Beatrix

TWENTY

"It's three in the damn morning, who the hell is this," she said in a sleepy yet agitated tone.

"......R-Reagan."

Beatrix looked at his phone and placed it back on her ear. "Reagan?"

"Ziyanna's mother," she said lowly. "Is this Beatrix? I heard you was in a coma. You good?"

Beatrix slid out the bed and continued to talk on the phone. "Yeah, Reagan. You?"

"I just got released from upstate," she said. "I'm living with my grandma, right now. Hoping to get my baby back."

"Who?" Beatrix asked with a slight attitude. She had went downstairs to make her a drink.

"Ziyanna," she said. "She's all I been thinking about."

"I don't think Zane would be too happy to hear that," she said. "What do you mean get her back?"

"I want custody," she said. "That's my child, you don't understand what it's like to have a child."

"I actually do," she said with her hand on her hip. "I had twins and everything. Shit, I raised your child for the short time being."

"Zane's twins?" She asked in a hurt tone. "You had my baby's daddy's children and my baby? Was you trying to take my spot?"

"What spot, Reagan?" Beatrix sighed. "You think I put up with all Zane's bullshit just to make you jealous? You think I raised your Ziyanna spoiled ass to make you jealous? You sound real dumb."

"You know?" Reagan chuckled. "I knew this shit was going to happen. You were going to take my child and my man, just for the money."

"Regan, you was unstable to even know what the hell I had going on," she said. "Do you even remember you refusing to go to rehab to stay strong for your daughter? Don't call this phone again."

"I will," she objected. "That is not your child!"

"According to the papers I signed, I'm Ziyanna's legal guardian," she said. "Goodbye."

With that she hung up, looking off at nothing. She couldn't believe Reagan was out and was trying to take Ziyanna back.

•••

"Good morning," Beatrix greeted Zane as she cooked breakfast. Zane nodded and pecked her lips. Although they wasn't on good terms, they didn't want the kids to know.

"Coach Donavan doing football this summer, can I try out?" Ziggy asked dribbling his basketball.

"Son, stop dribbling that damn ball, before you break my nice ass antique and I have to break yo neck," he said. "And yeah. Do it, if you really interested."

Zane had left out to answer his ringing phone while Beatrix sat their plates down.

"Nixie, what sports do you like doing?" Beatrix smiled at her daughter who was reading Junie B. Jones.

"None," she shrugged. "I mean I would like to be a majorette like Ziyanna, but I don't know how."

"Well, this is the perfect time to start," she said. "Ziyanna was six when she started and look at her now."