All That Matters

She stood there, a delicate tremor running through her, her eyes clouding as she clutched the court document in her quivering hand. It felt like a rebirth, a weight lifting from her soul.

It was official: she was divorced. The papers had severed the legal ties to him, and she was free to reclaim the name her father had bestowed upon her at birth. Joey’s presence or influence no longer haunted her, and she yearned never to speak to him again. Yet, she couldn’t escape the biological bond they’d created that bound her to him.

Leaning against her kitchen counter, the sizzle of butter in the skillet seemed distant, drowned out by her racing thoughts and the whirlwind of emotions churning in her gut. Louisiana’s absurd divorce laws and Joey’s relentless pursuit had stretched this ordeal over two grueling years, and the finality of it now weighed upon her. The burden had been lifted, and she could breathe again.

Her mind flickered back to the good times she and Joey had shared, even though they were buried beneath layers of pain and argument scars. Those scars ran deep, just like the unconditional love she held for their daughter, Dylan, who was the reason she couldn’t wholly regret the years of her early adulthood she had wasted as his wife.

The sound of childlike chuckles and toddler tunes brought her back down to their house, a piece of the world that only belonged to the two of them.

“Dylan! I know you’re not on that iPad!” Mila slid the papers back into the manila folder before turning to the stove to check on the pancakes. She flipped them, wincing a little at the burned marks against the golden brownness, but figured a little darkness wouldn’t hurt anybody.

“I’m not, Mommy!” She ran into the living area that was conjoined with the kitchen, her little tennis shoes twinkling with each step. After taking the pancakes off of the heat, Mila went around to help Dylan into one of the tall chairs so she could continue to get her ready for her day. Untying her rainbow satin headscarf, Mila touched up Dylan’s curly baby hairs and clipped khaki hair bows to her ponytails.

“What do you want on your pancakes?” She asked, giving her the option since she’d burned her breakfast a little bit.

“Ooh, strawberries, chocolate, and...” Dylan put her finger on her chin with a smile, excited since this wasn’t a daily occurrence, “pineapples.”

“What?” Mila chuckled, her face construed in disgust as she plated the cooled pancakes. She drizzled chocolate syrup over the pancakes and used chopped strawberries to cover up the dark marks. She put the pineapples on the side so they wouldn’t make the pancakes soggy.

“Chocolate-pineapple-strawberry pancakes it is.” Mila put the plate in front of Dylan who wore a smile like Mila’s but it was hard to tell since she didn’t do it often.

The annoying ringtone of Dylan’s iPad went off, leading Mila to see if it was who she believed it to be. Her curiosity faded as she picked up the tablet with a 3D butterfly case, seeing it was Dylan’s father, not who she was expecting. She swiped her finger across the screen to prevent it from hanging up.

“One second.” Mila spoke as soon as the line connected, hurriedly getting the thing to Dylan so she could talk to Joey. Or ‘Daddy’ how he’d saved himself in there when he’d bought it as Dylan’s last year’s Christmas gift. A way for him and Mila to avoid the awkwardness they were faced with right now.

He was lucky that Mila didn’t purchase it, since Dylan wouldn’t be as accessible to him if she did. She felt like she had the right to be selfish with her daughter since she was Dylan’s sole caretaker from day one. Joey couldn’t pretend to be an active father now that they were four hundred miles away in Atlanta. He was just an occasional FaceTime and materialistic gift giver that she’d grown to know him as, just unfortunately after they’d created a life together.

“Hi, Daddy!” Dylan shrieked, her baby teeth on full display.

While Dylan chatted with her father, Mila made sure everything was in her Princess Tiana backpack and packed her matching lunch box. Her own phone began to ring, the caller being one of the people she anticipated in the first place.

“Good morning! It’s picture day!” Yasmine said rapidly as she drove recklessly.

“I didn’t forget.” Mila laughed but appreciated Yasmine’s reminder since she did have the tendency to forget about things like this.

“Whew, okay. H-”

“Where’s Dyl, Mommy?” Yasmine’s daughter Halle, who was the same age as Dylan, asked in her cute and squeaky voice.

