Page 104 of Certified To Handle You 2

By the time the doctor said my grandma was dehydrated and needed to rest more, she was half asleep against my shoulder. I drove her home, made sure she took her medicine and put a bottle of water beside her bed before I left.

Now I was parked outside my condo with both hands restin’ in my lap while I stared through the windshield.

My purse was on the passenger seat, my phone had three unread messages and there was a pile of paperwork inside my work bag that I needed to look over before the mornin’. I knew there was laundry inside my condo, food that needed to be cooked and an alarm waitin’ to drag me into another day before my body had recovered from this one.

I didn’t even wanna go upstairs…

That was when the thought hit me that I was tired of bein’ the person everybody came to when they needed somethin’. I loved my family, my businesses and the life I built, but nobody ever seemed to notice how much of me it took to keep everything movin’.

Everybody got to fall apart because they knew I would hold them up. I didn’t know who was supposed to hold me.

I rested my head against the seat and closed my eyes. For one second, I let myself imagine walkin’ into my condo and findin’ somebody there who would take my purse, tell me to sit downand handle the rest without me explainin’ what needed to be done.

That thought brought Renza to my mind before I could stop it.

When we was together, I could come home tired and irritated, and he would know before I said anything. He might crack a joke about the way my face looked, but somewhere between me kickin’ my shoes off and tellin’ him about my day, he would start runnin’ my bath water.

Sometimes he would sit on the edge of the tub and listen while I talked. Other times he would wait until I got out, rub oil into my skin and massage my feet while tellin’ me I did too damn much for people who would figure life out if I stopped fixin’ everything for them.

I used to think he was only sayin’ that because he wanted more of my time. Sittin’ here now, I understood he might’ve been the only person who noticed I was stretchin’ myself too thin.

It had been a couple days since we spent the night together, but we texted every day since then. The messages wasn’t all deep or romantic, but he checked on me, sent me some stupid shit that made me laugh and kept his word when he said he was goin’ to hit me up.

Shit between us still wasn’t where I wanted them to be, but they wasn’t bad either.

I reached for my phone and stared at his name for a few seconds before pressin’ the call button. I almost hung up while it rang because I didn’t l know what the hell I planned on sayin’ if he answered.

Renza picked up before I could change my mind, and loud laughter came through the phone behind him.

“Wussup?” Renza answered, his voice fightin’ through all the noise.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holdin’. “You busy?”

“I’m at the gun shop,” he replied. “These niggas in here talkin’ shit, but I can talk. What’s up?”

Somebody shouted somethin’ in the background, and Renza laughed before tellin’ them to shut the fuck up. Hearin’ him sound like himself gave me a small piece of comfort, even though I still didn’t know how to tell him why I called.

“I just had a long day,” I admitted while rubbin’ my fingers across my forehead.

Renza’s voice changed slightly when he answered. “What happened?”

I started with the funeral home and told him about the woman I prepared this mornin’. Then I told him about the salon, my sister needin’ money and the plumbing problem at one of my properties. Once I started talkin’, everything came out because I didn’t realize how badly I needed somebody to listen without callin’ to ask for somethin’ else.

“My grandma got sick again, so I been at the hospital with her half the day,” I continued. “They said she gon’ be okay, but I just dropped her off and now I’m sittin’ outside my condo because I don’t even feel like goin’ inside.”

Renza stayed quiet for a second before askin’, “You ate today?”

I looked toward the empty cup in my holder. “I had some coffee this mornin’.”

“That ain’t what I asked you, Reni.”

“I grabbed somethin’ from the salon earlier,” I replied, even though half a granola bar barely counted as food.

“What you eat?”

I sighed because he already knew I was avoidin’ the question. “It don’t matter.”

“It matter if I’m askin’,” Renza told me. “You movin’ around takin’ care of everybody, but you ain’t fed yo’self all day?”