We Didn't See It Coming Part 38

"I know...I miss her." Aniyah wiped away her tears.

"Let's go shopping. You don't need to dress like you're a loose girl." Tessa had witnessed her niece's dress code. The dress had risen up on Aniyah. It resembled a tunic shirt.

"I'll go shopping. But I'm not throwing away this dress."

"It's too little."

Aniyah saw her aunt glancing at her. She tugged at her dress, trying to cover her exposed thighs. "So I gained a few pounds. No big deal."

"After shopping, you'll trash it."

"This hot dress stays with me."

Tessa concluded that it was going to be a long day for her. The sooner she took her niece shopping and got her settled, the sooner she would be rid of her. She sighed. "Aniyah, you have always been difficult."

"I think for myself. No one tells me what to do."

After shopping, Tessa drove Aniyah to a two-story apartment complex nearby the downtown city of Columbia.

Aniyah looked out at the buildings as Tessa parked. Startled, she said, "This is where you and Baron live now. What happened to his house?"

"We still have our home. This is where you're going to rest."

Aniyah voice escalated. "Are you for real? Here?"

"I'm sorry, but there's no way Baron will let me bring you into our home."

"I'm your niece. He can now trust me."

"I'm afraid not."

Aniyah marveled. She heard the nervousness in her aunt's voice. She was flattered that her aunt thought of her as a threat. In the past, she had seduced her aunt's husband, prior to their marriage, in order to manipulate him to get to his client's fortune.

They got out of the vehicle, carrying shopping bags by the handles. Aniyah followed her aunt to the front door. Unlocking it, they entered the one-bedroom apartment.

She proceeded to the middle of the living room, while Tessa, clenching on to her handbag, stayed put near the door.

Aniyah felt her aunt's eyes pierced on her, well informed that she was uncomfortable being alone with her, but her attention was focused on her living arrangements. Next to a small wooden table, she tossed the bags that she held on a futon. Then, she headed to see where she would sleep; leaving her aunt on edge to figure out if she would show any signs of psychotic symptoms.

Inside the bedroom, Aniyah spotted a four-drawer chest and twin-sized bed that was the bottom half of a bunk bed. Second-hand c.r.a.p.

"I hope you like it." Tessa dropped the bags on the linoleum floor.

Aniyah mumbled under her breath, "No bigger than a jail cell."

Returning back into the living room, Aniyah decided not to complain. She was convinced without her aunt rescuing her, she might be sitting on a bench like a homeless person.

Aniyah grinned. "It's good."

"There's food in the refrigerator. I've stocked it with a few things, sodas and sandwich meats. In the cabinets, there're cans of corn, black beans and a five-pound bag of rice."

"Any steaks, lobster tails or shrimp?"

Tessa laughed. "There're frozen foods, and chicken for you to cook. Tonight you can heat a frozen chicken TV dinner."

Aniyah went directly into the kitchen adjacent to the living room. She looked in the freezer to see that few products loaded the freezer, including one iced tray. She slammed the freezer door shut. Then she opened the refrigerator section. Removing a can of orange soda, she snapped it open and took a swallow, quenching her thirst.

Tessa entered. As she watched her niece's every move, she noticed the spandex dress Aniyah wore had risen up her thighs. "I say you should change into something more appropriate."

Aniyah tussled with the dress. "Stop looking at my clothes. It'll fit fine once I lose a few pounds." Aniyah looked around the kitchen, noticing something was missing. "Hold up...no microwave?"

"You can use the stove to heat a TV dinner."

"Whatever." Aniyah rolled her eyes.

"Change your style of dressing. Start off fresh by getting yourself decent work. And, find a good man that you can start a family with," Tessa lectured with an air of sophistication.

Aniyah stared at her aunt as though she were a hated prison guard. She had not thought about a job. She twirled around. Cheerfully, she said, "I can use a money man."

"It's nothing like making your own money."

