HEART FOR HIRE ✓

Eighteen

"Can I sleep at yours tonight?" I ask Jeanette after the theater closes. Alex is long gone to meet his girlfriend and knowing that I don't have any laundry to do the next morning, I decide to do a sleepover with Jean. Just like the old times.

"Woah," she looks at me surprised. "Is the world ending? Did you hit your head on a stone? I can't believe my ears, they need to get checked-"

"Quit being dramatic. I just asked for a sleepover. I didn't give you a million."

"Can you blame me? It's been long since we did that. Don't you have mystery man's laundry to do tomorrow morning?"

"About that," my smile deflates. I don't want to think about that asshole. "That's why I want a sleepover. We need to catch up!"

Jeanette's place isn't like mine. Her's is a two bedroom apartment and not located in a crime infested area. It has a big kitchen because she loves cooking and makes some of the best meals I've tasted - besides my mum but Jeanette doesn't need to know.
She also loves flowers. Both the inside and the outside of the apartment have flowers all over.

"Welcome to my humble home," she ushers me inside as if I haven't been here countless times.

"This isn't a home, Jean. This is a greenhouse."

"You are exaggerating."

"You should start a greenhouse or flower shop. Or both," I suggest but then remember that she is also good at cooking. "Can you also start a restaurant? I will be a daily customer."

"And where do I get that money, madam customer?"

"Brandon is rich," I shrug, "he is your boyfriend. Let him provide."

"Brandon is also a mama's boy. Don't forget that."

"Come on, it can't be that bad. Just because he is a mama's boy doesn't mean that he won't support you. Talk to him."

She immediately slams one of the cupboard doors.
"He won't listen, I just know it," she cries out. "His mother doesn't like me already. I'm an uneducated black woman, almost like when she sees me, I have the word 'ghetto' tattooed to my forehead. She thinks I don't deserve her son. What will happen when I ask him for money?"

"What does Brandon say about all that?"

"He doesn't say anything. He says that his mother needs time to wrap her head about this relationship and stuff," she scoffs. "I could understand that but we've been together for almost a year. What more time does she need? What's so wrong with Brandon dating a black woman?"

I guess life has a way of making bad things happen to good people. Someone like Jeanette deserves the whole world. As selfless as she is, this world does not deserve her. She deserves some more.

Suddenly, she puts down the frying pan and rushes out of the kitchen. It's so sudden that I can't help but follow her.
The moment I find her throwing up in the bathroom, my fears are confirmed.

"Have you told him?" I ask her when we return to the kitchen

"He probably won't want a half-caste child too," she breaks down, falling into my arms. "I don't know how it happened. This wasn't supposed to happen."

"What are you going to do? How far are you?"

"Two months. Since January, that's when I last saw him."

"Last saw him?" I scoff. "What do you mean by that? You can't tell me that he hasn't come here for two whole months."

"He is busy, that's what he says. Yet, he won't stop posting Ariana or whatever that slim girl's name is. Why is this happening to me?"

I don't know the answer to that either. The only thought in my mind is how to find Brandon and cut his manhood off. He can't do that to my friend. No, he can't.

"That's why I took up more work at the theater. I want to be busy and not think about what he might be doing behind my back."

"But working yourself like that isn't good for the baby."

Jeanette shakes her head. "I have no idea if I should keep the baby of not. I can't possibly support a baby without him. You know how much raising a baby costs and I don't have that kind of money, Natalia."

"You don't have to make these decisions alone. You have Alex and I. Brandon must show responsibility for it as well."

"You think I can be a good mum?" she touches her belly and rubs it a little.

"I don't think so. I know so. You will be the best mother I know."

For the rest of the night, we binge watch shows on showmax since it's the cheapest streaming platform we can afford. I tell her about what happened with Zion and why Alex has been slacking off.
There are no pillows fights or doing make-up on each other. It's just a peaceful night with a lot of popcorn and soda.

For some reason, I feel like a dark cloud is hovering over us. It's the kind of feeling I get when something bad is about to happen.
The calm before the storm.
I can't think of anything that could possibly be worse that what's happening in my life but the feeling won't go away no matter how much I try shaking it off.

"Do you think you can go downtown tomorrow morning and buy some supplies? I think we need more cleaning detergent, popcorn material, cooking oil-"

"Relax," I tell her, "I will get it done. You have been taking care of me for so long, it's my turn to take care of you."

"I'm just pregnant, my limbs are not amputated."

"You are pregnant with my first godchild. So, no matter how much you argue, I will go downtown. Don't worry."

The night fades into a beautiful morning. Flowers blooming, butterflies flying around in the air, birds chirping.
It's a promising good day when I have to go downtown for the theater supplies.

Nothing, and I repeat, nothing in my life could have prepared me for the scene that welcomes me when I enter the first store.

What's your opinion on men who only and only trust their mothers' judgements (Mama's boys)?