Preshus
"Hello, welcome to 'Just Mornings.' Can I have a name for your order?" "Godwin," I answered. "Thank you, go ahead with your order," she prompted. "Um, yes, let me get the family pack. Instead of the hash browns, let me get grits, scrambled eggs with cheese. Instead of toast, let me get yeast rolls, with the honey butter, and um, French toast. Oh, sausage patties, instead of links, along with the bacon. Thank you," I ordered. "Okay, do you want any drinks?" She prompted. Smiling slightly at her great customer service skills. "Yes, thanks for asking. Um, a gallon of apple juice, orange juice, and that dirty punch, thank you," I added."Okay, that will be sixty-five dollars and twenty-eight cents. Cash, credit, or debit?" She asked. "Cash," I answered, handing her seventy-five dollars. "Thank you, your change is," she began. "Keep the change," I interrupted, causing a beautiful smile to grace her lips. "Thank you, your order will be up shortly. You can have a seat in the waiting area," she expressed. Nodding, and turning on my heels, I took a seat. Today I plan to enjoy. Visiting my favorite cousins while taking in the festivities of the out of school bash. The owner of the projects holds one every year. This will be my last free day before summer really kicks in. Both of my businesses pick up during the summer months. I don't know what it is about summertime that makes people want to spend money, I'm here for it, whatever the reason maybe. Shit, I didn't always have money, so every penny means something to me. "Godwin, your order is ready," was called out by another individual.Placing my phone in my fanny pack, I stood. I just threw on something this morning. My clothes and things I plan to rock today are in my old school Chevy. I'll shower again and dress at Neesha's. "Thank you. Um, is it possible to have someone help me carry this out to my car?" I inquired nicely. I knew I ordered an ass of food, but damn. The way this shit is packaged, it looks like I'm bout to feed a damn nation. "No problem, lovely," he replied, with a wink, before stepping away from the pickup counter. Smiling slightly, I eyed the way he walked off. He's confident in his young age. He'll be smart to hold onto that confidence. It's a great attribute. "You need help, shawty?" A deep voice spoke from behind me. Turning, I came eye to eye with a young man. He couldn't be any older than seventeen or eighteen. Being six foot one, my height usually intimidates most men. But, young boys, like this one standing before me, only sees a phat ass, big thighs, and big breasts. To them,I'm just something to fuck. They could care less that I tower over them. "Um, it isn't shawty. It's Miss. Showing respect to a lady can take you real far, young man," I schooled him. He blanched slightly. If I had to guess, he didn't appreciate my words or tone. If the smirk he was wearing that has turned into a grimace is anything to go by. "Naww, it's stuck up, bitch. Carry that shit yo 'self, fucking big, bitch," he sneered. Giggling, while shaking my head. Po' thang, he's a clown. Grabbing my box of food, "I'll be back for my drinks," I let the other dude know. Walking off I heard, "You are so damn dumb. What she told yo ass was the truth. Even the boss done told you that shit. Every female ain't no damn shawty." Nodding in agreeance, I continued my trek to my car. Unlocking it after sitting the box on the trunk, I'm glad they have these parks for to-go order pick-ups. Placing the box on the floor of my passenger seat so, that it
doesn't fall over when I begin driving, I turned on my heels and walked back inside. The same guy was still standing at the pickup counter. His face was still holding a grimace, like that shit pose to scare me of something. "Thanks, sweetie. Here you go. Have an awesome day," I told the other worker, handing him five dollars. He ain't do shit, but he is respectful. "Thank you, ma'am. You have a great day. Please, come back to see us again," he expressed. Winking at him while grabbing my jugs, turning, I bumped into the other boy. "Excuse you," I stated. He didn't move. Sighing while counting to two. "Excuse you," I stated, again. He blinked, looking me up and down, still holding the grimace on his face. "You want me to move, move me. Sloppy, trick ass, bitch. Talkin' bout it ain't shawty. It's any muthafuckin thing I say it is. Fuck yah beastly ass. Yo ass should be grateful I even spoke to yo ass. Y'all