Yeah...Thanks (Lennox Hills, #2)

by Jahquel J.

You are enough. You are the visual. You are THAT girl. You are 1 of 1. Can’t nobody do you like you can. You are stronger than yesterday, and tomorrow you will be stronger than today.

Kim was the main reason that Cam was out there hustling and trying to make a way. She was on his ass to help provide for her and his little brothers.

“Lennox,” she squealed with excitement. “How original.” Stori rolled her eyes. “I’m kidding. We decided on Jette.” “I know how you love different for the girls’ names, but huh?” “Her father owns one. Plus, who’s to say she wasn’t conceived on a jet? It’s unique, and I’m not switching the name. Bray even agreed that it’s a beautiful name for his little girl.” “If you like it, then I love it,”

“Ain’t you a plus-size influencer? Why in the fuck would I edit out the very thing you’re supposed to be?” I tucked my Black and Mild behind my ear and watched as she internally fought to answer my question. “Love yourself, stop worrying about what others gonna say… you got Ash shooting you… I got you,” I offered her some encouraging words.

I could smile in a picture and feel like I’m mentally dying, and nobody would ever know. That was the thing I loved about photography. You captured what you wanted to see, not the other way around.

“And when he does marry me… you’ll be the first person getting cut off. So, you better keep this job. You’re going to need it,” I slapped that poker face on without missing a beat and turned to climb back into my car.

Either way, I didn’t have time to sit and debate on who Cam would choose when he got out of prison. All I knew is that I would be fine with or without Cam because I had my own money and career.

We both knew she didn’t want to make the trip to see Cam because it didn’t offer her anything. Whenever Kim wasn’t getting anything in return, she didn’t want to do it.

“You still mad about your little pen pal?” “He has a name.” “Inmate 226?”

“I’ve been calling you all day. Is everything alright?” Briana’s first thought was to always worry, instead of considering that I could have been ignoring her.

Comparison was the theft of joy, so I never watched someone else’s grass because I was too busy making sure mine was watered.

Some nights I sat up and wondered why I chose to love such a callous and hurtful man. A man that would weaponize my weight when he couldn’t use anything else against me.

What would I be if I just gave up too quickly on Harlym? Where would Nikki Parker be if she gave up on the professor?

“You really playing into this regular guy role, huh?” “Nah, she suggested some restaurant in the Cosmo, but I really love Denny’s pancakes.”

“Breakfast? It’s nearly noon,” Harlym pointed out. “Didn’t know you were the breakfast police.”

It's always time for breakfast.

“Appreciate it.” “No problem. Let me know if there’s anything else that you may need,” her smile kind of reminded me of one of those creepy ass dolls.

“Why do I keep running into this man? It’s like he has some kind of tracker on me or something,”

“Those gray sweatpants showed me that he ain’t that little,” June bit down on her finger. “Oh God, June. Not you eye fucking him.” “I wasn’t. When he went to hug you that thing had a mind of its own.” “Oh, I know it.”

Each time I thought about the current state of my life, I took a huge swig and shed a tear.

There’s always going to be a table, but nobody is going to bring the same dish. Even if they do, that shit ain’t never going to taste the same.

“Then why does it matter who is doing what? Water your own grass before worrying about your neighbors.”

“I understand that this man had a record deal and could have been big but couldn’t stop doing the shit he was rapping about. Sounds like clown behavior to me.”

“Babe, this space out shit you keep doing is going to cause me to do an examination on you.” June waved her hands in front of my face.

I was proud of her for taking matters into her own hands. Who said you needed a man to have a child? With all the modern advances we had, you didn’t need a man for a damn thing. I was all for her getting a sperm donor and having her baby.

“Yeah. Weed is the only thing that can make hanging out with Ashton tolerable.”

“Taste some of these,” he shoved the cereal into my mouth. “What the hell?” I slapped his hands away and chewed the cereal. “I’ve had captain crunch before, asshole.”

“Not only can I outdrink you, but I can also promise that I won’t end up in your bed, Ashton.” I poured myself a shot, and then did the same for him. “Sounding real confident, huh?” “Yep.”