“She’s on the phone with her dad right now. We’ll see you guys at school.” Mila quickly hung up, wanting Yasmine to focus on making it to Angelou Institute rather than talking to her about nonsense.

“Dyl, we have to go.” Mila said as she stepped in front of a large mirror, running her hands over her hair that was pulled back into her everyday ponytail. She kept her hair dyed a black cherry red that complemented her rouge undertones in the best way, but she couldn’t help but be sucked back into a memory despite the change.

Looking at her reflection, she liked what she saw. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt pretty.

She was a conventionally attractive woman. Her skin, a rich and deep sepia with a natural glow like she was her own brand of expensive bronze. Slanted eyes with thick eyebrows and lips, accompanied by a cute and wide Black girl button nose.

Her appearance was usually sweats–leggings if it was a good day–a bun in her hair, and a tee that was always covered in something that her daughter had eaten that day. But tonight, she’d brushed her hair out of its knot and traded the lounge clothes for jeans she hadn’t jumped into in months and a black Boyz N The Hood graphic tee.

After giving her limited edition look a last glance, she walked to the living room where her husband and baby girl sat.

“You going out?” Her husband asked, his eyebrows meeting in the middle of his forehead as he eyed her appearance.

“Yes, Morgan’s in the city.” She said, sitting beside him on the soft and gray sofa.

“When were you going to tell me that? What if I had something to do?”

“I did tell you, Joey. This morning, actually. You’re always out, working or with your friends. So I didn’t think it would be a problem if I went out this one time while my friend’s in town.”

“Alright, Mila.” Joey waved her off, turning his attention back to the large television that hung on the wall. “When are you going to get ready then? And where did you say you’re going again? What time are you coming back?”

“I am ready.” She turned her face down. “Morgan is picking me up at seven, we’re going to grab something to eat, then catch a movie at nine. I should be back before twelve.”

Mila scooted off of the couch and onto the rug as Dylan waddled to her. They shared a smile, so happy to see each other even though they hardly ever spent time apart.

“You’re going to have Dylan out that late so that you can kick it?”

“I’m not taking Dylan. She’s staying with you.” Mila didn’t let her growing frustration show as she smiled at her baby. She was having a good day and refused to let him ruin it like always.

“Right because you wanna run the streets with your dumb ass friends. You’re a wife, Mila. Not some hoe on the street.” She could feel his gaze burning into the side of her face as she swallowed back tears.

She needed this. She needed to be somewhere that wasn’t the prison that the four walls of this house. She needed to communicate and be around someone who wasn’t only a year old. She didn’t understand why that was so hard for Joey to grasp, but disagreeing with her and disapproving of her actions was all he seemed to do lately.

“Don’t forget your little camera and tell them how you left your family to go fuck around.” Joey’s voice reeked of sarcasm and bitterness as he scooped up Dylan and walked away with her whining and reaching her arms out for Mila. Her own thoughts were scarce as Joey’s comments and Dylan’s cries echoed in her mind.

Wiping the wetness from her eyes, Mila reached for her phone to text Morgan that she’d have to catch her next time.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

“Yes, Dylan?”

“Daddy said bye.” Her innocence was marinated in her voice as she looked at Mila, drinking apple juice from her cup.

“Tell him bye then, baby.” Mila paid it little attention as she grabbed Dylan’s cocoa brown cardigan that matched her outfit and began to pull her arms through it.

“Bye Mila.” She heard his voice that was deeply in tune with his roots as a New Orleanian. His voice reminded her of the place she knew as home for the majority of her life, the accent never straying from her family no matter how much they elevated in society.

Her eyes moved on their own to see him, his ruggedly handsome face was all too familiar to her, Dylan being his twin that she had to face every day. But he didn’t appeal to her anymore. Nothing about Joey could ever make her want to be with him again.

She refused to speak to him, to play his little mind games as he had a conniving smile on his big lips. She pressed the glowing red button and ended the call, only wishing it was that easy to rid them of his existence.

