The Kids Are Turning Thirty

Chapter 2

“Dinner? Dinner? I would rather crawl out my skin, roll in pepper, then burst into the greatest fire in—” Hera slammed her cellphone on the stained-glass mosaic vanity table.

“Miss Hera, should... continue?” Gina shook a bottle of homemade hair moisturizer and a nylon and boar bristle hairbrush.

“I don’t know why you stopped,” she said to Gina’s confused reflection, wiping splatters of grease off the mirror. “I mixed too much tea tree.”

“Miss Hera, you phone again.”

“Hello... The hell. You’re stalking me from different numbers... I said no... How many times must I say I hate you, your bastard child, your w***e and... Leave me alone. You made your choice. You broke my—you hurt me.”

Gina squeezed the nylon and boar bristle hairbrush as another cellphone crashed against the iridescent blue with shades of green silk walls.

“We’re not talking about him.” Hera pointed a silver rat tail comb at Gina’s concerned expression. “We hate him.”

“You father call again.”

“Why did my mother decide to keep me? Why?”

“He want Catherine move in. Or else?” Gina completed her tenth stroke on Hera’s hair.

“I’ll burn down this house.”

“He say he move her himself and slap you.”

“He’ll move her himself?” An ear-splitting cackle. “When"s the last time he purchased his own underwear? Psychopathic predator. s*x fiend. We’re here working, busting our a*s while he’s off somewhere j*********f on t**s and—” She spun in her royal blue cushioned seat, embroidered with gold peacock feathers. “I’ve changed my mind. She may move in. I’ll even help her.”

“Miss Hera, no.” Gina turned her face from the mirror. “Please.”

“I’m in no mood for your dramatics. You’ll get me fresh graveyard dirt, or I’ll grab some off your coffin.”

“I tell you. Stop with this dark thing. And don’t play with you father. Listen, Miss Hera. Children must listen.”

“I’ll need her hair, fingernails, blood, the usual.”

“What you want me do? Beg.” She knelt on the soft carpet.

“I literally plunged into my savings last week and paid ten staff. Ten. Who fixed the plumbing and bought a new stove?”

“I know.”

“You also know he purchased a twenty-thousand dollar necklace for whom? Me, you or his bucktooth w***e?”

“He confuse man. He old. They get like that.”

“You would wash your soul in his piss.”

“Now be nice, Miss Hera. I try helping you. I don’t want what happen Mr. Sandy happen... you too.”

Hera motioned for Gina to resume brushing. "My father pulled out Melvin’s heart and had that man’s mother clean the mess. A formidable enemy, yeah right. They talk an excellent game, but their mouth don’t match the size of their balls.”

The brush sailed smoothly down Hera’s back. “You father always say even lion run when lightning falls.”

“He also says, he’ll die by the sword he lives by. Hell, so will I. I won’t just sit back and allow him to destroy everything. I’m practically shinning his Midas touch with my soul.”

“Hera!” Tommy barged through the double wood-glass doors. “We have...” He caught his breath.

“Tommy, do I enter your bedroom without knocking?”

“Oh, my bad. Yeah, like I was saying, um—”

“You did not answer my question.”

Tommy glanced at Gina, who lowered her head. He scratched his head, chewing on his lower lip. “Um, uh...”

“Would you behave like this with my father?”

“No! I would never do that.” Tommy shuffled from one foot to the other while attempting to hold her steely stare.

“Interesting. I need you to step out and start over.”

Knock, knock

“Who is it?”

“Tommy.”

“Come in.” Hera unlocked her tablet. “What I told you about bringing me bad news? Speak.”

“We got three broken freezers. Why? Who knows? The men bathroom’s shot. What else? Oh, something’s stuck in a few pipes.” He passed a hand over his sweaty nose and philtrum. “Geez, it’s like we’re cursed.”

Hera rolled her eyes at Gina’s loud throat clearing. “I’ll dive into the little we made last night.” Tommy and Gina jumped back as Hera’s fist rocked the vanity table. “I’m on my way. What’s with that face?”

“Mike found a lawyer.”

“Well?”

