Daddy's Little Girls

Three

"How are my babies?" Shaylah exclaimed.

I rolled my eyes, walked to the couch, and sat to enjoy the show. After much opposition, I have given Shaylah my address and a time when she could come by later on after her persistence.

Diamond was stiff as a wooden doll when Shaylah hugged her. Desire and De'kiea just hugged her back.

"Uh... who you?" Diamond asked with one eyebrow raised. She walked away from Shaylah and came between my legs.

I smiled like that cat from Alice in Wonderland because my baby was loyal.

"Girls, you remember your Aunt Shay? She used to visit you guys when you were younger," I said, lying right through my teeth.

Shaylah glared at me, and I rolled my eyes and picked up Diamond.

Desirae went to her toy box in the corner, grabbed two dolls, walked over to Shay, and said, "You wanna play?"

Shay looked at me and smirked.

"Sure! I'd love to play Barbies."

De'keia and Desirae looked at their aunt as if she were a murderer. Shay had just stepped into hell, and I was loving it. Barbies were forbidden in our house because of their "demeaning stigma"—Marne's words and idea.

I bought my daughters Bratz and Liv dolls; they were multicultural and had "cuter clothes," according to Desirae.

"These are NOT Barbies!" De'keia screamed.

Shaylah jumped and looked at me for help. I looked away and became very engrossed in my carpet.

"Who wants grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup?" I yelled, walking to the kitchen.

All the girls ran into their playroom. The room was a teal color, had many windows, and was filled with all of their toys.

I grabbed my griddle from the kitchen cabinet.

"Shiloh hates gas stoves, and I remember you had an electric one before. So, why is there a gas stove here?"

I rolled my eyes.

I greased the surface of the griddle with Pam and ignited the stove top.

I took in a deep breath and then exhaled.

"She hated gas stoves. Note the past tense I used. I grew up with a gas stove, and I switched them when I realized electric wasn't my thing... not that it affects you at all." I gave her a bored look.

"Mhm." She walked around the island while ever so lightly grazing her fingertips along the granite.

"Why are you here?" I asked nonchalantly.

"To see my nieces and to deliver some news." She grinned.

She would have been an attractive woman if she never spoke nor had a personality.

Her eyes glinted in the kitchen light and then twinkled, making the green look more vibrant.

Just like Shiloh's.

"Please, God, tell me you're not reproducing," I said, looking up at the ceiling as I flipped a sandwich over.

"Haha. Very funny. But no. I'm filing for custody of the triplets." She pulled out a Manila folder.

For a second, I took her seriously, but I then thought, She can't do that!

"Yeah right. Why would you even want them?" I responded with a scoff.

"Because the girls need a mother figure, and I'm the closest thing to Shiloh."

I sneered at her accusation that I didn't provide my daughters with mother figures. "They have mother figures, and my wife doesn't need a replacement— especially not her jealous older sister."