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“With a man.”

“Oh!” I had her attention now.

I sighed and lay back against the lounge chair. “I know this is going to be a silly question, but I’m asking anyway… You ever like any of them?”

“La’Belle…”

“Mama, just answer the question. Please.”

I heard her mute the TV in the background. “Your sperm donor ruined the idea of love for me,” she said. “After him, I couldn’t do that again. Didn’t want to. So, I focused on making sure you had a better life than what he left for us.”

My mother never talked about my father. She treated him as a door she’d locked and swallowed the key to.

“But did you like them?” I pressed. “Howard? Gerald? Walter?”

“Howard was a sweet man until he wasn’t.” She paused. “Gerald was tolerable. Walter is…fine.”

“Fine” was as close to a yes as I’d get. “Just fine?”

“I’m not unhappy, if that’s what you’re getting at. I’m comfortable, will always be comfortable, and I’ve taught you how to do the same.”

I pulled at the brim of my sun hat as I mulled over her words. Mama had been in survival mode after my father left to start a whole new life with another woman. She was twenty-one with a newborn, and was so committed to erasing him that she changed my last name back to hers and got rid of every picture. I could pass that man on the street and I wouldn’t even know.

“Why are you asking me this?” she asked.

“Just curious.”

“Mmhm. What’s his name?”

“Nobody.”

“What does he do?”

“Bye, Mama.”

“Well, it must be serious if you’re calling me about it,” she laughed. “Just make sure the money is worth whatever you’re feeling. Emotions are fleeting, but you can build with money.”

“Love you, Regina,” I said.

“Love you too, little girl.”

I hung up and stared at the ocean. Me and my mother’s relationship had never been cut and dry. Some days she was my biggest supporter. On others, it felt like she was hating, mad that I chose to play the game in a way that kept my independence. I invested what I got and let the money grow, so I didn’t have to keep hopping from man to man. Marriage was a ball and chain, and after everything I watched her go through, it held zero appeal.

Men were disposable. Tools used to get what I wanted. That’s what she taught me, and I’d never once questioned the formula until now.

I shook it off and snapped a picture of the beach from the deck and sent it to Siani.

She FaceTimed me two minutes later.

“Bitch. Where the fuck are you?” she yelled into the camera.

“Hello to you too, Siani.”

“Girl, fuck you,” she cackled. “You rage baiting me with a damn picture of the beach and expect me to be calm. Now spill, where are you?”

“The Bahamas.”

“With…”