity.
As G-mama opens her mouth to respond, I see my window of opportunity to clear the air closing fast.
“Glamma,” I say before G-mama says something else to rile her up, “When I talk to Mayor Salas tomorrow, I promise to settle things. I swear, I didn’t—”
“Baby girl, I know you didn’t do anything wrong.” She deserts G-mama to wrap me in her signature hug. “Cheryl Lee usually doesn’t get to me, but today she did and I got all up in my feelings.”
“If you stopped wrangling puppies, you wouldn’t be reenacting high school drama right now.” G-mama sets Jackpot on the ground and stands. “I can tell this is going to be one ofthosetalks.” Without a backward glance, she leaves the room.
The front door opens and closes. I shake my head, wondering why G-mama came over if all she wanted was to drop a few barbs and bounce. She could have waited and confronted Glamma at home.
Onyx collapses on the sofa. “One day I’m going to tie her up good and wrench that stick from her ass. After all these years and she still talks to me like I’m the pampered debutante from when we were younger.” She shakes her head but a wobbly smile escapes.
I sit next to her and hug her hand close to my chest. “You rarely mention those days when you were younger, or what caused you two to be on such bad terms.”
“And today will be like all the rest.” Glamma extracts her hand and pats me on the knee. “Enough about that gloomy Gus. Let’s discuss your new job.”
“I’d rather not. I’m hoping to resign when I meet with Pedro tomorrow.”
“Don’t, heading the committee is a great way for you to jump into the community again.”
“But what about…”
“What about Cheryl Lee’s stupidity? Baby girl, are you forgetting Laila and I have been throwing men at you left and right?”
“You more than G-mama.”
“And until that cool vanilla sundae walked through your doors, you weren’t having any of it. You have no interest in Mr. Salas, but if he’s set his eyes on you, I’ll pull all the guns out.”
“Why don’t you just let this one go? You’ve never worked this hard to get a man’s attention before. It’s screaming desperation.” G-mama returns with a tray. On it is a small bucket of ice, three cocktail glasses, and a pitcher of a pink and orange concoction.
“When I heard the door open, I thought that meant you’d left,” I say, wondering who came into my house earlier.
“That must have been Cameron. He was probably being thoughtful by giving us space.” G-mama set the tray on the center table and pours three generous glasses.
