Keep It Movin' by L. Divine Page B

for something this serious.”
    â€œWho says it didn’t take? Trish ain’t feeling me like she was, no matter what she says and, well, Sandy’s just crazy so you can’t count her. You have to be patient, baby. Haven’t you learned that by now?”
    â€œNo, I guess I haven’t. Well, there is a chocolate brownie recipe that’s supposed to help sway the law in your favor.” I remember seeing it in the spirit book when I was looking for something else. “I just remember it having a lot of brown sugar in it and I know how you hate sweets.”
    â€œIf you make it I’ll love it. And you know brown sugar’s my favorite,” he says, turning me around and pulling me in close to him, kissing my lips like only he can.
    â€œI’ll see what I can do,” I say, giving in to his request. Maybe Mama would be willing to help me with this one.
    By the time we get to Netta’s Never Nappy Beauty Shop, her usual Saturday clients are already in the washbowl having their heads washed. Mama’s also in the back working on their hair products. When she has a lot to do for the shop, she’d rather make it all here than have to lug the products from our house. She’ll be in and out without Netta’s other clients seeing her, and that’s just how Mama likes it. Christmas and Kwanza wipe our supply of products out every year, and Mama and Netta make a killing on their gift baskets, but I never know exactly how much Mama makes. She keeps her money to herself and I don’t blame her.
    â€œJayd, the sweetest thing in the world is a baby,” Mama says while I mix together my concoction. I need a new braid spray and this should do the trick. I’m working on the rest of my hair products too, paying special attention to the needs of clients with cornrows. “Especially if you don’t have to deliver it.”
    â€œNow ain’t that the truth,” Netta says, walking in on our conversation. All of her clients are now under the blow-dryers for the next fifteen minutes or so, depending on their style, leaving her free to chat with us. “I loved each of your Mama’s babies when they were babies. That’s when they can do no wrong. But they do grow up, Jayd. And until then, they come with grown-ups of their own when they’re as little this little bottle of sunshine,” Netta says, passing my new phone to Mama and displaying the picture of Rahima and me.
    â€œNetta, what are you doing going through my stuff?” I reach for the phone but when Mama looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, I step back and let them eye my present from Rah.
    â€œWell isn’t this nice,” Mama says, inspecting my new cell like a DEA agent. “And the picture is so sweet.”
    â€œIsn’t it?” Netta takes control of stirring our new hair concoction for the time being. “They make a nice little family, don’t they? Too bad you and Rah are too young to get married.” Not in some states, but I’m not stupid enough to say it out loud and I pray my mother’s not listening.
    â€œThis baby is surrounded by a bunch of teenage fools—no offense,” Mama says, looking into my eyes. “Jayd, what did you dream about last night?” Damn, now she can read me when I have dreams too? I think her lock on me has gotten stronger since our shared vision on Christmas Eve. I guess there’s no sense in lying to her.
    â€œI dreamt I lost Rahima to Sandy, and Rah hated me. But I think it was because of something his mom said to me last night.”
    â€œWhat did she say?” Mama asks.
    â€œShe said that sweet girls never win.”
    â€œOh, that’s not true. It may seem like that initially but truth be told, it’s the sweet girls that win in the end. Bitches wear their asses and everyone else’s out eventually.” Netta’s a trip. She walks to the door and peeks out her head to check on her