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and even though I want nothing more than to be his woman, I’m still stuck on the sidelines. That’s all about to change though because I got some shit up my sleeve. As you can see, I don’t give up when there’s something that I want, and Terry is it. So Shanair and whoever the hell else better watch out because I’m playing for keeps.

Chapter 3
     
    Shanair
                  The bottom of my dress blows with each step I take down the long hallway. As I continue my stride, I look down at the strappy sandals that I’m wearing and groan. They are cute as hell. Any other time I would swear I was the shit, pregnant and all. I just wish I would have known that my damn feet and ankles were going to swell up twice their size before I left the house. No matter how cute I look right now, my damn feet are killing me. After rolling my eyes, I make a mental note to go out and buy a pair of comfy shoes to put in my truck just for instances like this. That way I won’t have to walk around hurting.
    With a limp in each of my steps, I turn down another hallway. As soon as my mother’s room comes into view, I stop in my tracks. I need to compose myself before I walk inside. It’s been a few days since I last saw her, and the last visit was extremely stressful. It started with her not having a clue as to who I was. That then turned into her believing that somehow I was my father’s baby’s mother. I remember one second sitting on the edge of her bed trying to tell her that I was not who she thought I was, to rushing to the other side of the room when she lunged at me. I had never seen my mother so angry in all my life, and that scared the shit out of me.
    There I was pregnant and being attacked by my mother, who as of lately has been slipping deeper and deeper into her illness. I watched helplessly as a few of the staff swiftly came into the room to restrain her, all while she yelled and called me every name in the book. It hurt me to see them handle her that way, but with the way she was acting, there was really nothing I could do. That night back at my house I cried myself to sleep because I wished that there was something I could do to aid my mother into being the woman she used to be. This illness that she has is slowly turning her into someone that has me cautious every time I come to see her. I know it isn’t her fault, but I’m truly afraid of what could transpire during this visit. Because of this I’m going to remain cautious and alert.
    Once my courage is built up as much as it could be, I take a few steps in the direction of her room until I’m standing directly outside the door. Slowly I peek my head in. My mother is standing at the window with her back to me. The long grey French braids that I had done the week prior hang loosely down her back and look like they are overdue for a touch-up. Redoing them was my plan the other day, but when she flipped out, I decided that I would save that for a later time. Taking baby steps, I walk into the room and clear my throat.
    “Oh, hey baby. I didn’t know that you were coming today.” My mother says as she turns around to face me.
    “Hey, how are you?” I ask nervously.
    I watch her as she walks towards me slowly. When she goes to reach out for me, I tense up. My body relaxes when I see that she’s only giving me a hug. Awkwardly, I wrap my arms around her, still wondering if she knows who I am or not.
    “I’m fine, but what’s wrong with you?”
    “Nothing,” I pause, allowing her to break our hug. “Momma, do you—do you know who I—do you know who I am?” I stammer looking at her perplexed.
    She tilts her head to the side and just stares at me for a moment before replying. “Shanair, of course, I know who you are. Are you sure that everything’s okay?” When I hear my name, I release a sigh of relief and give her a bright smile.
    “Yeah, I’m okay momma. I just missed you that’s all.” She has a confused look on her face when I pull her