Aniyah walked past her aunt, stepping back into the living room. Tessa followed behind her while Aniyah searched for any sign of communication technology.

"No telephone in here?"

Tessa shook her index finger at her. "When you get work you can buy one."

"If you want me to get a job, at least get me a cell phone."

"For now, no phone. I'll be coming by to check on you."

Aniyah slouched down on the futon. She shoved her fist into the cushion, feeling the steel frame underneath.

"I hate being broke."

"In due time, you'll find work. Make your own money."

"I have no skills. No one will hire me."

"There has to be something you like to do or you can go to college."

"Aunt Tessa, getting out of jail is not the same as getting out of high school. I didn't just graduate. No college for me."

"You know how to clean."

Aniyah jumped to her feet. Her mind went to the days she was forced to clean the toilet in her jail cells. Enraged, she yelled, "h.e.l.l to the no. I'll die before I scrub another toilet."

"It's an honest living."

"Never!" Aniyah snapped as she sat back down. "I'll find something else to do."

"Start looking for some kind of work."

Aniyah banged her fist on the table. "I need money now."

Tessa eased her way near the door. Digging in her purse, she pulled out a few bills. "This should be enough to get you by."

Aniyah hurried over to her, s.n.a.t.c.hing the money out of her aunt's hand. Before she shoved the bills down in her bra, she counted up to a hundred.

"The rent on this apartment is paid in full for three months. By then you should've found work."

"Give me a break. That's not enough time."

"You must have work by then. Baron won't allow me to give you any more money after that."

"He rules you."

"Nonsense. We agreed on that decision."

"Tell him what you want...you're his wife, Mrs. Tessa Sanchez-Chavis. Stop being too easy."

"I'm loyal to my husband. He's a good man. I won't let you ruin my marriage. Three months it is." Tessa peered at her through hooded eyes.

Aniyah heard the authority in her aunt's voice and said no more. She was not about to let three months turn into get-out-right-now.

"In the drawer, there's a nightgown for you to rest in." Tessa jingled her car keys as she made her way to the door. "I must go. I must prepare dinner for my husband."

"I need to eat, too."

"Heat your dinner. I pray you'll turn your life around. My sister would want that for you. I'll see you in a few days. And for G.o.d's sake, don't go anywhere near Milandra, Noelle or Kenley Houston. Baron and I have agreed not to disturb them about your release. They're in a good place in their lives."

Aniyah chuckled. "The fake sisters are history to me. I'm going to be in a much better place then, them uppity sn.o.bs."

"I have faith that you'll do fine, once you find work." Tessa noticed she still had the apartment key in her hand. "You'll need this." She tossed the key to Aniyah. "Don't lose it."

Following her aunt outside, Aniyah watched as she got into her vehicle. "Weak b.i.t.c.h," she hollered, once Tessa drove away.

Back into the apartment, Aniyah slammed the door behind her. She stood in the middle of the living room, sniffing the stale odor. She screamed, "I'm still in jail. The one time my aunt Tessa could do right by me and she put me in a h.e.l.l hole."

Aniyah went into the bedroom. She bounced on the bed.

"Dead mattress," she fussed. "Aunt Tessa is going home to her fancy bed. I've got to sleep on a board for a mattress. Once again she shouted, "Weak b.i.t.c.h. Get a job, no way. My job will only be to find me a man with money. You and anyone else that gets in my way, will pay for treating me like I'm beneath you."

About the Author.

Christine Young-Robinson was raised in Brooklyn and Queens, New York, but she now resides in her place of birth, Columbia, South Carolina. She is a wife, mother, and grandmother.

No stranger to the literary world, Christine has spent the last few years working with her children's books, Isra the b.u.t.terfly Gets Caught for Show and Tell, Chicken Wing, and young adult ebook, Hip-Hop and Punk Rock. Her short story, "Miss Amy's Last Ride," was featured in the anthology, Proverbs for the People, edited by Tracy Price-Thompson and TaRessa Stovall.

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