“We searched, um, we can’t find any witness. There’s no email chain, text, video or audio.”

“What would my father say?”

Tommy tugged at his damp, gray collar, eyes darting around the cold, lavender-scented room. “Lies. All lies!”

“What would my father do?”

“He, sorry, you’re gonna pop up at his daughter’s school and his parents retirement home.” Tommy waved. “Later.”

“Good luck, Tommy.” Gina waved at his speeding back.

“Can I go one day without someone or something pissing me off?” She massaged her temples as a headache swiftly approached.

“No.”

“I’m sick of you. Go, check the package.”

Gina opened a brown leather hat box. “You try first or me?” She laughed, sinking her fingers in fur felt adorned with pearls.

*****

Private side entrance of Champ de Mars restaurant. Prudence skipped towards her friends and brother. “Hello, sweetie!” She hugged and kissed everyone. “Thanks for coming.” She hugged them again. “Come, come in. I wanna show you my surprise.”

Red velvet cupcakes surrounded a light pink crystal vase filled with red, yellow, blue, and nearly black roses. A tall, glittery pink birthday card read: We love you, Prue! Happy Birthday! Your friends at Champ de Mars. Everyone oohed and aahed.

“Stop, don’t make me cry. I’m saving my tears for our actual thirtieth this weekend. Anyhoo, please sit. This is Lola. My Intern. Isn’t she sweet in those dad jeans?” Prudence fussed with Lola’s colorful butterfly hair clips. “She’s only nineteen. Lola moved here from Virginia last summer. She’s sharing an apartment with, like, ten roommates. I would literally faint. Wake up and faint again. Lola goes to F.I.T. She’s following me around for a school project or whatever. Who knows? I’m doing Jamie a favor.” She clapped. “Guys, I’m like really excited. Yes, she’s not officially my intern, but my self-esteem feels good saying it.” She swayed her gold bejeweled arms. “Lola, did you post I got an intern? Thanks, sweetie. Lola is a-ma-zing. How did I survive without an intern?

“Anyhoo, you guys met Lola. Lola, now meet my people. First, this my big bro by a few minutes. Preston. He’s an attorney, sweetie, at Manhattan Family Court. Major, right? He’s also the smile of my heart and my annoying, really annoying conscience. These two ladies are Music and Harmony. Music is a freelance photographer. Harmony is a school social worker. My surprise lunch guests are in modeling and business. My pre-birthday lunch isn’t usually this small but, we all know, I may get dragged away in handcuffs at any moment. Oh, the embarrassment. The publicity. Anyhoo, you’re in great company, sweetie. Everyone here is doing so good and I, well, I’m still fabulous... despite everything.”

“Bless your heart, Lola.” Harmony laughed, swatting Prudence’s cashmere clad shoulder with a white linen napkin. “You got a handful with our Prue. She’s crazier than a mouse playing footsie with a cat.”

“Lo, how you swing?” Music reached for Lola’s folded hands across the smooth, white tablecloth. “Maybe I could show you around my N.Y.C?”

Prudence playfully blocked Music’s curious hands with a silver fork. “Sadly, she’s plain yogurt. For now, at least.” She winked at Lola. “Lola’s boyfriend just dumped her. Sad, right? They were high school sweethearts, poor thing. They moved up here, and he started cheating all over town.”

“Prue, stop,” Preston said. “Mindfulness. Professionalism.”

“She’s clearly feeling awkward,” Harmony added, placing a napkin on her lap.

“Yeah, rain judgment on me. But no one said nothing to Music.”

“Hey, don’t drag me in your hot mess.” Music loudly chewed on a warm dinner roll. “Lola, Lolu, whatever your name is. This a quick yes or no city. Ain’t nobody got time for being shy.” She grabbed another roll. “Hold up, who’s spotting me for lunch?”

Harmony giggled at Lola’s raised eyebrows. “Welcome to our circus, Sugar plum.”

“Please, allow me.” Preston poured water into Lola’s glass. “Prue stated you’re attending F.I.T, correct? What’s your major?”