bitches are a fucking trip. Get the fuck on. Enjoy yo food, eating ass, bitch," he taunted. "Corey," the other one hissed. "What? I ain't worrying bout this hoe," he spoke, chuckling. Unzipping my fanny, sliding my hand inside, I clicked the hammer on my Saturday night special. That heheheheing his ass was doing stopped. His eyes widened at the sound. "I got ya attention now? The only hoe, bitch ass, weak, motherfucka, in here, is yo dusty, dirty, dingy ass. I ain't happy yo yuck mouth ass spoke to me. Like, who the fuck is you? Sourpuss smelling, punk, summabitch. Grow the fuck up, wash yo balls, brush yo teeth, they bypassed yellow three shades ago. Do that shit, then maybe yah ass can step to a real woman. Bastard, I can buy and sell ten of yo no good ass. Bastard, check ya 'self. My bullets don't have a fucking name, but I can promise you, Corey, one got yah signature on it," I sneered, eying his ass down, causing his hungry looking ass to cower. Clucking my teeth while shaking my head. I bumped his scrawny ass, outta my way making his ass stumble. Leaving I heard,"Un huh, I told you so. She was bout to send yah ass on a slow fall to Hell. I can't wait 'til Melissa gets here. Her ass gonna watch this over and over. Big, bad, shit talking, Corey, got put in his place, and rightfully so, by a bad ass Amazon," the voice of the other boy taunted. Laughing, while shaking my head. Placing the jugs in the back on the floor, I then climbed in. It's gonna be beyond hawt today. It's already eighty-five degrees, and it's only eight o'clock in the morning. Turning my baby on, the air blasted, cooling the sweat that has formed on my skin in that short amount of time. I'm only about twenty minutes from LSC projects. I've been up since early this morning. Honestly, I haven't been to sleep from work last night. Hopefully, I'll be able to catch a mini power nap after I get to Neesha's. 'It's yah mama calling. Answer the phone, Preshus. Don't ignore me. You know I fight kids. It's yah mama calling. ' This what I get for letting her record her own ringtone, I thought before, "Hey, Mama," I sung, clicking my Bluetooth headset."Hey, baby. You heading to the court?" She spoke, in way of greeting. "Yes, ma'am, I stopped to get some breakfast. I didn't want Neesha cooking. She worked last night too. Plus, from our mini convo this morning, she done beat Ocean's ass. So, she needs to rest." "That's a damn shame. That girl gonna bite off more than she can chew one day. Neesha shouldn't be dealing with that. I mean, I respect her for not leaving her brother, but all that other shit is just too much. You know Mama Reed be filling me in on everything. That damn Ocean got a bad name attached to her lil' fast ass. And Sprinkle ain't shit," she let me know. Nodding my head in agreement as if she can see me. "All that's true, Mama. You know I've offered Neesha the apartment I own. She won't take it though. She just started back to school. She got a year and some change, not including the two years to get her specialty. Seaqual though, won't leave his mama," I added. "Well, prayfully, she'll begin to see something different. How was work? How's the dealership? I got something I wanna talk to you about," she let me know."Work is good, the dealership is good, and no, I don't mind if you marry Wilbur. He's a fine man. Plus, he's been like a stepfather to me. Long as you don't tell me you having a baby, I'm cool," I answered, stunning her into silence. Laughing at what I can imagine her face looks like. She never likes to be called on her stuff. It's not often that I'm able to shut her down. "Shut up, silly girl. I should've known yo nosy ass would have been all up in my business. And you know I can't have no more babies. God blessed me with my precious. We may adopt though, since his sons are grown too," she let me know. "Alright, no adoptions until you are wearing his last name. You end up being a new type of baby mama," I teased, causing her to giggle. "Hush up, Preshus. How bout you settle down and give me some grandbabies?" She fussed. "Umph, look at the time. I'm pulling up to LSC. You coming down here today?" I asked, changing the subject. "I'mma beat yah ass, Preshus. That was smooth, real smooth. You gonna get caught soon as you drop that I'm every woman façade. I done told you being independent doesn't mean yah heart doesn't need dependence. We may come down. Depends on what time Wilbur gets off. I don't know