Mila swiftly put on her jean jacket, covering her cobalt blue shirt with A Bite of Blue’s logo on it. Being the manager of the grand yet homey establishment was something her mother would probably disown her for if she hadn’t already. The Tate family—her mother’s side—prided themselves on following their legacy and working for no one but them, but Mila always knew she didn’t want those things.

Yes, they all were close and well connected, and of course they were wealthy and successful, but Mila’s whole perspective on life changed once she’d had Dylan and spent so much time alone. The things her mother instilled in her faded and faded every time she felt the urge to leave Joey and her mother encouraged her to stay.

It’s not a good lookshe’d always say. It was bad enough that Mila decided to take a gap year, and her getting pregnant as well was just the cherry on top. But Angelle had devised a plan to fix things.

And Mila became Mrs. Joseph Broussard at only eighteen years old and four months pregnant.

She lugged all of her and Dylan’s things down to her car with ease. She’d been through worse, having to carry diaper bags, pumping equipment, and a chubby baby in a car seat all at once during those rough mornings. So, Dylan’s light, kindergarten homework-filled backpack didn’t bother her at all.

“I got it, Mommy.” Dylan said, interrupting Mila from strapping her in her booster seat.

“Okay.” Mila replied with a smile, watching her little sassy self struggle to fasten the seat belt with her small hands before eventually succeeding.

Mila hopped into the driver’s seat, anxiously driving to the private school that Dylan thankfully attended. Being that Mila had been Dylan’s sole caretaker for her entire life, it was hard for her to find people to trust with her, especially this being her first time going to big girl school as she insisted they call it.

Her piece of mind came from her boss, who became more than that the more time they knew each other. Saija was absolutely heaven sent. Mila believed she was her guardian angel. The big sister she’d never had.

“How are you going to smile for your picture, Dyl?” Mila asked as they walked through the busy hallway, still smearing Vaseline on her lips and face. Dylan beamed, showing all of her teeth as she smiled and walked hand in hand with her mom.

“Okay, pretty girl!” Mila kneeled to Dylan’s level, kissing her cheek. “I love you. Have a great day.”

“Bye Mommy!” She waved as she clutched her backpack straps, treading towards her teacher. Mila stood up, feeling like her heart had walked into the Lilo and Stitch-themed classroom. It was only Dylan’s second week, and Mila was so happy that she was loving it. She just wondered when the crying would stop when she dropped her off every morning.

Mila parked her Mini Cooper in her designated parking spot before stepping out of it, and making her way into the building that resided on the corner of Atlanta’s engrossed university center.

She’d spotted the lights already on, and figured Saija had come in early to bake her heart out which was nothing surprising. Mila rearranged the pumpkins that guarded the door, ranging in color from blue to orange to white. She twisted the door knob, only to be met with a hard body once she opened the door.

Looking up, she was met with a face that was bronzed by the early morning sun and wind.

“I’m sorry about that. Excuse me, love.” His silken voice captivated her more, making her look above the groomed goatee that gave him an even more manly aura, and up at his entire face. She only had a few seconds to gawk at this man who seemed oddly familiar to her.

“You’re going in?” He asked while meeting her eyes and subtly taking his turn to soak in her beauty.

“Yes.” Mila smiled politely as he stepped to the side and opened the door wider for her to go inside. She thanked the smooth and suave stranger before he disappeared into the rising sunlight.

“Oh! Good morning Mr. Meechie.” She was slightly startled by the giant that was her boss’ husband.

“Come on, Mila. What did I tell you about that mister shit?” He leaned against the refrigerated glass displays while shaking his head with his arms folded.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it. My mama burned the manners into me.”

“I know what that’s like, I got you.” He related being that he grew up in a family with the same background and values. “I’m gonna get out your space and let you do you.”

A small smile tugged at her lips, hearing the familiarity of home in his voice and vernacular. “Okay, have a good one.” Mila followed behind him to the main door, waving as he climbed into his candy red Lamborghini.

Mila flipped the closed sign to open and began to set upA Bite of Blue for another ordinary day.