Page 20 of Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming

AIMEE

A imee looks at her friends, waiting for their reactions. She just finished telling them about her date with Patrick. They sent texts earlier in the day, asking how it went, but Aimee wanted to wait until she saw them today so she could tell them face-to-face.

“I would have molly whopped Ms. Sheila’s ass,” Lyric finally speaks.

They’re at Linden’s Bookstore in a back room that serves as a makeshift green room for Aimee. She’s a participating author for a Q&A and book signing. She and the ladies got there early to set up and have a gathering.

“Seriously! What was she doing, acting like she’s the lady of the house at a house that ain’t even hers?” Bridget adds. “And can we talk about Patrick’s dig regarding Courtney always calling him instead of her?”

“What about it?” Aimee asks.

“Dr. Brown, you want to take this?” Bridget asks.

Suchi nods, “Certainly. While I don’t want to prescribe to harmful generalizations, Aims, if a female child who is at a very pivotal age—first menstruation, transitioning from elementary to middle school, maybe even having her first real crush—is more comfortable talking to her father than the primary parent she lives with, who is also female, then that speaks volumes about how Sheila’s parenting style probably doesn’t mesh well with Courtney’s personality. You said she has her own show, right?”

“Right.”

Suchi pulls out her phone. “What’s it called?”

“ Holding Court with Courtney Bryant. It’s on the Kids Space app.”

Kid’s Space is an app similar to IG, but for kids ages 12-17.

And the folks that run that app don’t play.

If an adult even whiffs around it, they’re flagged and banned immediately.

Parents have to download their own parental app to send messages to their kids.

The Kid’s Space app itself is strictly for children.

Suchi has access to the app through her work with kids. She looks it up, and they watch a few minutes of Courtney’s show.

“Hi! And welcome to Holding Court with Courtney Bryant . The show where I talk to kids about their dreams, goals and accomplishments. I’m your host, Courtney.

Today, we’ll be talking to eleven-year-old soccer phenom, Gabriel Vasquez, about how soccer has helped shaped his life and made him more confident.

Stay tuned after a word from our sponsors. ”

“Babygirl has sponsors. Damn, I can’t even get sponsors,” Bridget says, impressed.

“I see an amazing child with a bright and beautiful personality that she probably has to stifle around her mother. The best thing you can do, Aimee, is let Courtney know that she’s safe to be who she is around you.” Suchi explains.

“Really? That’s it. I feel like I should do more, Sooch. I want Courtney to like me.”

“And she will. Making her feel safe may sound obvious, but since we know that doesn’t always happen, doing so will make a huge difference.” Suchi pats Aimee on the shoulder.

“Patrick did say Sheila saw getting pregnant as a come up. If that’s the case, then Sheila may be realizing that using Courtney isn’t going to work much longer, and now you’re entering the picture. I’m telling you, that woman sees you and Courtney as threats,” Lyric says.

She takes out a compact from her purse and adds a dab of powder to Aimee’s nose. “You were shining,” she says when she’s done.

“Thanks.” Aimee smiles at Lyric. “Okay, me, I can see as a threat. But her own daughter? That’s just sick.”

“It is, but it’s no less prevalent. L’s right. To Sheila, Courtney’s usefulness is quickly ending,” Suchi asserts.

“Yep. Courtney already has a close relationship to her dad, so she doesn’t need her mom.

He fills the parental role for the both of them,” Bridget adds.

“Look at me, Lamar and the kids. I’m doing double duty in the parenting department my damn self.

And Lamar? I can’t remember the last time LJ and Tanya even talked to that man.

And they seem perfectly fine with that.”

“That’s a good point, and six years will go by in a flash. Next thing she knows, Courtney will be eighteen. And if she wanted to, Courtney could comfortably go no contact with Sheila,” Aimee comments.

“Patrick’s money all goes to Courtney. Everything goes to her.

Sheila is not his wife, so she gets nothing.

