Snowfall [Tarasia]

SF 01

Fantasia

"I'm on my way," I said into the phone.
With the speed of someone on a mission, I made my way to my car while simultaneously loosening my necklace. Hitting the locks on the new Lam I had purchased, I snatched the damn tangled necklace off, throwing it in the passenger's side as I jumped in my car.

Not even giving a fuck that I was burning rubber, I sped out the car's previous parking space. With the precision of a NASCAR driver, I eased my way in and out of traffic as if there were no traffic guidelines or laws in place. My knuckles were damn near protruding out my skin as I gripped the steering wheel while trying to remain calm.

Beeep!

Obviously, somebody wasn't a fan of my driving and had no problems with letting me know as they proceeded to lay on their horn. I didn't even bother to give a fuck because I had much better things to worry 'bout. Not even fifteen minutes later, I was pulling up to Ms. Gloria's like a lion on the prowl.

"She's gone, Tasia," I heard her sweet voice say from the window she loved sitting in.
With a forced smile on my face, I walked into the house to find the most bitch made ass nigga, my brother Rayshawn playing with my daughter while Ms. Gloria sat in her favorite chair by the window.

"Mama, you're early!" My five-year-old daughter, Gianna, exclaimed as she ran into my arms. "It's not even dark out, and you're here." She smiled brightly before blessing me with her kisses.

Hearing Babygirl say that caused my stomach to drop a little. It was true in my line of business, I worked early mornings and late nights, but I never wanted Babygirl to feel like I was neglecting her. I know a lot about that. From the moment that I found out I was having a baby, nothing that I did was solely about me anymore. Every decision or move I made—I did in with my daughter in mind.

"You know I can't stay away from my princess for too long. I had to come and make sure you weren't running GG crazy," I told her before I started tickling her.

"Mama, nooo!" She yelled through her laughter.

Our little moment was ruined by the sound of someone clearing their throat in an aggressive manner. Sucking my teeth, I stopped my tickle attack on Gianna before placing a kiss on her cheek.

"Gianna, why don't you go finish picking up your toys in the playroom?"

"But I—"
"Hey, what do you do when an adult asks you to do something?" I cut her off.
   "I do it," she said through a pout.
     "Get to it then."
Even though I deeply couldn't stand my brother, I was teaching Babygirl to have manners and respect for adults. At the same time, Gianna knew that if somebody grown told her to do something, and it didn't sound— for instance, the whole good touch, bad touch scenario—she knew not to do it and come get me. I'd had no qualms about killing a mothafucka when it comes to my daughter no matter who it is.