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“Almost?”

“Ma.”

“I’m asking.”

“And I’m answering.”

I headed back to my bedroom.

“You got bottles in the refrigerator!” I called out. “Diapers are in the basket by the couch. She probably gonna nap soon.”

“I know how to take care of a baby, Avery.”

“Okay, well, last time you called me four times.”

“Because she was crying.”

“Babies do that.”

“And I wanted her mother.”

I laughed as I went back into the bathroom.

I finished my eyebrow.

From the living room, I heard my mother talking to Carter.

“Your mommy gets on my nerves.”

“Don’t talk about me to my child!”

That was my mother.

Five minutes later, I came back out with my bag over my shoulder, Toyota keys in my hand and my little lunch bag because I was trying to stop spending twenty dollars every fucking day ordering food.

Amanda looked me up and down.

Then, right on schedule⁠—

“You hear from her father?”

There it was.

I grabbed my jacket from the hook beside the door.

“No.”

Amanda sucked her teeth.

“Avery.”

“What?”

“I don’t like that.”

“I know.”

“That man got a whole baby out here and don’t even come see her?”