Bloom

05 | double date

"Giselle, you don't hear me callin — girl, you in here sleep, that's why. Dinner's ready."

"I'm comin' ma." I yawn, picking up my phone to check the time. It's past six o' clock. I'm a little sweaty from falling asleep with thick sweatpants on and my mouth is bone dry.

The plate on the counter is has a hearty serving of neck-bones, white rice, and cornbread — my favorite. I grab it and thank my parents before taking a seat at the table and digging in. I halfway listen to them ramble on about topics that I'm uninterested in, getting up twenty minutes later to get seconds.

"Did Jamari do well when he went with Farad?" My mother asks, bringing her glass of ice water to her lips.

"Yeah he didn't cry or anything so that's good."

"Grandma's baby is tough, that's why." She chuckles. "Get that honey butter back out the fridge for yo' daddy."

"Yeah, he is." I say, putting the spoon back into the pot and opening the refrigerator door. Jamari's sad little face flashes through my mind as I closed the car door that night as well as Farad's disgusting comments and looks. I hand the honey butter to my dad and his eyebrows furrow.

"What's wrong?" He slowly grabs it without taking his eyes off of mine. I guess my thoughts have bled into my expression.

"Hmm?"

"Why are you lookin' like that?"

Because Farad is a weird ass nigga and I wish Jamari had a better daddy.

"No reason. I just miss my nephew a little bit."

"Aww look at you. He woulda loved dinner tonight, that's for sure." My mama giggles but my dad doesn't seem too convinced. He stands and places a kiss on my forehead.

"That's it?"

Should I tell the truth?

I only have two seconds to think it over before I raise anymore suspicion. I don't like Farad but I do want to keep the peace.

I'll let it slide this time but if it happens again...

"That's it, dad."

He nods his head briefly before returning his attention back to his meal, chatting with my mama about some movie they went to see and I devour plate number two, relieved.

I hate lying to my folks, man. Never again.

**********

Saturday, September 24 | 8:44 p.m.
Heated Prime - Michelin star restaurant

-

Head straight. Shoulders down, G. Don't walk so heavy! Relax your face. Gently place it down.

The guests at table number six smile warmly at me and I exhale through my nose, grateful for a smidgen of kindness during tonight's chaos. Friday's always bring out a full house and I've been running back and forth to please all types of people.

"Here you are, two plates of our New York style cheesecake with strawberries on the side for you." I set down the first plate of dessert in front of one of the guests at table number seven. "And strawberries on top for you." I place the second one down in front of the other man and he watches my every move, staring pointedly at my hips. They're both older men with graying beards, gold teeth, and dark brown skin.

"Can I get y'all anything else?" I clasp my hands together and the second man smirks while the first one ignores me and just digs into his food.