Page 11 of Quiet as Kept
I took it, counted it, and stuffed it in my bra.
“It’s a pleasure doing business with you.” I smiled back at her. “You can pick it up any time before Thursday.”
“What you giving her money for?” Cassandra questioned.
“I’m buying her bed. She’s not taking it with her.”
“Right. I won’t need a bed to do my Only Fans. My new place has a stripper pole.”
Nisha sputtered. “What?”
I shrugged. “Zatoria said that I’m not really relocating. I’m just moving so I can do an Only Fans channel.”
Nisha looked her up and down. “You’d be more likely to have an Only Fans, Zatoria. Xari isn’t the cousin that’s willing to do anything to secure a bag.”
“Although I captured one with my new job!” I yelled loudly, pretending to twerk in my seat.
Nisha giggled. Cassandra and Zatoria frowned.
“Has she told you what this newsecretjob is?” Cassandra questioned Nisha.
“Nah, but I know that she’s a teacher. Maybe she’s going somewhere to help Oprah open another school for girls. Maybe she got a job being a tutor for kids on a television show—like Abbott Elementary. Bring me to Hollywood, cuzzo. I’ll be somebody famous’ personal hair stylist.”
I sat up and gave her five. “I know that’s right. As soon as I get the plug, you’re in, Nish.”
“JustNish?” Zatoria had the audacity to ask.
“You don’t even fuck with Xari like that.” Nisha reminded her.
While at the same time I said, “Yep, just Nish.”
Four
Kept
The loud rumbling of a muffler or some other raggedy car part caught my attention. The girls were down for their afternoon nap, and I hoped that the noisy snap, crackle, and pop of an obviously trap ass vehicle didn’t wake either one of them. I glanced down at my watch. I was expecting Xarielle’s arrival and figured it was probably her.
Stepping out of the front double doors and onto the front porch, my eyes immediately landed on the hooptie sitting on the cobblestones of my circular driveway.
“Dayum!” I muttered to myself.
Yahirah mentioned that Xarielle didn’t make money in her previous position, but I didn’t take the time to consider what that looked like. Now, I was confronted with the reality that her car was a piece of shit, and she’d driven said piece of shit over six hundred miles by herself. I sighed because she probably got here on a wing and a prayer. I would bet money that she wouldn’t even have had enough to fix the truck if it had broken down on the way here.
Where was the U-Haul carrying the rest of her things? I figured she would either be driving one, or have one trailing her, but nope. The only vehicle sitting in my driveway was a rusted out SUV.
I bounded down the steps toward her, watching as she exited the vehicle wearing khaki colored capris, sandals, and a T-shirt that read “But God.” Looking at the wreck of a truck she’d come down in, that T-shirt spoke volumes. Her braids were pulled into a ponytail that sat high on her head, and oversized shades rested on her button nose. Xarielle wasn’t glamorous, but she was that “girl next door” pretty—the kind of pretty that made you do a double-take because the visual was so pleasing to the eyes.
“Hey. Welcome.”
She gave me a smile that would’ve been perfect for a toothpaste ad. “Hey.”
I watched her move to the trunk.
“Do you have anything that you need help carrying in? Is the rest of your stuff coming later?”
She gestured to a large suitcase, a duffel bag, and an overpacked bookbag sitting comfortably in her otherwise empty trunk.
“This is everything I own.”