if I wanna be round them ill mannered, fast tail, lil heathens. I'll let you know though. You be safe down there. No fighting, Preshus. I love you," she let me know. "I love you too, Mama. I make no promises. You know how I feel about disrespect," I answered, truthfully. "Un huh, I know. Just be careful," she reiterated. "Yes, ma'am," I answered, clicking off my Bluetooth headset. The Bluetooth feature is the only thing I miss when driving my old school Chevy. Out of my Range Rover, Lexus SUV, and Phantom, my Chevy holds a special place in my heart. It belonged to my father, Phillip. My dad was, is, still my heart. He was murdered when I was fifteen. One night after dinner, he decided to go to the convenience store. Nothing out the ordinary. It was like his routine. He would do this on Friday and Saturday nights. I always got a treat, Mama did too. We were his special girls. Well, he went to get some chocolate candy, a loaf of bread, juice, a wine cooler for Mama, a beer for him, chips, cookies, a Powerball, along with a few scratch offs. As he was paying for his items, a crackhead, a well-known crackhead, stumbled into the store waving a gun, robbing it. My father stepped back from the counter. As the crackhead yelled for them to give them all their money, my father was doing that. In his crackhead ass mind, my father lunged at him. He fired one shot to his heart. The store clerk screamed, earning a shot to her shoulder. The crackhead finished what he started. He stole everything my father had on his person, down to his diamond wedding band. Also, the money from the register. Although the clerk tried to save my father's life, her efforts were null and void. He bled out on the dirty convenience store floor. Receiving that news crushed my whole world. My parents were my everything. My father, he was just that man. The crackhead got away, but was later found two weeks afterwards in an abandoned building, dead of an apparent overdose. It was said he got a hold of some bad shit. The death of my father caused my mother to go to work. She landed a job as an administrative assistant. Daddy had a life insurance policy, but it was just enough to bury him, pay off outstanding credit card bills, and some of the furniture they had just gone to Kimbrell's and purchased. Our house was paid off, due to something dealing with his job. Mama received some monthly benefits, I did too. My father was always a responsible man. He purchased this Chevy for me. His goal was to restore it, then give it to me for my sixteenth birthday. My mother kept it in the garage covered, just as he left it. Once I made enough money after paying for my college education, I paid to have it completely restored. I tried to give it to my mother, but she told me it was mine. I'm who my father meant to have it. In honor of him, his initials are stitched in the headrests, steering wheel, and in the middle of the backseat. It's my baby. I only take him out on the weekends. I cherish it, along with everything else I own. I worked my ass off to achieve everything that I have. "Umph, they doing it big this year, I see," I mumbled, driving through the court. Whoever took over the court got some bank. They throw back to school bash's, out of school bash's, they supply school supplies for all school age children including the one's that are in college. Rather it's a two-year, four-year, or trade school. They had a community center built, along with a gym and a swimming pool. They cleaned it up, but there's still dirt being done. It's just now, no one can see it, so no one is being harassed. Parking my car in the closest park to Neesha's apartment. Shutting it off, I sighed before getting out. Walking around the front, I opened the passenger door, grabbing the food first. "Preshus, I'm coming, boo!" Neesha yelled out. I should've known she would be sitting on the stoop waiting on me. We're three years apart, but thick as thieves. I just turned thirty, she's twenty-six, soon to be twenty-seven, on August first. "I don't know why I thought you would've gone back in the house after I talked to you earlier. You can grab the jugs of drink. I got this. I'll come back for my bags," I informed her. "Oh, girl, I got it. You look great. I love your hair," she complimented, grabbing my bags and the jugs. I touched my hair on instinct. I'm rocking this sister twist style my stylist did for me. I can usually rock it for a at least a month before