Mama's Little Girls

forty-seven

Onika Maraj
5 November 2019
Edgewood

Thanksgiving was approaching, and I was excited, seriously. The girls were already talking about how they'd fill their plates, even though we had another three weeks to go. Beyoncé and I had begun planning out what we'd be doing. Or, more accurately, Beyoncé had decided what she'd be doing, and I was only now realising that I wasn't included.

She had just dropped it casually, in our talk. "Thanksgiving with my family is about to be hell. You can do your thing with your people, like you always do, right?"

At first, I thought I'd misheard her. "Wait, what?"

She didn't even glance up from her phone, scrolling like it was nothing. "My family expecting me and the girls. Its annoying but it's tradition."

I mean, I wasn't even sure she had family, outside of the one she made out of the neighbourhood she lived in.

I blinked, caught off guard. "And you weren't planning to invite me?"

Her thumb paused mid-scroll, and she finally looked up. "I thought was comfortable celebrating with your folks. It's what you do." She was speaking genuinely, which made me a little upset, actually.

I sat back in my chair, trying to process what she was saying. "Bey, I've never even met your family. Don't you think it's about time I did? We've been together for too long. I've brought you to my family gatherings, introduced you to everyone. You know my parents, my cousins, my childhood friends. And I don't get the same?"

"First of all, baby, it's been like two months since we really got together." Her expression tightened just slightly, the way it did when she was trying not to show she was irritated. "It's different with my people." She said, her voice calm but with an edge that made me feel like I was walking into a trap.

"How?" I asked, confused. "You've met my whole family. They love you. I just don't understand why I can't meet yours. What's the big deal?"

"It ain't a big deal." She said, brushing it off. "My family is complicated. They not like yours."

Her tone was so final, so dismissive, that it made my stomach churn. "So what? I'm supposed to sit here while you go to some big family gathering I'm not invited to? You don't see how that makes me feel, Beyoncé?"

"I'm not excluding you." She said, but the words felt hollow. "You're welcome to do your own thing. We can celebrate together when I get back."

My temper started to flare. "Do my own thing? Bey, I'm not just your side activity. I'm your partner. Or is that just when it's convenient for you?"

Her brows shot up, and I could see the frustration building. "Don't start with that shit, Onika. You know ain't like that."

"Then what is it like?" I demanded. "Because from where I'm standing, it feels like you don't want your family to know about me."

Her eyes flashed, and for a second, I thought I'd really gotten to her. But instead of explaining, she shook her head and let out a dry laugh. "You making this bigger than it need to be. I'm telling you, my people are complicated. It's better this way."

"Better for who?" I shot back.

"Fo you, Onika!" She snapped, her voice finally rising. "Damn. Just doing too much."

I froze, staring at her in disbelief. My chest tightened, not from anger but from something deeper, something that hurt. She'd never raised her voice at me like that before.

For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of our breathing. I swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump in my throat. "Got it." I said quietly, standing up.