Whatever you do, don't let 'em see you sweat.
-- Charlotte
Hey, beautiful. Just thought I'll let you know I'm thinking about you.
I couldn't help but smile ear-to-ear as I reread the text message more than three times. Zamir is truly heaven sent -- everything that Quadir isn't.
I looked over at him bobbing and weaving in and between cars as we drove damn near 85 miles a hour down the freeway. Lord, please don't let this fool kill us, I prayed as I replied to Zamir's text.
"Why the fuck you always on yo' phone?" Quadir rudely holler while trying to snatch it away, "I'm yo' man, but that hoe get more attention than me!"
I roll my eyes, sucking my teeth as I slipped my phone away in my pocket, "There happy? Fucking cry baby."
One corner of his lips turns upward in a smirk as he reaches over and pinch my left cheek, "I love you, girl."
"Whatever," I fan his hand away, "Move!"
He laughs, finally taking our expected exit off of the road. I swear by the way he was driving you would've thought this nigga was late for a interview or some shit -- but guess where we're going. His damn mama's house.
"Baby, I can't wait to get some of my mama's macaroni cheese and collard greens. They have a nigga full for days!" he happily boasted.
I look over at him with pleading eyes, "Qua, come on, don't go in there acting like I don't be feeding you 'cause you already know how your mama is."
He look taken aback, "And you do?" his face crack a smile, "You feed me, Char?"
I grin, knowing exactly what feed he's talking about and it defiantly wasn't no food. Even though I'm feeling Zamir, I know I can never joke with him like I always joke with Qua 'cause he's so serious. I love that I can always have fun with Quadir when he's not on that trip shit.
"We're here!" he announces like a kid that just made it to Disney Land.
I throw my hands up in joy and sarcastically let out a, "Yippee!"
Before I could even get my seat belt off he's already out of the car and making his jolly way up to his mama's two story, Victorian style home.
"Thanks for waiting," I mumble as I step out and shut my car door.
"Boy, you better wash your hands before you go in my pot!" I hear Mrs. Sara scold her son as soon as my foot hit her shiny, dark wooden floor.
The cozy, Honey, I'm home! atmosphere seems to cover me in love as I make my way to the middle of the nicely decorated house where they were, passing picture after picture of Quadir and his sisters and brothers.
"Go. Wash. Them. Damn. Hands," Mrs. Sara said through clinched teeth as she whacked her youngest son in the head with a wooden spoon with each word.
Qua jumps with each hit. "Aight! Aight, Ma! I am!"
"That's right, knock some sense into 'em, Mrs. Sara," I laugh.
"You know I will, girl," she smile, coming over to me with opened arms. "How you doing, Charlotte?"
I hug her thick frame, "I'm fine. How about yourself? Where's everybody?"
She waved her hand, "Chile, who knows--"
"Who cares?" Qua butted in, "That just mean more food for us, ain't that right, Momma?" He grinned with a mouth full of cheesy Mac and Cheese.
Mrs. Sara wrinkled her nose at the sight. "Yo' greedy ass."
He shook his head in delight at the full plate of greens, cornbread, smothered pork chops with rice, and macaroni in his hand, "A nigga feel like he ain't ate in years."
And like a bitch in a horror movie, Mrs. Sara's head slowly turned my way. "You don't cook, Charlotte? That's probably why my baby getting so skinny."
I mentally rolled my eyes. Did I not just tell this nigga not to say shit?! I put on a winning smile, "Mrs. Sara I cook almost every day--"
"Almost?!" she yelp, "girl, you better stop acting like you too cute to roll up them sleeves and clean some chitilings!" She shake her head, "These young girls these days don't know nothing about keeping no man."
Qua bit into his cornbread, "They showl don't, Mama."
As Mrs. Sara had her back turned I flipped him my middle finger. He laughed.
Mrs. Sara suddenly turned around looking offended, "Charlotte, now I know you didn't bring yo' ass in here and ain't gon' get no plate."
Qua shook his head at me, "Just rude."
I shot him a look of death before putting on my smile mask again, "You know how much I love your cooking, Mrs. Sara, of course I want a plate."
She smiled, "Well, get on over here and fix it then. Don't be acting like you shy."
I forced a laugh and went over to wash my hands in the stainless steel kitchen sink. I grabbed a glass plate from the cabinet (Mrs. Sara refuse to use paper ones) and turned around only to have another one in my face.
"Hook me up with seconds, baby," Quadir held his empty plate.
"Motherfu--"
Mrs. Sara cleared her throat before smiling warmly at me.
I pulled out my mask again, "of course, anything for you baby," I gushed as I snatched Quadir's plate.
Oooh, just wait until we make it home!
----------------------
A / N :
Charlotte's mask ---> :-)
Charlotte's face under her mask ---> >:-|
My face if you vote and comment ---> :-D
lol thanks for reading y'all!
