I was looking forward to getting some sleep the next day; I could even take a nap. I smiled at the thought - sleeping and eating - two wonderful things so many people took for granted.
I carried the bags back to my apartment, then took a quick shower to get rid of the greasy smell of work before going to pick up my little boy.
I texted Dee to let her know I was on my way up. I didn't want to interrupt her if she was with a client.
“Timmy is sleeping,” she said, inviting me in. Her apartment was probably three times the size of mine. She had two bedrooms, one of which she’d transformed into a treatment room.
She is the reason I got the studio apartment I lived in.
I used to live in the Badlands, North Philly’s roughest area, with Opal. We had a place in a building full of prostitutes and drug dealers. It was not uncommon for us to come home to bloodstains in the corridors.
When I turned eighteen, Opal had decided to leave. I’d come back from school to find a note saying that she had decided I was old enough to take care of myself and that she needed to go take care of herself. I couldn’t blame her, really; she had sacrificed a lot for me. But then a few of her dealers had come knocking at my door, requesting me to pay for her debts either with money or an alternative payment.
When I’d missed a payment, one of them had tried to force himself on me. That day, Lady Luck had been on my side, all things considered. I had managed to escape, running the seven blocks to Dee’s place with a bloody nose, a swollen lip, and a ripped tee shirt. She had never let me leave.
After convincing the landlord to rent the minuscule studio flat to me at a discount, which she’d accomplished by offering to provide his wife with free treatments for the year, Raoul had left to pack up my stuff.
I’d managed to go to community college, taking night classes as I worked at Denny's. Things had started looking up until Opal and her boyfriend had shown up at my door. She was four months pregnant then and trying to get clean. Eddie was high, but kind.
“Have you heard a word I’ve said?”
I shook my head. “Sorry, I was thinking about Opal.”
She sighed. “That’s the problem, sweet girl. You have a hard time asking for help.”
“The tips at Denny’s were good today, and I’m off for two days.”
She nodded. “Okay, then you know what you’ll do? You’ll drop the kid off here in the morning and then go enjoy a ‘you’ day.”
“A me day?” I eyed her curiously. “How –”
She chuckled. “Just be the kid you still are. Go to the cinema, the museum, grab some junk food.”
“But - “
She shook her head. “No, just one day. You’ve been a full-time mother for six months. Just take one day. Self-care is not a luxury, sweet girl; it’s mandatory.”
“I need to go to the hospital tomorrow. I need to get Timmy’s meds renewed. It’s always -”
She shook her head. “Nice try, but Raoul will get them for you. He said he can get Timmy enrolled in the permanent program of renewal. Why didn't you ask him to do that earlier?”
“I didn’t want you to think I was using you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Please. You’re probably the most selfless person there is. Raoul has been working there for over twenty years. Now let me make you a hot chocolate with whipped cream and extra marshmallows”
“Thank you.” I beamed. When I was with Dee, I felt like a kid again. It felt nice; her maternal vibe was like a balm on my weary heart and I loved her like my own blood.
“Oh, the white bag on the console is for you,” She called from the kitchen
“Dee…”
“It’s not from me. Tasha dropped off my cosmetic order earlier and brought that bag for you. She said your marketing plan was working well.”
Looking in the bag, I found a bottle of Victoria’s Secret body lotion, numerous tubes of lipsticks, nail polish, and a few other frivolity items. I would not be able to afford any of it if it wasn’t for Tasha and her store. I usually traded my two years of college experience in Marketing for free goods.
“You deserve it, you know,” she said, coming back with the hot chocolate and two pieces of pie. “You’re good at it. Since you started helping me, my clientele has increased by fifty percent.”
I shrugged. “It’s nothing special.”
“Yes, it is, and you should finish your degree or get a better job.”
I sighed. “Denny understands Timmy’s situation. He knows that sometimes I might not be able to come in and on zero notice, but maybe after Timmy is better, I’ll go back to school.”
“You know, Raoul and I’ve talked about it and you only have a year left. We could -”
I raised my hand. “No, absolutely not! Never.” I shook my head. “You keep your hard-earned money. Please, don’t. It would break my heart.”
She sighed. “At least stay for dinner. I made jambalaya.”
I lit up. Dee was originally from Louisiana; her Cajun food was out of this world.
“You don’t have to ask twice!”
Once Timmy fell asleep after dinner, she painted my nails a vibrant red. I sighed with contentment on my way back to my studio. My belly was full and a sleepy Timmy laid in my arms.
I laid Timmy down for the night and smiled at his peaceful face. Today had started out quite darkly, but it had brightened in ways I hadn’t expected it to.
Maybe things have finally started to turn around, after all.
I was startled awake by a commanding knock on my door. I growled, looking at the clock. It was barely 8:00 a.m. and I had just managed to get Timmy back to sleep less than an hour ago.
Last night had been the first time in twenty-three days that I could sleep the full night through and somebody had to knock at my door. People never came to see me, especially not at that time.
The knocking turned more insistent, louder and louder - loud enough to wake Timmy from his slumber and make him wail in frustration.
“You and me both, kid, you and me both,” I mumbled, picking my nephew up and stumbling to the door, my brain still partially fogged with sleep.
I unlocked the door and froze just as I was about to open it. I realized, almost too late, that this could be one of Opal’s dealers who had finally found me. And then what? These men would have no consideration for a woman and a baby. All they wanted was money. Or something they could trade for money... I shivered at the thought.
“Open the door now, Miss Collins,” the firm, calm voice didn’t sound like any of Opal’s dealers. This voice lacked the unmistakable Philly drawl and none of them would ever call me or Opal ‘Miss’ anything. Our titles usually varied from “dumb bitch” to “fucking crackwhore" or something of that sort. They were always so classy.
I balanced Timmy on my hip and opened the door a sliver. It was just enough to see a man looking down the corridor, giving me a perfect view of his profile: chiseled jaw, long, straight nose, perfectly groomed, short beard, and dark hair in a tapered cut, which looked a bit like Leonardo Dicaprio's haircut in the Wolf of Wall Street. I looked down to detail his attire: impeccably shiny, black shoes, fancy, black suit, white shirt, and grey tie. Everything about him screamed money. Lots of it.