Many The Miles

Pat 13

Mia

I cooked like my life depended on it. Priscilla had a huge wedding to cover at a winery, John’s parents owned and frequented. It was a huge estate. And I was not going to set foot on it. “What if I”-

I cut Priscilla off because I promised cooking nothing else. “I know Karen was a lot, but I’m not going there. It will get messy, the last thing I need is messy.”

“I’m president of club fuck dem kids. If my baby daddy wants to be a stay-at-home dad. All power to him. He is a keeper.”

“I don’t want to lose my kids.”

“If you don’t consider the fact that you are never at your home with your kids. It’s like a never-ending sleep over for them. No stability…“

“If this was simple and easy…”

“Millionaire Rockstar, offers you a chance to run away and start a new life away from your cheating workaholic lying bastard”-

“I get it.”

“You gave up so much for them. And you never really saw yourself as a mom. Now you are thrust into motherhood with a lie. I’d take the way out.”

“Are your boys that bad?”

“Nope they give my husband something to do until I’m horny again.”

“I don’t know how my life ended up as a Tyler Perry script Madea, but please set me free.”

Priscilla laughed. “Hallelujer. Seriously, if John is half as crazy as his cousin, leave on the first thing smoking to New York.” Priscilla reached under the table in to a clay, baking pot I have only seen villagers use in my dad’s old home videos, of him backpacking through Peru. She pulled out an old brown envelope that was thick. “Don’t think of resisting, protesting, or leaving this here. You need to finish your house. And I’m giving you your money and Karen’s from the spa trip to do it. Just give you and your kids an actual home of your own.”

I hugged Priscilla. This was so kind from someone I hardly knew. “I don’t have a job for the mortgage. I was holding a pipe dream. And if I use my account I know John will track it. It’s my dream house and I want happy people in it.”

“Then as my assistant chef your ass better be happy. This way I don’t have to close the shop. Someone competent is always here,” she said shooting a glare at her husband’s clueless brother. He was a good waiter; nothing more or less could be expected. Not ever.

“You’re my fairygod Madea,” I said hugging her again. I had a real job again.

“So I can Busta cap in yo husband ass?”

“As long as he dies slowly.”

“Dark, I’m finally rubbing off on you. Sister,” she said being her dramatic self and hugging me.

“Where have you been the past few days. I stopped by your mom’s and you weren’t there. Your dad didn’t know where you were either. And Benji has the kids so I know for a fact you weren’t with him.”

I glanced up across the empty dinner table at John. He was moving his food around his plate and glaring at me.

I cleared my throat sure he was going to pop a blood vessel. “I’m working a few days a week. I met up with the chef from the retreat and she offered me her assistant chef position. I started last week.” I continued to eat savoring the distant on his face.

“You need for nothing, you want for nothing. What the hell would possess you to get a job?”

“You.” I smiled sweetly and innocently. “You tell everyone that I should be a caterer, and I do love cooking. It’s always been my love language. Why not capitalize on it? So, did I do good?”