Catch My Fall | ✔

11. Don't Tell Mommy

"Kennedy is already asleep and Carter will come up with every excuse in the book to stay up. Don't fall for it." Mrs. Wright told me while she and her husband scrambled to go.

It was already dark out and freezing when Indy dropped me off at the Wright's house. She left as soon as I got out of the car, using my babysitting as an alibi for whatever she was getting up to that night.

Mrs. and Mr. Wright looked like a power couple dresses in their best dress and suit. They were the perfect example of Black love. I wanted a relationship like theirs. Big house and adorable kids included.

That could be me. One day. If I stopped landing myself in the friend-zone.

Carter was up, following behind his dad, his Pikachu slippers smacking against the hardwood floors. "Can I come?"

"Next time, alright?" Mr. Wright said, rubbing Carter's head.

Carter's little face scrunched as he looked up at his dad. "Uncle PJ will have another wedding?"

Mrs. Wright snorted, causing her husband to laugh, but didn't comment. "Be good for Daya, okay, Carter?"

"I will, mommy." Mrs. Wright left a big kiss on his cheek and she and her husband left.

Once the front clicked close, Carter turned his round eyes to me. "Where are your pajamas?"

I glanced down at my jeans and oversized sweater. Kids never let you get away with anything. "I didn't need them, because I'm not going to sleep. You are."

"I have to use the restroom first."

That had to be one of his excuses to stay up later. Just to be on the safe side, I let him go. The five-year-old seemed a little too happy as he shut himself in the bathroom.

With Kennedy asleep and most of the house dark from lights being off, the Wright's enormous home seemed a lot creepier. Every sound seemed magnified. Especially the sounds I couldn't place.

Was that creaking because of the wind or was someone on the roof?

My phone rang, the sudden loud noise giving me a heart attack. Maybe my future husband and I will live in a small cozy house that didn't have a million rooms that a serial killer could hide in.

I accepted the call and pressed the phone to my ear. "What?

"Why do you sound out of breath?" Romeo asked.

"Because being alone in a big dark house is how slasher movies begin," I replied honestly, leaning back against the wall.

"You're not alone. You have two kids with you," he pointed out, but I could hear the mocking in his voice. "Maybe one of them will let you borrow a night light and blankie."

"Remember to say that during my eulogy after I'm brutally murdered."

"Already ahead of you," he said. "Is blankie spelled with 'I-E' or 'Y'?"

"I think it's A-S-S-H-O-L-E."

His laugh came over the line. "I actually called to let you know that it's snowing on the freeway."

I groaned, even though a little hope sprang to life deep in my chest. Snow was a rarity where we lived. If we did get any, even it melted the second it hit the ground, I made it a point to go play in it.

The last time it snowed, I was in middle school. I remembered the day clearly. Our science teacher let us out of class early to enjoy the very rare change of weather. A lot of other teachers had the same idea and for a moment, school was on pause.

The snow came, quick and heavy. It was up to our ankles by the time the bell rang and we had to get to our next class. Snowballs were thrown, snowmen were made, and I was the happiest I'd ever been while on school grounds.