“She wants to do something in the business side of fashion. We’re still figuring it out.” Prudence slid her empty glass to him. She stared at Lola. “My girl is surviving on sunflower seeds and dollar store tampons.”

“Oh, my stars.” Harmony chuckled, covering her mouth. “My husband and I are barely surviving on a combined income, let alone a college student. I know folks who can’t purchase proper groceries for their family; and they’re making over fifty-thousand a year.” She raised her hand. “Hi! I’m folks.”

“Harmony and I mentor five teenagers,” Preston said. “They’re praying for breakthroughs in entertainment, fashion, sports, which is all great. I appreciate their hard-work, dedication, but I will always stress a plan B to Z. What else can I do besides sing and play basketball? What are my other skills? Can my skills bring financial stability?”

“Yup, I feel some hate. You hella mad cause nobody wanna be doctors and lawyers. You mad.” Music stuck out her tongue.

Prudence slapped Music’s hand off a cupcake.

Preston grinned, shaking his head. “I’m not hating per se. I refuse to believe our youth would prefer a basketball court over a court room. No. I will not give up.” He pumped his fist.

“I’m working with three students,” Harmony said. “The acting trio, I call them. They’ve got straight A’s, perfect attendance, respectful, and overall good kids, though sheltered. Gullible. When it comes to common sense, uh, even the longest rope has an end, bless their hearts.” She touched her balmy neck. “But I can’t throw too many stones. I was them in high school. Hey, watch it.” She wagged her index finger as her friends giggled and mumbled.

Music threw a piece of bread at Harmony.

“My acting trio has their eyes on Hollywood,” she continued. “Hollywood. Hollywood! Way across the United States. Far from Brooklyn. They have no proper plan and about less than a thousand dollars between them. Their families are barely surviving like me. I gotta tell you; foolishness opens the door for sadness.”

Preston forwarded an email to a colleague and set his business cellphone on vibrate. “Everything, good or bad, comes with a price.”

“A deer inviting a pack of hungry wolves for dinner,” Harmony said. “It’s dangerous in this city and worse in Hollywood. Lola, Sugar plum, I don’t know your story. I hope you have people praying for you. I’m not sure if Prue told you about our church.”

“Here we go again.” Music wiped breadcrumbs off her lips. “Harmony, trick, I’m gonna need you to get in your thick skull... look at me, not everyone who’s looking for a come up will end up doing p**n or killed. Most people do okay. Stop scaring people. With your scary, paranoid ass.”

“I’m doing my job as a counselor and a mother to present both sides. These kids need to know what’s out there. Lola needs to know what’s out here.”

Music disturbed the neatly arranged silver utensils. “You don’t present both sides. Or Preston. How y’all think you showing them both sides when you focus more on the scary stuff? If those kids wanna move with no money, no underwear, hey, let them. They may make it or overdose. Who knows? s**t happens.”

“Does it have to?” Harmony inhaled a half-glass of water. “Why should I touch a stove to see if it’s hot when I could clearly see and hear you screaming?”

“Maybe you just wanna feel it for yourself. Why not?” Music asked the table. Only Prudence nodded in agreement. “I don’t give a damn. I’m gonna live my life. Lola, trick, listen up. You may end up doing this.” She smirked at Harmony’s deep sigh. “My last living situation was with this old dude. Guess where? The Upper East Side. The Upper East Side, trick. No bills, no rent, nothing.”

“What’s the catch, my friend?” Preston lightly buttered a roll and offered it to Prudence. She pointed at her waist.

“He wanted me to walk around butt-a*s naked.” l*****g her lips, Music’s eyes and nose followed a floating tray of sizzling salmon, lamb and roasted chicken.

Harmony gasped, grabbing her heart. She apologized to Lola, who smiled and added extra butter on her roll.

“Why y’all looking at me like that? I was livin’ good and eating better. Trick, I felt free, literally free, to follow my dreams.”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing. This exactly what I warn my students about,” Harmony said. “Are you okay?”

Music enjoyed Harmony’s shocked expressions. “Hell, yeah. I’d still be butt-a*s n***d if he didn’t die on me.”

“He died!”

“Why y’all looking at me? I didn’t kill him. The cops cleared me.”

