“Aunt Lorraine bought us a bunch of new finger paints and she let me paint before we had lunch!”
“That was sweet of her,” I said as we walked through the front door.
“Hi,” I said, laying my purse on the couch.
“Hey, Kimberly! How’s it going?”
“Eh, not too bad. We’re still horribly slow at work,” I complained. “But I had a customer who tried to give me a $50 tip…that I refused!”
“Fifty dollars? Was it a big group? And why would you refuse a big tip?” Lorraine wondered as they sat down at her kitchen table.
“Yep, and no, it wasn’t a big group. It was some cocky rich white guy. I think he was only trying to give me a big tip like that because he wanted my number.”
“So what happened?” she inquired.
“I told him he could keep his tip because he wasn’t getting my number and took my ass in the back. Ain’t nobody got time for that. I’m trying to raise a baby, not make more.”
My friend glanced at me, “I know what you mean, but what if he turned out to be really nice?”
“Did you not hear the fact that he’s white? And arrogant?”
“Hmmm. You always seem to attract the most undesirable men.”
“Rachel and Sherry were trying to talk me into chasing him down to give him my number. He was built and had nice clothes, but I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship right now. And could you imagine me telling my momma and brothers that I was dating a white man?”
“I don’t blame you.” My friend agreed as she got up to grab a glass of water. “Hey, I wanted to ask you about something. Did anything happen to Nevaeh’s knees? She was complaining about them so I checked them out and they’re pretty swollen.”
“I meant to tell you about it this morning when I dropped her off, but she had me running late so I forgot. We have no clue what happened. I called her pediatrician this afternoon and I take her in on Thursday at 4:30.”
“Oh, okay. Nevaeh complained it hurts her to walk and anytime she bends her knees. I questioned whether she fell and she replied that she hadn’t.” Lorraine explained.
“I know, I asked her the same thing. By chance, did she run a temperature at all today?”
“No, why?”
“She ran an intermittent fever on my days off work. Janice, the doctor’s assistant, said not to worry too much about it, and explained that Nevaeh may have caught a bug or virus.”
“Oh, no, she didn’t seem feverish or flushed. She acted and played just fine. I’ll keep an eye on her the next couple of days when I have her, though. Would you guys like to stay for dinner tonight?”
“No, I grabbed us a bite to eat from work. She loves when I do that.”
“She always brags when you bring food home.” My friend acknowledged.
“Well, I guess I better go collect my rambunctious daughter and her things. We’ll visit you tomorrow.” I reported as I gathered Nevaeh’s bag and called her to the front door.
“Okay. Hey!” Lorraine stopped me. “You might want to watch her, she did something else weird today.”
“What?” I asked, concerned it had more to do with my daughter’s illness.
“It’s nothing bad, but she picked the scab off her arm and used the blood to create small red dots all over her body to pretend she had chicken pox,” Lorraine said laughing.
“Oh. My. God. No, she didn’t! I swear, my child has an imagination!” My daughter smirked at me and shook her head, agreeing with me.
“Momma, you brought us home dinner for tonight?” she asked as she opened the car door and saw the containers in the seat.
“Yep, I figured my little angel would love to have fancy food from my work.” I beamed in the rear view mirror as she buckled herself.
That night after my daughter was ready for bed, I sat down on the couch to relax before I went to sleep. As I watched the television program, I thought about the man who tried to give me the generous tip that afternoon. It was a wonderful gesture, but for a salad? Of course, he had motives, though. He was trying to impress me so he could talk to me. I was torn on what I should’ve done.
I drifted off on the couch as the television continued to play. A loud scream that came from Nevaeh’s room startled me from my slumber. I jumped up and ran to check on her. Nevaeh was sitting up in her bed, tearful while holding her legs.
“What’s wrong baby?” I asked, despite how sleepy I was as I tried to rub my eyes.