In The Unlikely Event [updates begin may 3]

07 | box braids

a/n i forgot today was friday because i spent the whole day holed up in my bed. vote, comment, follow and enjoy frens. 

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Tamara's boisterous voice travelled from downstairs to cut through the soft humming of music playing from my earbuds.

"Hey, Ms. Badmus. Mr. Badmus. I saw the grill outside; looks good," she said and taking out my earbuds, I heard the sound of her footsteps travel further inside.

"Hey, Tamara," Ma greeted, "How's your mama? Hakeem? It's been a while since I've seen y'all. Everything going well at home? How's your mama been feeling?"

"Hey, Tamara." I heard Daddy also greet her.

"Everything's going well, Ms. Badmus. Mama is also doing better," she informed them.

"That's good. Addy's up in the bathroom. She's just finishing up her chores. You can stay down here with us. We just about to put a movie on."

"That's alright, Ms. Badmus. I'll just wait for Addy upstairs. I'm supposed to help her take her braids out once she's done," Tammy told them. Her voice and footsteps grew closer, informing me of her impending arrival as she climbed the stairs up.

"Alright, y'all take care. Lunch should be ready in a couple hours so, don't get lost in all those candy bars in your bag!" Ma warned, and I could hear the smile that peeked through in her voice.

A second later, the bathroom door opened, and Tammy's head popped out from behind it. A face splitting grin adorned her face as she entered and promptly perched herself atop the beige porcelain tile countertop. Off to the side, on the countertop, she picked up an eyebrow brush and flicked it off at me.

"Hey, you," she said sing-song before dumping her crossbody bag onto the matching beige porcelain tile on the floor.

I paused my music and raised an eyebrow as I stood up from where I was previously down, scrubbing away at the bathtub. "You here to help me or naw?"

"Hell naw. I'm already giving up my weekend helping you take our your crusty braids. I'm not gonna spend it helping you wash the bathroom too."

"Are we pretending you have any sort of social life to waste your weekend on that's not outside of my Netflix account?"

She hopped off the countertop and placed herself in front of me with a smile. " Your Honour, that's irrelevant and besides the point."

"So, you're not going to help me out here?"

"Nope. But I can watch Jason Statham continue his reign as the white man of my heart on your Netflix." She released a crackle of laughter before whirring around and walking out of the bathroom with one last flurry of a finger wave.

Finishing up in the bathroom, I walked into my room about 20 minutes later dripping wet, to see Tamara cocooned up under my comforter. My laptop sat open amidst the stash of candy that she smuggled in for us every week decorated my IKEA study desk. It was the only piece of furniture in my room--along with my bed--that hadn't suffered any sort of blemish from the assault of pink paint. The smell of paint still clung to the room, although it's been a few days since Uncle Jayson finished painting. Tamara jerked her chin at the pink walls and asked the question we've all been wondering:

"Why pink?"

"Aunt Yvonne has a feeling," I told her as I plopped down, face first beside her, on the bed. "She's convinced the baby is a girl so, she's been splurging on girl clothes and shit."