Money by the Bags

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Damaris

The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was the darkness. How long have I been sleep? I asked myself as I sat up in the comfortable bed, trying my best to take in my dark surroundings. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood, stretching real good as a yawn escaped me. Where am I? was my next thought as I padded over to the bedroom door and swung it open, recalling last night at once. Slim was sitting on the couch smoking a blunt as he read through what looked like a business proposal. I don't know what possessed me to come to him in my time of need, but I was happy I did when he looked up at me and patted the seat next to him.

"Did you sleep good?" Slim asked, closing the folder and tossing it aside. "Considering the way you were snoring and drooling up my arm, I'm not accepting any answer other than 'yes.'"

"I was drooling?" I asked, placing a hand to my mouth.

"Just a little. It was cute," he said as an afterthought. "You ready to talk about yesterday over some food?"

My stomach answered with a loud growl. My cheeks reddened and Slim smiled at the sight. I tried to play it off with a coy, "I guess I could eat a bite."

"Stop playing like you ain't starving. You slept all day," he said, rising from his seat and holding his hand out to me. "I ain't know what you like, so I got a little bit of everything."

The kitchen table was looking like the best of UberEats: there were oxtails with rice and peas; half a chicken with rice and beans; pork chops; fried chicken with collard greens, yams, yellow rice, and baked macaroni and cheese, Rasta pasta with a side of jerk chicken; and a platter of tacos, burritos, and quesadillas. I wasn't sure where to start, so I picked up a taco and took a bite while planning my next move.

"I thought you might be Spanish," Slim said, studying me before taking a seat and pulling me into the one beside him. "The eyes kinda threw me off."

"Eh, I'm Spanish, but not the Spanish you're thinking," I said, pulling the plate of soul food towards me. "My mother's Spanish Spanish. Like European Spanish. As for my father, who fucking knows? Because yesterday I was blessed to find out that he wasn't the child molesting sack of shit I thought he was."

"Is that what's got you so upset?" Slim pressed, picking up the plate of oxtails and getting started on it.

I shrugged. "That and some other shit I won't even bother you with."

"You don't bother me," Slim said between bites. "Sometimes you drive me a little crazy, but it's well worth the it."

I wasn't sure why, but I kinds felt this weird feeling in my stomach at the mention of Slim enjoying my company. Of course I wasn't gonna let him know. "So if I don't bother you then why did you play me the night before last?"

"Like I told you, I was on some real childish shit, man. I got into an argument with an old friend of mine and it made my mood turn sour. Can we leave that in the past and focus on the present?" Slim asked, his exasperation on the topic evident.

Being that he was there for me when no one was, I guess I could let bygones be bygones. "I'm willing to squash it."

"Good, 'cause I can't stand when niggas bring up shit I ain't focused on no more. Now tell me, what the fuck happened to your face?"

I told Slim about he events of last night, not leaving out any details as I ate a little bit of everything. Slim listened without interrupting, nodding his head the entire time. I wasn't used to opening up for people, mainly since I thought it meant exposing people to your weaknesses, but it felt different as I poured my heart out to Slim. When I was finished, he leaned over and kissed me on the lips, gentle and lingering, which was the exact opposite of his demeanor.

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