“The police?” Harmony panted, looking around the loud, busy room.

“What happened next?” Prudence grinned at Lola’s wide, fascinated eyes.

“Some dude popped up claiming he a long-lost son. I saw a lot of s**t go down in that penthouse, but I mind my business and he let me stick around. That guy milked every penny out the house.”

Preston washed down three soft rolls with a glass of water. “The catch?”

“Look here Lola, Lolu, whatever your name is... sometimes life makes you cross your own boundaries.”

“I’m scared.” Harmony looked at everyone’s curious, eager faces and covered her eyes.

Music rubbed her hands as Harmony hummed. “I could crash rent-free and food provided if... I let him eat kale and fruit off my pussy.”

A waiter disrupted the uneasy silence as he refreshed crystal water pitchers and bread baskets.

Harmony wrapped an arm behind Music’s chair. “It’s tough out here for you. I understand. It’s tough for all of us. I’m sure you believed there were no other choices, but why didn’t you ask for help? We’re always helping you financially. What happened?”

“Nothing happened. You act like I was prostituting myself. We didn’t have sex.”

“Where was Maria?”

“What you mean? She ain’t my keeper.”

“You’re upset.” She shifted around in her seat.

“Yeah, you kinda pissing me off lately. This thing happened years ago. You just got pregnant. Preston was laid off. Some people was movin’ funny. So-called friends.” She rolled her eyes at Prudence, who read a text message. “I wasn’t hurting nobody. And don’t Prue only date rich men?”

“Excuse me?” Prudence stopped texting and placed her phone on the table. “I don’t only date rich men.”

“Okay, you date rich and f**k poor.” Music reached for warm bread. “Trick, please. You tryin’ be cute for your fake intern.”

“I’m friends with the owner here. Security is not far.”

“Calm down. I’m just joking. Hey, don’t Prue joke about dating rich men?”

Preston poured more water in his glass. Harmony showed Lola recent pictures of her children at the zoo.

“Where’s our waiter?” Prudence looked around the packed restaurant. “You guys will love me more. I made a special menu for us. Yes brother, it’s prix fixe.”

“Your triflin’ a*s. Keep ignoring me, trick.” Flakes and seeds spilled from Music’s mouth.

“I know what your end game is, but you will not ruin another pre-birthday lunch.”

“We was good. You brought me here because of your stank attitude.”

“No, sweetie, you brought yourself here.”

“Who you talkin’ to?” Music slammed a palm on the table, knocking over five red velvet cupcakes. “I’m not Bambi, trick. Who you talkin’ to?”

“Sweetie, how else can I speak with you? You’re not normal. Poor thing.”

“Trick, trick... you playin’ in my face...” Music reached for a full glass of water.

Preston grabbed Music’s arm and motioned for Prudence to sit. “Stop. We’re not engaging in foolishness today.”

“He’s right,” Harmony said. “People are staring at us like ten clowns looking for the ninth clown but keep finding ten.”

––––––––

“Preston will kill us. He doesn’t like speaking about their situation.” Harmony cast her big, cornflower blue eyes over her shoulder. Preston and two colleagues spoke with the Mayor’s wife about homeless youth and foster care. “Gossipy mouths keeps the bread from rising.”

“It’s not gossip when you’re helping,” Prudence said. “Pandora is playing with fire. We agreed, right?”

“Yes, but...” Closing her eyes, she embraced the seafood, cigar, and floral infused cold air.

Music pulled out a digital single-lens reflex camera from her withered messenger bag. “Pandy needs therapy. Her brain ain’t clean.”

Harmony fidgeted in her seat. “Pandora has mental health... concerns and...” She spun her gold wedding ring.

“And what? I’m sorry if... actually, no. I’m not sorry. I planned to take my brother to Saint-Tropez or Monaco for our thirtieth. He loves it there. But can we go? No. He doesn’t wanna be away from Pandy, and she doesn’t wanna go. I was literally begging. She complains about her weight, losing her hair, bad skin, alleged medical issues and anything else she could give.”

Music snapped pictures of the red velvet cupcakes and colorful floral arrangement.

