The Worst Drug

•Starting Fresh•

      I don't feel tired but that could just be because I know I'll have to get up soon again anyways and that something could happen where Zavi needs me. It's not that I feel Idris doesn't have the capability to watch them on his own, it's just he can be...easily distracted. One kid could be in his arms while the other tries putting Cass in the stove and he'd have no idea until the "ding" to get it him out because he was looking for the bottle he misplaced.
"Hello?" I say answering my moms phone call.
"Hey...have you talked to your dad today?" She asks. My brows tug together in confusion, not sure why she would make a phone call to ask me that.
"No, he hasn't tried calling me or anything. Have you?" She scuffs, a normal signal that she's in a bad mood. Now I know why she called. Picking up my sandals from the closet I sit on the edge of the bed, still warm from Idris sitting. In the living room I can hear Ez babbling to him about something I'm sure he's half listening to.
"No, but then again he doesn't do much talking to me these days...pinche donto," she says with a long sigh. I can imagine my mother now, leant in the kitchen with a scowl on her face. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't call you to complain about your father...I'm just a little worried honestly. If you could ask Idris if he's spoke to him or-" She stops, voice cracking as she breaks down in tears.
"What's wrong?" I ask, my shoe falling from my dangling foot. She takes a moment to compose herself, sniffling back tears.
"H-He hasn't been home in three days. The last time he was here we-we were arguing because he was acting strange and when I asked about it he denied everything and-and now he's gone." Under her breath I hear her mumble something sounding like "I should have known better" but don't say anything, figuring it wasn't for me to hear.
Why wouldn't my dad tell my mom where he was going? He knows how she can get, especially when there's already problems going on. Him being away is fuel to whatever they're arguing about. I've learned though to not worry when he goes off the grid, figuring she'd be had to it as well. As much as he was always around growing up, there were times he'd be gone for days at a time with no word and looking back I was clueless.
"I'll ask him but I don't think he has either. Maybe you should talk to Sin," I suggest. If anyone has connects to finding someone it'd be him.
"I don't want to involve him," she says. The sound of crying makes me jump, thinking it's my own but quickly realize it's from her end of the line. Out of all things what shocks me the most is that he's left her alone with a new born. She only had my baby brother, Jewels, a month and a half ago and from what I've heard he's a hand full. I was a baby that needed attention, but he does as well in a way that it's only because he's a little, as my mom puts it, "little asshole." "I've got to go. I'll let you know if I find anything out, but please ask Idris."
"I will. Bye, love you," I tell her. The room door opens wider as I stand from the edge, my ligaments feelings awfully heavier than usual. Ez holds her new hairbrush in front of her, bright smile shining on her beautiful face. She looks so much like her father, and for that I'm grateful. Next to the other two the only thing setting her apart is the wild, golden locks of curls.
"Can can braid my hair please?" She asks, offering me the hair brush. My eyes widen looking at her crazy hair. I've tried styling it a few times, most of the time ending resorting to an easy twisted pigtails and buns. Whenever she sees little girls with braids she points out how pretty they are but because they looks so complicated I've never given them much of a try. Sitting back on the bed, I scoot back into the middle, tucking my legs under me.
"Come sit so I can do it," I tell her, patting the space in front of me. The skirt of her dress almost tangled between her legs as she rushes to the bed, brushing all her hair behind her for me to play with. This triggers the childhood memories of my mom doing my hair, torturing me with that horrific hair brush. Thankfully I had a mom who knew how to manage curls, but that didn't keep from nearly yanking it from my scalp everyday until I was finally old enough to do it myself and decided to let it grow.
"Can you braid it like my mom?" She asks, fiddling her fingers excited on her lap. Her words take me by surprise. Lately I've been momma, Aria hardly mentioned. As much as I'd like to act like a he didn't exist, like it's only been me in her life, I can't bring myself to do that. Aria did me wrong, but she was a good mother. I'd never purposely remove the memory of her for my own selfish desire to be her one and only momma.
"How'd your mom do it?" I ask her, forcing a cheery upper tone. She goes on explaining to me the best she can in her on little way that she wants four cornrows. Thankfully it's something we've done once before; it wasn't the best, but practice makes perfect. She stays as still as she can for a six year old getting their hair done, getting distracted by the notices in the living room. By now Zavi's awake and has Idris walking back and forth cradling her in his arms.
When her hair is finally finished I'm proud of the outcome. The braids in four rows tight on the top of her hair and leading into a bun at the back of her head. She smiles confidently in the mirror, gently grazing the braids. Idris walks in with the baby on his shoulder, his large hand rubbing up and down her small back. She lays on him quietly, shocking me that her yes are wide open when he's close enough to see.
"Melissa said we can come see the house after one," he says. I nod, not knowing what else to do. It wasn't anywhere in my plans to move anytime soon, this seeming just fine until he mentioned the need of more space with the kids growing up. If it weren't for my hate of change we'd probably moved by now. Cass needs his own room, needing out of a little girls room that I'm sure gives him nightmares of pink and baby dolls.
His eyes drop to Ez who's still admiring the look of her braids in the mirror. If I knew she liked the style so much I would have done it far sooner. "I told you momma would be able to do your hair. You look beautiful, my princess," he tells her, placing his hand on the top of her head. Hearing the way he talks to her makes my own heart flutter.
"I'm gonna show brother!" She tells us before hopping down. Standing up on my tip toes I get a good look at my baby's beautiful green eyes. She's definitely got more of my appearance than Idris, my eyes and nose but his mouth and skin. She sleeps so much I don't get to see them often. I think my babies are the only ones I'll be able to look at.
"She's in a pretty good mood. I think she likes me," he says with a cocky smile. I reach out for her, him bending down to make it easier. She whines as soon as I put my hands on her sides to take her, knowing she's about to leave her fathers arms. "And you not so much," he adds with a laugh. My eyes narrow you at him, letting go since I don't want to make her cry. "Guess all of you are daddy's girls."
"Whatever." Maybe I'm a tad jealous.
~~~~~~
~Idris's POV~
My eyes can hardly stick to the road with Vina beside me in this fucking dress. The little minx decided it was a good idea to ditch the idea of a bra, relying in the support of the wire in her dress. However, there's no padding and the air blowing in her has her nipples poking for attention. The sky blue fabric has ridden up on her thighs, the slit on the right side spread open leaving her leg completely exposed much to my delight. I keep my arm reached that way, my knuckles caressing throat smooth skin on her upper thigh and knee. It's a simple outfit, but fuck, does it have me shuffling in place.
The drive doesn't take as long as I was expecting, the twenty minute drive feeling more like ten taking the same road all the way out of town. The path reminds me of where we stayed, secluded but not completely away from everything. She doesn't want to be far and neither do I, this seems a comfortable distance for the both of us.
Her fingers grasp mine that are holding her thigh, twisting my rings as she looks silently out the window. The gps tells me to make a right turn, leading me to another path of dirt road and trees. Through the thick trunks and branches is the shining water of a lake. On the way we pass a few houses, much bigger than what I told Melissa we were needing. From what it looks like these houses are for families of seven, and I mean full grown kids too.
"It's really pretty here," she says, looking out my window to see the lake in the distance. My lips curl knowing she likes it so far. My fingers tighten their grip on her leg, making the next turn. Finally a house comes into view, Melissa and Val's familiar car parked in the front. The driveway goes for what seems is a mile or two, lined with large broken pieces of rock on both ends leading to the front of the house.