Page 16 of Quiet as Kept
“Hi, sweet girl.”
Destin was too busy giving her dad a hard time to speak.
“Hey, Xarielle. Good morning.”
“Did you need help?” I asked him.
In all the years that I’ve known Kept, I’d never seen his biological mother. His skin was fair, and he did have cheekbones that were chiseled by God, but there was nothing about his features that gave me the impression that he was anything other than a light-skinned black man.
I’d also never seen Dakota and Destin’s mother. Both girls had sun-kissed, toasted brown skin, brown eyes, chubby cheeks, and dark hair. The curl pattern of their hair was pretty loose. While I knew that black hair came in all tones and textures, their hair did make me wonder about their ethnic make-up.
The brush and a wide-toothed comb came sliding across the island. “Thanks.”
Dakota’s hair was in the same ponytail it had been in the day before. I removed the ponytail holder and gently brushed the soft strands to make them neat. After gathering them, I wrapped the ponytail holder around them. She was as cute as a button.
“You’re soft.” She gazed up at me.
“Is your daddy not soft?” I asked teasingly, cutting my eyes to Kept.
“Not always,” she admitted.
“Hey.” He pretended to be offended. “I’m gentle.”
Destin screamed out her disagreement as he finished wrapping the scrunchie around her hair. We all laughed. He mushed her head playfully.
“Whatever. Eat your breakfast so we can go.”
Kept walked over to the refrigerator and took out one of those travel cups that were all the rage. They were expensive, and I had never really gotten the hype.
“I normally have a smoothie with my breakfast—strawberry, peaches, mango, maca, a little spinach, a little banana, and some coconut water.”
He walked over to me and held out the cup.
“Thank you.”
“There’s also granola, Greek yogurt, grab-and-go breakfast bars. Feel free to check the pantry and grab whatever looks good to you.”
“Wow,” I said as I stepped into the space. “Your pantry is bigger than my entire last apartment.”
I wanted another one of those parfaits he made for dessert the night before, but I figured that it would be quicker for me to just grab a granola bar.
“Ready.” I stepped out of the pantry.
“Yo, you have to stop acting like my house is the royal palace or something. You’re starting to make me feel self-conscious.”
My forehead scrunched, and my eyebrows slammed together in confusion.
“Wait. You’re feeling self-conscious about being successful?” I shook my head. “Don’t do that. That’s not my intention, Kept. I’m mentally cataloguing all of the splendor and fancifulness of your life. That way, when the girls are in school full-time and you have no need for a nanny, I’ll be able to remember what this life was like. Your house is like . . . a dream come true for me, a fantasy, something I’ve only ever seen on HGTV.”
I heard him mumble, “HGTV.” He wiped Destin’s mouth with a paper towel, then released her from her booster chair. “Let’s head out.”
We followed him into the garage. Amid several luxury vehicles sat Yo-Yo, my raggedy but hard-working truck.
“There’s my girl,” I said, smiling at the sight of her.
Kept turned around to face me. “Uh, speaking of your girl. I know she’s been your loyal companion for several years, so I’m hoping you won’t take this as shade or with offense.”
“You’re embarrassed by her?” I deadpanned flatly. If he was, I wouldn’t even be offended. Jackson Island wasn’t Beverly Hills, but I hadn’t seen any vehicles in the same shape as Yo-Yo on my drive into town.