A Deeper Love Inside by Sister Souljah

Author:Sister Souljah
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Atria/Emily Bestler Books
Published: 2013-01-29T06:00:00+00:00

I soaked my sponge mop with hot water and soap, and raced it down each aisle carefully. I walked myself backwards with the mop until I reached the floor door. Seconds later, me and the mop were back in our underground space. It was 6:00 a.m., whew . . .

Chapter 30

It was three o’clock that same day. I waited to approach Mr. Sharp, who was the owner of The Golden Needle, five more stores, and an entire apartment building. When I was buying roses yesterday, I noticed that Mr. Sharp was just arriving to his shop in the afternoon. I could’ve been wrong, but I imagined that since he was big balling, he chose to have a big breakfast with his attractive wife. They slept in a huge comfortable bed with silk sheets and satin pillowcases. They had a huge television and play-fought over the remote. He wins all of the play fights and keeps the TV on sports. She doesn’t like sports but also doesn’t complain. Instead, she reclines and counts and admires all of the jewelry that he bought for her, cause he could do it like that. When she’s not counting jewelry, she’s counting her secret money stacks, cause Momma used to say that a real bitch always has and keeps a secret money pile.

Speaking of Momma, she still hadn’t returned. I pulled down two pieces of her not-so-nice clothes. I would carry them with me over to The Golden Needle as bait for the lady who sits in the window sewing. I didn’t want her to think I was some aggravating beggar hanging around the store, since she had seen me pressing my face in the window just yesterday. If Mr. Sharp wasn’t there, I’d ask the lady to stitch Momma’s jeans and the dress that I just ripped a tear in. I wasn’t worried about Momma getting red that I took her clothes. I planned to buy her plenty of new ones.

Also, our underground apartment doesn’t have a bathtub. Momma used to soak in her pretty, marble, Long Island tub, with candles and perfumed water. I promised myself I would take Momma to a nice hotel once a month. We would go shopping for pretty things until our feet got tired. Then we would head back to our hotel with our purchases. I would run warm water in the clean, deep tub, dash in a few drops of Momma’s favorite scent and maybe even some rose petals. Momma would be so relaxed and happy. She would love me.

I looked back at the roses as I climbed the first cement step to exit the underground. They were young and gorgeous. The petals were smooth and tight. They had not even blossomed yet.

“Momma will be back before they blossom,” I told myself, then left out.

• • •

“Un momento!” The Spanish-speaking lady leaped up from her chair where she had been sewing when I arrived.

“Espera aqui!” she said and pushed passed me and through the shop door. Standing alone in The Golden Needle shop, I turned and watched her sprinting down the block in her skips.

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