I need a shampoo. My fire red highlights policy, but it was just enough to bury him, pay off outstanding credit card bills, and some of the furniture they had just gone to Kimbrell's and purchased. Our house was paid off, due to something dealing with his job. Mama received some monthly benefits, I did too. My father was always a responsible man. He purchased this Chevy for me. His goal was to restore it, then give it to me for my sixteenth birthday. My mother kept it in the garage covered, just as he left it. Once I made enough money after paying for my college education, I paid to have it completely restored. I tried to give it to my mother, but she told me it was mine. I'm who my father meant to have it. In honor of him, his initials are stitched in the headrests, steering wheel, and in the middle of the backseat. It's my baby. I only take him out on the weekends. I cherish it, along with everything else I own. I worked my ass off to achieve everything that I have. "Umph, they doing it big this year, I see," I mumbled, driving through the court. Whoever took over the court got some bank. They throw back to school bash's, out of school bash's, they supply school supplies for all school age children including the one's that are in college. Rather it's a two-year, four-year, or trade school. They had a community center built, along with a gym and a swimming pool. They cleaned it up, but there's still dirt being done. It's just now, no one can see it, so no one is being harassed. Parking my car in the closest park to Neesha's apartment. Shutting it off, I sighed before getting out. Walking around the front, I opened the passenger door, grabbing the food first. "Preshus, I'm coming, boo!" Neesha yelled out. I should've known she would be sitting on the stoop waiting on me. We're three years apart, but thick as thieves. I just turned thirty, she's twenty-six, soon to be twenty-seven, on August first. "I don't know why I thought you would've gone back in the house after I talked to you earlier. You can grab the jugs of drink. I got this. I'll come back for my bags," I informed her. "Oh, girl, I got it. You look great. I love your hair," she complimented, grabbing my bags and the jugs. I touched my hair on instinct. I'm rocking this sister twist style my stylist did for me. I can usually rock it for a at least a month before I need a shampoo. My fire red highlights stands out so damn good against my natural sandy brown hair. "Me? Naww, love, you out here shitting on me. You did your braids? Damn, I wish I could do a lil' bit of hair. I'mma need you to hook me up next weekend," I boasted, honestly, causing her to blush. She's so talented. Her skills were birthed out of need though. It's not her passion. Helping people is. She hates being labeled as a kitchen stylist. Now, it don't stop her from getting her coins. She just don't like being linked in with the ones who takes pride in hustling hair, babysitting, selling plates, and hiding their man's stash. "You know I do what I can. Sprinkle should be sleep. Her ass got her shit from Ocean, and haven't been out the room yet. Seaqual just got up. Ocean trying to get her face right so she can be seen today. A head's up, Kizzy nasty ass done been out this morning talkin' shit. I read her ass. She claims we gonna be hating on her when she steps on the scene. You know that's straight up bullshit," she explained, in a rush. Shaking my head. These hating ass scallywags gonna learn one day. "Mama told me not to fight today. I told'er I make no promises. I ain't tryin' to go to jail today. Them hoes better receive subliminal messages, and go find some damn business," I added, following her up on the stoop. "Fa' real, fa' real," she agreed, opening the front door. "Hey, Preshus," Seaqual spoke, from the sectional. "Hey, handsome. I missed you. Wha'cha watching?" "I am handsome, huh? The Chipmunks," he answered, chuckling some. "Yes, you are. Are you hungry?" I asked, giggling. He's so cute. He looks like a younger Chris Brown with hair. "Yes, ma'am. Neesha stopped me from eating cereal and wouldn't tell me why. She know I need my vitamins. Now, I'm glad I didn't. What you bring?" He questioned, walking into the kitchen. "I got a little bit of everything," I answered, unpacking the Styrofoam containers. "Damn, it's still warm. Seaqual, go wash your hands. I'll fix your food," Neesha stated. "Okay, be right back," he called out, running to the bathroom.