She knows that being married to Patrick comes with more than just a change of last name.

It comes with status and access to his wealth.

She’s his child’s mother, and you’re closer to the brass ring than she is,” Lyric points out.

“More like a wedding ring,” Suchi teases.

“That part.” Lyric nods.

There’s a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Aimee answers.

A bookstore employee named Olly opens the door. “We’re ready for you, Dr. Turner.”

“Thank you.” Aimee smiles.

Olly smiles back and exits.

As the ladies head for the door, Bridget chimes in, “If she goes too far, you want us to jump her, Aims?”

“I’ll definitely keep you posted.” Aimee nods.

Three hours later, Aimee is signing the last few people’s books and taking pictures with readers, while her girls all film her on their respective phones.

They’re each getting a different angle. That way Aimee can edit all the footage from the Q&A and the signing before posting everything on her social media.

She takes the book from the last person in line and asks, “Thank you for coming. Who should I make this out to?”

“Make it out to Sheila.”

Aimee looks up, and Sheila’s smirking at her.

Great . Now what the fuck is this about ?

“How can I help you?” Aimee asks flatly.

“You can sign my book and then stay away from Patrick.”

Aimee’s friends stop filming and surround her.

“I’ll sign your book, but that second thing is not happening,” Aimee replies.

“Look, I don’t know who you are, but I’ve been in that man’s life for twelve years. I should get to be his wife, not you.”

“‘I should get to be his wife?’ Jesus, it’s not like Aimee cut in front of you in line. The man’s not a merry-go-round.” Lyric rolls her eyes.

“Am I talking to you?” Sheila sneers.

“Do I look like I give a shit?” Lyric snaps back.

“It’s okay, L. I got this,” Aimee says.

“You don’t have shit, and you’re not going to have shit. You can’t disrupt our family. I won’t allow it.”

“I’m not disrupting anything. Patrick wants me. Not you. You need to get that through that cheap-ass wig down into your skull and let that shit marinate in your brain for a while. You’re being extra as hell for a man that doesn’t even want you.” Aimee shakes her head.

“He wanted me before, and he’ll want me again. This isn’t going to end with you two walking down the aisle.”

“Who said anything about marriage? Why do you keep bringing that up?” Aimee rolls her eyes.

“I’m not foolish. I know what I saw, and I see where this is going. I noticed how you two were looking at each other before you started sucking his dick in the garden.”

Aimee’s face heats up with embarrassment and rage.

How dare this bitch air out my personal business ! I’m at fucking work . This is my damn job .

Aimee sees Lyric head over to the two employees nearby, Olly and Leigh Ann. She hears Lyric mention San Fran Rom Fan Con, and all-expenses paid accommodations for both of them.

Because this bitch has no chill, my friend has to bribe folks to keep their mouth shut . What is her end goal ? Doesn’t she know the minute she leaves I’m calling Patrick ?

“So, you were watching us for a lot longer than you let on?” Aimee suggests.

“Whatever. Patrick doesn’t do relationships, and he’s never brought a woman home. We’re already a family. You need to leave us alone.”

She picks up her book and turns to leave, but right before she reaches the door, she turns and looks at the ladies before dumping Aimee’s book in the trash, then exits.

“You okay, Aims?” Suchi asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Dr. Turner, if that lady comes back, we can call the police,” Olly says.

“Thank you, Olly, but that’s okay.”

“And don’t worry, we have all kinds of strange things happen at book signings. We won’t say anything,” Leigh Ann mentions.

Aimee nods and says, “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

The last thing Aimee wants is a bunch of randoms on social media all in her business.

“Come on, Aimee. Let’s go,” Lyric says. She turns to Olly and Leigh Ann. “Thank you. I’ll be in contact.”

“Of course, Ms. Fuqua,” Leigh Ann says.

The ladies gather around Aimee and head out.

“We definitely should have jumped her,” Bridget says, making Aimee laugh.