Distractions (D. SWING)

45

"I'll throw something on after this. I want to finish the dishes first— and can you please get off the island? I literally scrubbed it for fifteen minutes. That thing was full of sins, liquor rings, and jelly stains."

Jared squints. "Where do the sins come from?"

Flipping around to face Jared, I use to my wrist to glide across my fevered forehead that is trapping my hair in my own perspiration. "When you stayed in North Carolina for an extra three days and we were left alone." His jaw unhinges, falling into his lap, as DeVante and I both laugh in an equally obnoxious manner. Chronic flops down on her side, heaving. "My baby's just going through it all." DeVante takes upon himself to slide off the counter. He picks up a towel to place between his legs as he prepares to baby her.

The same way I get special treatment on my period, Chronic gets the hook up too. I know I have to advocate for her by woman's law. We're the only women in the house and I was the one who pleaded DeVante to not spay her. I didn't think it was fair since Skillz and Killa aren't neutered.

His large palm spreads across her belly as he rubs in soothing circles. "Damn, fat mama." He snickers aloud as the heaving canine whimpers in his lap. She never does bleed a lot, she mostly drizzles a little in the morning and a little at night then, she's done. "You gone be straight," he assures her. Chronic's biggest thing is her mood swings. Creating a habit out of comforting her, DeVante's head rises to face me. "You done yet?"

"You just got in the house!"

He smacks his lips, retorting back with a snappy reply. "And I'm ready to go."

I turn around in an instant and fling the towel out of my gripping in the direction of his head. His fast reflexes sharply reach to the catch the towel as if it were a second-hand motion. My eyes squint at his skills. He glares back at me. Jared's laughter is muffled by the food in his mouth that I failed to take note of as he entered. "I'll get dressed but you gotta' do the dishes then," I throw back.

"For what, Nel? We gotta' maid!"

We don't need one. Two and a half adults and three dogs live here. If I can keep my house clean, we should be able to do the same with DeVante's.

Ignoring him, I hop over the gate of the kitchen entrance. He is left in the kitchen with the babies as I skip up the stairs and make my way to the bedroom. I quickly step into my nearest clean Nike set and brush my hair up into a ponytail. When I skip back down the stairs, he's already in the car. Music already playing, I know he's ready to go. The clothing of choice today seems to be pretty nice, making me feel a little underdressed. It isn't until we've been driving for at least forty-five minutes that I speak up.

As a Mariah Carey song that I've never heard before plays, I lay slouched up in the passenger's seat. "Look at this," I point out as I reach across to run my fingers through his hair. "It's getting so long." DeVante doesn't say anything, he only flashes me a coy smile. "De, where are we going. We've been driving for like an hour."

"It's been thirty minutes."

My head rolls around on my shoulders in a state of shock as I take in his reply. "Wait, really?"

"Mhm."

I sit up in my seat and look out of the window. It's this New York traffic that is always throwing me off. "Why does it feel so much longer?" I look around the car, trying to distract myself from looking him up and down. Finally, I cannot take it anymore. "Why do you look so good?"

"Because I like to?" He laughs as the traffic begins to slow us down. He's allowed to, now, look me in the eye— though he keeps his hands in his lap attached to the bottom half of the steering wheel. He takes this as his moment to throw my question back into my face. "Why you look so good," he snakily questions.