"Uht UHHH!" Renee' frowned nudging Ivy's hand away as it reached for the big spoon laying on a napkin near the crockpot of steaming greens cooked with hamhock. "Ivy, now you know I better than to walk into my kitchen and touch food without washing your hands. Go wash up," she waved to the kitchen opening.
Ivy had nearly forgotten how anal her mama was about hand-washing. Through her youth, it was always the rule. Even through all the shit they'd gone through with her father being a rolling stone and her brother scamming everyone and their alopecia mamas, always in trouble. Her mom always found a way to care about the most simple shit. Ivy appreciated it. It brought a sense of normalcy.
"You shouldn't be hungry, YOU JUST ATE," Renee' yelled as Ivy scurried off to the bathroom, sudsing her hands quickly under the water. She looked at her phone noting a missed call from her brother as she dried her hands on the towel over the sink. He was probably hitting her up for cash.
"I can't help that you cook good," Ivy muttered marching into the kitchen to grab the metal spoon, scooping a small amount into a bowl. Despite her mama's glare, she stood there with a sneaky smirk next to the counter and picked at the greens with the pads of her fingers, eating the meat separately.
"Chile..." Renee' muttered shaking her head, humored as she retreated heading to her room. It was a small house in a fairly tame neighborhood. The neighbors were black. There were white folk across the street. Ivy had lived there and worked for a few years before going out on her own.
Once she'd gotten on her feet with her steady paycheck and the money she'd saved from summer jobs, she'd maintained and pushed from then on. It was rare that she needed her mama, she could typically handle herself. But these were rare times.
Ivy strolled to the comfortable hunter green living room couch, nestling into the soft cushion with her knee up, level with her chest. The couch had been donated to them by a member of her mom's church when they first moved. She turned on the television for background noise and ignored it, looking at her phone and hesitating with her finger over the call button. Her brother's name was right beneath the long white fingernail of her middle finger.
Riiing... Riiing...
"Hello? Ivy?"
Ivy's eyes rolled as her fingers tapped her thigh.
"Ivy?... You there? ...Ivy."
"What Ivan," Ivy asked calmly trying not to get smart.
"Yeah, you won't believe this sis. I started this business putting niggas on, all it took... was $400. They gimme the money... I help em flip it. Simple. Had niggas getting thousands back from the bank. You tryna make some money? I could get your rent and the payment for that Nissan payed off for you..."
"No thanks. That's all you wanted?"
"You don't want your phone bill payed? You could be shopping, what you want?"
"I'm not interested."
"How you not interested in money!?"
"So you getting your son from Tarsha this weekend?"
"Huh? Oh I'm not in town, I'm in Tampa," he pauses.
"Hm."
Ivan kisses his teeth. "I'm outta town! I can't get him right now," he reasons, voice high. In actuality, Ivan does what he wants and he's selfish. He never does what he's supposed to for that boy. His baby mamas have to chase him down.
"What's this about a stalker I hear?"
"Mama told you?" Ivy didn't expect her mom to say anything to him. What could he do anyways? He's across the country.
