Bloom

17 | sister, sister

Giselle "G" Rowe
Monday, November 14 | 12:08 p.m.
Little Tykes - Daycare

-

My stomach is in my ass as I stare up at the red bricked building decorated with colorful stickers in the windows. Most of them are cartoonish depictions of animals, letters, sunshine, and rainbows - the complete opposite of how I'm feeling. My heart and my mind battled the entire drive here, hoping that once I reached the parking lot, I'd have a more decisive answer.

"Now what you in a rush for? What, you tryna meet your maker, darling? Or you running out of time, huh?"

It's been four weeks since I've argued with Gabriella. This is the longest that I've ever gone without seeing my nephew and I'm completely fed up. She doesn't have to talk to me, but Jamari deserves to know the rest of his family.

Am I being entitled? Probably. I mean, he's not my child. I have no actual rights to him and just a few months ago, I was feeling overwhelmed with having to pick up his parents' slack. Guilt weighs my heart down over the memories of every single negative thought ever crept into my mind.

How could I have been so ungrateful? I need Jamari just as much as he needs me.

Shit, maybe I need him more.

Because here I am, sitting outside of his daycare, contemplating going in to check him out without even knowing if I'm on his pickup list. I'm about to risk looking stupid and creepy just to hold my nephew again — just to see for myself if he looks alright. I can't go another day knowing that he's been around his father without checking on him.

Either way, I'm crossing a boundary because Gab doesn't want us around him too much and I didn't even ask for her permission to come here.

"God bless me. God help me, oh."

I cut the engine and unbuckle my seatbelt, opening the car door and stepping out before I can talk myself out of it. Pulling the drawstrings on my hoodie, I shield myself from the cold wind and my anxiety lessons a little. The less people that can see, the more protected I feel.

I swear, if Gabriella didn't add my name, our next fight will be worst than the last. I don't five a fuck if I didn't give birth to him. None of that ever mattered until she got back cool with Farad. He is always the root of her nonsensical behavior.

The building is slightly heated and the waiting room smells decently fresh — a mixture between cleaning products, Elmer's glue, and bread. I'm at least proud that my sister had enough brains to put him in a relatively nice daycare.

One point for Gab.

The lady at the front desk smiles politely with a phone pressed to her ear. Her hair is pinned in a tight updo and her deep purple nails compliment her dark brown skin. She briefly holds a plump finger up as she brings the conversation to a close, placing the yellow receiver back on the hook. "Hi there, suga. What can I do for ya?"

Help me kidnap a child.

"I..umm...I'm here to pick up my nephew." I force a chuckle and immediately cringe.

Giselle, be cool. Damn!

"Okay! Your name and the child's name, please?" Her hands hover over the keyboard as she eyes the desktop in front of her.