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about her. I pray
every day that she changes. I don’t care if she hates me. I just want her to
live the best life she can.”
    “All I can say is: don’t give up on her.
Sometimes the older our kids get, the more they need us.”
    “ Liyah’s acting
like this to punish me. She’d rather ruin her life to get back at me than to live right.”
    “I’ll pray for you and her.” He took her
hand. “Everything will be all right. Don’t give up hope.”
    She stared into his comforting eyes and
then abruptly let go of his hand.
    He bit his bottom lip. “Hmm…so you and
your husband have done pretty well for yourselves, huh…Miss MBA from Harvard?”
    “We’ve done okay.” She beamed with pride.
“Patrick is an accountant for a law firm, and I made a nice living with Royal
Delights.”
    “I bet.”
    “Money is gonna be a bit tight now that
I’m divorced. But that’s to be expected.”
    “Are you going back to work?”
    “I’ve been thinking about it…nothing to
stand in my way now, right?”
    “Nope. The world is your oyster.”
    As he stared at her again, she held up the
Kindle. “Well…”
    “Let me leave you alone so you can read.”
He backed out of the door. “I’ll be in the rec room later, probably playing
some cards. Why don’t you come join us? Can you play cards?”
    “Yeah, but dominoes is my game.”
    He blew on his fingernails. “I happen to
be a dominoes champ.”
    She laughed. “I doubt you’re better than
me.”
    “Is that a challenge?” He walked to the
bed with his hand out. “Put your money where your mouth is.”
    “Okay.” She shook his hand. “When?”
    “How about six o’clock?” He winked. “It’s
you and I playing dominoes in the rec room, no holds barred…if you’re up for
it.”
    Layla lay against the headboard and
smiled. “I’ll take that challenge.”

 

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Aliyah flounced into Patrick’s kitchen
that night in a tight, spandex dress with her boobs popping out of the top and
her butt hanging out of the bottom.
    “What do you think?” she asked Shanti as she
spun around.
    Shanti stirred the pot of mashed potatoes
on the stove.   “I think you must be crazy
if you think Daddy’s not gonna kill you if he saw you in that ho-uniform.”
    “Daddy ain’t here, is he?” Aliyah patted
her hair that she’d piled over her head into a messy bouffant. “And this isn’t
a ho-uniform…like I’m supposed to listen to the opinion of someone who still
dresses like she watches Dora the Explorer.”
    “No, I dress my age unlike you.” Shanti pulled at her T-shirt. “And Momma would
flip if she saw all that makeup you got on. You look like you’re thirty years
old. Maybe if you focused more on school instead of how you look, you wouldn’t
be flunking.”
    “I’m going out,” Aliyah told her as she headed
out of the kitchen.
    “Wait a minute.” Shanti ran to the kitchen
doorway. “Get back in here.”
    Aliyah rolled her eyes and sashayed back
into the kitchen in her four-inch heels. “What?” She chomped gum. “My man’s
coming to pick me up in a minute.”
    “Your man,” Shanti mumbled on her way back
to the stove. “Which one is it this time? Some dude you picked up when you were
with another dude as usual?”
    “Hey, you want some ice in that haterade , lil ’ sis?”
    Shanti rolled her eyes.
    “I told you to stop getting in my
business.” Aliyah put her hand on her waist. “You’re starting to piss me off
like Layla.”
    “Don’t call her that.”
    “It’s her name isn’t it?” Aliyah went to
the stove and sniffed the garlic-flavored potatoes.
      “You
need to lay off her, for real.” Shanti checked the chicken in the oven. “I know
you’re upset, but this has been going on way too long. Why are you so angry?
She never did anything to you.”
    “I’m sick of her shit.” Aliyah batted her
fake eyelashes. “I can’t even have a fuckin’ life because of her crap.”
    Shanti turned off the potatoes. “You