Page 56 of K.I.N.: Karma Is Near

Swing by the couch.

Diaper caddy on my coffee table.

Bottle drying rack taking up half my little kitchen counter.

Stroller folded by the front door next to three pairs of my shoes I had been saying I was gonna put away since Tuesday.

My bedroom was the only actual bedroom, so Carter’s crib was in there with me. I wasn’t paying Jersey two-bedroom rent just for a four-month-old to have her own room she wasn’t gonna sleep in anyway.

Outside was my white Toyota Camry.

Paid every month by yours truly.

I wasn’t broke.

But I wasn’t rich either.

There was a difference.

I worked. Xay sent money for Carter. I had some savings. My bills got paid. My daughter had everything she needed and then some.

But if I stopped getting a paycheck?

Shit would get interesting real fucking fast.

I was bougie within reason.

I might have a Marc Jacobs bag sitting on my passenger seat while praying that autopay didn’t pull my electric bill before my direct deposit hit.

Balance.

“Carter, I’m literally making it.”

She kicked both little legs, face scrunched up as she fussed harder.

“Ahh, come on, Mama. Don’t be mean today.”

I tested the milk against my wrist.

Unlike Samantha, I was not breastfeeding.

Absolutely the fuck not.

I pumped in the beginning because I didn’t want my titties hurting and leaking everywhere, but all that baby pulling at my nipples shit?

No.

The only motherfucker I wanted pulling at my nipples was my nigga.

I chuckled to myself.

My nigga.

That was funny considering my nigga was technically my sister’s nigga.

“Hush,” I told myself, grabbing Carter’s bottle.

I walked into the living room and scooped her little ass out the bouncer.