“You got me?”
“I got you.”
“Good, Because I got a little something, something for you. If I’m a couple minutes late, I’m blaming it on the gift.”
She snickers. “Girl, what you got? You must love me?”
“Yeah, I love you just a little bit. I was digging in the sales bins at Anna’s Holiday.” I mention a plus-size clothing boutique I stumbled upon near my home. Preparing for a family trip a while back, I’d bought a dress for Nan, something a little more exciting than her usual attire.
“Oh, Lawd! You love me. Ain’t no such thing as the sales bins. That place is expensive. Hell, my car can’t even half get up those big hills. Thank you, Chevelle.”
“Size eighteen, right?”
“Yes, sweetie.”
“It may’ve been a few months since we connected, but I remember how you’ve dropped a few pounds.”
Again, she squeals, “Thank—”
“Shit!” I scream.
A pearl white BMW crossover pulls into the oncoming lane, attempting to cut me off. An SUV honks. The luxury car zips back at the rear of me.
Concern in her voice, Justice asks, “What’s going on?”
“Sorry, Justice,” I sigh. “Some asshole is riding my ass. Got me screaming in your ear.”
Nobody drives the speed limit in these parts, which is crazy. The roads have a lot of curves, and no one takes them seriously. The thought reminds me of how my mom would clamp my cheeks when I played too hard near the church steps. She’d say, “Angels fly because they take themselves lightly.” There was something more to her statement, and I wish I could get it back. But it’s funny how we, as humans, remember what angers us, but the most tender moments vanish swiftly.
The BMW drifts into the opposite lane, speeds up, then swings right in front of my car. Wrapped in irritation, I forget all about the deep bend, merging onto the freeway. Suddenly, the wheels scream, treading over the asphalt. My car careens toward the guardrail.
Chapter 14
Leith
When I return to my parents’house to pick up Mia, my weeweanis in the center of their wooden four-poster bed. Customed-sized, the thing was huge. They had it made when we moved into this house. As I grew up, many of mybrathairsand I piled together to watch funny movies on thetellybox. We had a pretty good life growing up.
Now, it looks like a tornado ran through here. The blankets are on the ground, pillows all over. There’s an unidentifiable object in Mia’s hand. From observing the sticky residue on her face, I decide it has to be a gnarled, soggy pb&j, which comes in a close second to her Fruit Loops mania.
When her eyes flit from the television to me, Mia brightens. “Daddy!”
I hold my hands up. “Wait, lassie, dinna—do not move!”
It’s like watching Armageddon as a messy peanut butterpiecefalls from her hands, smearing the covers. Climbing over the discarded sandwich, Mia jolts off the bed. I’m jumped by my bairn, her sticky fingers flying everywhere. “Does this tickle, Daddy?”
“Nae, kid.Wit’sthis on yer hair?” I touch the plastic helmet covering her usual corky curls.
“Uh, I dunno.” She giggles, wee hands gluing wherever they land on my arms and stomach.
My mam exits the bathroom with a large towel in hand.
“Mam?Witare ye doing with my tiny human?”
Mam drapes the towel over a stuffed chair across the room. “I was ‘bout to give yer wee one askelpit lugfor asking me to sound like a leprechaun. I’ll have nae such talk of cruel, Irish creatures in my home, Mia.”
“Och, dinna let me stop ye. Beat the hag. But I’m referring to the hair,” I say as Mia gasps.
“Daddy! Don’t let Nan spank me!” Again, I’m assaulted by gluey fingers.