Mama's Little Girls

forty-six

Beyoncé Knowles
3 November 2019
Bey's Car Garage

Taking time off wasn't something I'd seen Onika commit to, for real. But she was taking a few weeks off of work. It was my chance to get her to do some fun stuff, like being in the garage with me. It was my idea, but she agreed quickly.

She walked in looking fine. My eyes widened, and I had to stop mid-sip of my coffee. 

She was wearing a similar work suit to me, but hers was more Onika than anything I'd ever seen. It was winter, yet she was wearing something cropped. I mean, there was a little sun, but she was taking too much advantage of the tiny light. She had a red bandana around her curls, which was cute. But what really got me was her shoes. Like me, she had on Timbs, but hers were pink and laced up tight.

"You ain't had to dress up for this." I teased, leaning against the side of the car. 

"Dress up?" She arched a perfectly sculpted brow, then glanced down at herself. "This is my version of workwear, Bey. You're lucky I'm not in heels." 

I smirked. "Lucky, huh? We'll see about that. Come on." 

I guided her over to an old car that wasn't going anywhere. The thing had more rust than metal at this point. Just scraps. 

"First things first." I said, handing her a pair of gloves. "You gon' get messy. No way around it." 

She slid them on, wiggling her fingers dramatically. "Messy? You act like I don't get messy. You saw me after Raiya's glitter projects." 

I chuckled. "Glitter ain't got nothin' on motor oil, but we'll see how you do. Now, let's start simple. We're gonna change the oil." 

She watched closely as I explained the process. I watched her eyes concentrate on everything I was saying. She nodded, biting her lip in thought, which was distracting me. 

"Got it?" I asked, stepping back. 

"I think so." She crouched down, her jumpsuit tugged on all the right places as she reached under the car. 

"Onika, baby." I hesitated, watching what she was doing. 

"What?" She glanced back at me, with strands of hair already falling down her face.

"You 'bout to unscrew the wrong thing." 

She frowned, looking back under the car. "Well, why didn't you say so?" 

"I was tryna see how long it'd take you to notice." I said, grinning. 

She rolled her eyes but laughed. It was her cackle. Onika had her take laugh then her cackle, which she let out rarely when she was really having a good time. 

Just as she started getting the hang of things, Rita rolled up, her voice cutting through the sounds of the garage. 

"What is goin' on?" Rita said, fixing her glasses. Her eyes scanned Onika, who was wiping grease off her hands with a rag. 

How the hell she get grease on her hands when I gave her ass some gloves?

Onika gave her a mock glare. "I'm taking over this place." 

"Baby, where are your clothes?" Rita said, giving a fake scolding look. "You look like a model for the garage, not no damn mechanic." 

Onika laughed, throwing the rag at me like I was the one saying that. "I'm busy learning, Rita." 

"Learning?" Rita raised a brow at me. "What you got this girl doin', Bey?" 

"Changing oil, for now." I replied. "She ain't too bad. A natural."