“You don’t remember telling me to eat you like a pumpkin pie?” “Wait, what?” she laughed and then covered her face. “Seriously? You kept screaming that shit out last night.”

Jonny laughed. “I told you to call me in the morning, and you insisted. I tried to send something smaller, and you acted like I had spit in your face.” “Sounds like me.”

“Thank you. You can be sweet when you wanna be. You’re like a sour patch kid,” I giggled. “Come taste me and let me know if I'm sour or sweet.” I rolled my eyes. “There you go.”

“I got good healthcare, too,” he winked. As someone who was considered self-employed I was inclined to stay married just for the damn health care. The health care in America was truly sick and twisted. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Ashton,” I pinched him.

“You really gonna stay after knowing your man home from prison?” he tried to guilt trip me. “I can’t just leave. I have a commitment to be here… you should have told me ahead of time.” “The fuck, Har. What is the point of it being a surprise?”

“Wrong question you should be asking.” “What question should I be asking then?” “If you didn’t meet him outside those prison gates, who did? Somebody had to have known he was being released.”

“Don’t be a fucking airhead.” “Excuse you?” “You’re excused. Acting like you didn’t hear what the hell I just said. Why the fuck would you abandon something that’s celebrating you? Any real man would never put you in a position where you have to choose them over yourself.”

“You really be moving like I can’t fire you.” “And who else is going to run your life?” She had a point, so I left the conversation about her employment alone - for now.

“What are you five? Does Quan hold the sixty-four count crayons and you have the twenty-four count? Go on tour, prove that you’re up next and leave it with that. What else are you going to do, Cam? Sit here and do pointless interviews that aren’t doing anything for you?”

Cam wanted everyone to worship the floor he walked on and he never wanted to do any work to gain that kind of support.

“You act like you were this thick when I went in.” “And your hairline didn’t look so pushed back, but do you see me complaining?” The car pulled up in front of Cam’s building. “You a disrespectful little bitch. And you wonder why the fuck I don’t tell you shit.” The driver came around the car and opened the back door for me. “Whatever, Cam.”

How do you tell someone that you planned everything with that you didn’t want them anymore?

“Using me to make you feel good because that nigga can’t or won’t.” I didn’t expect for his words to sting the way that they did.

“I don’t ever want to part ways without a kiss,” he stressed. “Be mad with me all you want… don’t leave me without a kiss, Pum.”

“You think I would have sex with you on my period?” “Why not? I’m always down to run a red light,” I grinned while rubbing my hands together and staring at her.

I had always been the funny and easy-going family member. If I wasn’t there to joke on Mom’s turkey at thanksgiving, who would?

Grief was a double edge sword that constantly stabbed you from either side.

I hated leaving the house because it took too much energy to pretend. Pretend like I was alright when I was dying on the inside.

“You a maintenance man or something?” he tried to pretend like he didn’t know who I was. “Would a maintenance man be wearing a thousand-dollar shirt? You can read,” I pointed to the label of the shirt. “What’s good, Cam? You here for a reason?” “How you at my girl’s crib asking me questions?”

“Playing errand boy for my wife,” I smirked knowing I had struck a nerve with his ass. “The fuck you even chatting about?” “It means that I'm her husband. Doesn’t matter if she told you or not, I'm telling you. All that other fuck shit you did to her is over. Because I respect her, I'm gonna let her tell you it’s over. Don’t come by her crib no more or try to see her ass. Fuck ass nigga,” I grilled him, as he stood there with even more confusion spread across his face.

If I had to guess the kind of kid Harlym was, she was one of those kids that shuffled around in those plastic kitten heels with a purse filled with fake lipstick. I knew she wasn’t the type that played mama to her dolls. She was the Fisher Price It girl.

Everyone who knew me knew not to call me early in the morning. Mornings were reserved for sleep, and the good kind. The kind that allowed drool to fall out of your mouth and form a small pool on the edge of your favorite pillow. That was the kind of sleep I could have been getting if my phone didn’t pull me out of it.

“Yes. The brie cheese is in there. I’m not going back to that cheese shop again, Enzo. That cheese cost sixty dollars and it was a thirty-minute drive.”