Free What A Person Wants by Kris Bell Page B

ridiculous drama. But why would he? He doesn’t have anything to do with me or my suddenly crazy mother.
    “I think I might need you to come over to my mom’s house, like, right now.”
    “Why? What’s the matter? Is she okay?”
    “Well…” I began. I could hear my mom cussing someone out upstairs.  She refused to calm down. No point in interfering. It was pointless.
    “Well,” I repeated, “I think some women my mom’s boyfriend have been messing with are trying to come over here and start some drama. She’s upstairs right now getting ready to meet these chicks outside. She’s not listening to me. I don’t know if I should be worried or what.”
    Richie didn’t waste any time asking questions. He simply said, “Give me the address.”I did, and that was the end of the conversation. It was just in the nick of time, too. I heard a car pull up to the front of the apartment.
    I rushed to the front window and looked out hoping I didn’t see some chicks armed with baseball bats coming up the walk. I was relieved to see that it wasn’t them, but disturbed to see that it was Petey’s little girl, Sabrina. She was about 10-years-old and technically lived with Petey, but my mom kept her most days because her sorry excuse for a father always had something more important to do. What could be more important than spending time with your child? I don’t know, but since my mom had a big heart and looked at Sabrina as another daughter, she took it upon herself to play “mommy” with this little one. Not that I resented it.  Sabrina was a good child, but a part of me wished my mother did for me all the things she did for this kid who wasn’t even her own flesh and blood. That’s the drawback to having a young mother, I guess.
    I flung the front door open as Sabrina walked up, slinging her overstuffed book bag on her arm. I heard my mom fussing again. All sense of her Christianity was long gone by now.
    Sabrina heard the commotion as she walked through the door. “What’s going on with Mama?” she frowned.
    I stifled my fleeting jealousy and quickly donned a phone smile. “Nothing! Mom’s just a little upset. Why don’t you go upstairs and get your homework done?”
    The little girl immediately protested. “But it’s Friday. Mama never makes me do homework on Friday. Why can’t I go outside and play, Izzy? Is Mama upset with me?”
    I wanted to say, “She ain’t your mama!” but instead I replied, “Well, Brina, like I said, Mom is just a little upset. It’s not anything you did, honey, but I need you to go upstairs to your room for a few minutes. Then you can go outside and play for a while.”
    The last thing I wanted to do was put this little girl outside of the house and have these ghetto bitches pop up with unnecessary trouble. I didn’t want Sabrina to see them fighting her “mama." I prayed to God that I was blowing everything out of proportion, but something kept nagging me about the whole situation. I hoped Richie would get here soon. Lord knows I could use the reinforcements!
    “Izzy, I want a snack. Can you get me something? Please?”
    I looked at this little girl like she had lost her mind. I could’ve sworn I just told her to go upstairs and play in her room for a while. But I knew it wasn’t fair to take out my frustrations on her, so I kept my mouth shut and walked into the kitchen. I heard my mom fumbling around her room again at the same time I heard a car door slam. Oh, that’s gotta be Rich, I thought.  I grabbed a Capri Sun and small bag of mini Oreos and passed them over to Brina as I ushered her upstairs. I started to move a little faster, though, once I caught a glimpse of the front yard through the living room window. It wasn’t Rich.
    I damn near shoved Sabrina up the stairs as I talked a mile a minute to assure her that nothing was wrong. I’m sure she knew I was lying. Children are not as ignorant as we tend to think they are. But I couldn’t risk having her