“My brother’s freaking miserable. He—” Prudence waved back at a brunette in a pink velvet tuxedo and her ten-person entourage. “... we’ll do lunch. You look fabulous, sweetie. Ciao.” A high-powered music executive welcomed the brunette as Prudence said, “She really needs a break between lifts and injections. Her face looks poorly disorganized.

“Anyhoo, my brother doesn’t wanna leave that... emotional vampire. Come on, like, just because you hate yourself doesn’t mean you’ve gotta take it out on the world, or on someone who actually loves you. All of you.” She checked on her new silky, fine eyelashes in a gold compact mirror. “Pandy should be embarrassed standing next to my gorgeous brother. Freaking toad. The mirror doesn’t lie, sweetie.”

“Yas, trick! You better plant that word. Let it grow roots.”

“You’re not helping.” Harmony tapped Music’s arm. “Lola doesn’t need to be around all this negativity. I’m sorry, Lola. Ladies, we should change the subject.”

“Trick, please. We all agree this girl needs help. I rarely agree with Prue.” She shot pictures of Lola’s bread-filled cheeks.

“It’s not the right time or place.”

“According to who? You?” She zoomed on Harmony’s chewed fingernails. “When’s it ever the right time and place?”

Harmony turned her attention to their waiter. “Sorry. More pomegranate juice, please. Thanks.” She gave him her empty glass.

Three diners kissed, hugged, and posed for selfies with Prudence.

“It’s complicated,” Harmony continued as Prudence sat. “Their relationship... there’s a lot below the surface. I’ve sat with them together and separately. It’s very complicated.”

“Why?” Prudence said.

“Exactly. They not married. There’s no children or property. What complication?” Music sucked her teeth. “Trick, get outta here. You’d light me up if I came to you with that bullshit.”

––––––––

Goosebumps flooded Preston’s arms as everyone silently picked at their salad and averted eye contact. He interrogated their awkwardness. No response. Preston placed a napkin on his lap, rolled up his sleeves and poured an oily dressing over his watercress salad with avocado and pineapples.

Music munched on a baby carrot as he finished his salad. “I heard Pandy wants you to, uh, f**k other girls.”

Prudence screeched, while Harmony raised her head and hands at the ceiling. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Okay, first of all, what we not gonna do is act like we wasn’t talkin’ about him.”

“I don’t care. You crawled way too far out your cupboard.”

“He’s your brother. Talk to him. I didn’t jump the turnstile to come here and be fake like your fake-ass.”

“You’re disgusting. I did nothing to you. You’ve been coming for me all day.”

“You been coming for me since we met.”

“Can you lower your voice? We’re in public.”

Music’s fork crashed on the edge of her plate. “So what? I’ll punch you dead in the face. In public.”

“Please do. You have the light, sweetie.” Prudence gestured at the chandelier. Golden yellow crystals escaped the plush burgundy ceiling, formed three overlapping circles, and set the table in a heavenly glow. “And the floor. We love your one-clown circus.”

“Keep playin’ in my face, trick.”

Harmony laid a hand on Music’s shoulder. “Sugar plum.”

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?” Prudence ran her fingers through Preston’s low fade golden brown curls. “Music is horrible.”

“Prue, leave her alone. You have no one to blame but... your lack of discretion, self-control and respect for people’s privacy.”

“You better tell her, Pres.” Music lifted her hand for a high-five. “Yeah, buddy!”

“No, buddy.” Harmony forced Music’s hand down.

“Guys, listen. I’m not planning or entertaining the thought of cheating. My sister’s selective hearing is—”

“Sweetie, my selective hearing equals your selective taste when it comes to choosing girls. You could never see when a relationship isn’t working. Everyone agrees.”

“Who is everyone?”

“People. The people. Everyone. This is New York City. People talk.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “What is your response?”

“Excuse me?”

“What is your response to the people?” He sneezed as a third man, in a navy-blue business suit, lighted a cigar.

“I’m your sister. I love you.” Prudence gathered her cellphone and suede purse. “I will not be attacked.” She stood. “I’m done. I’m leaving.”

“Where she going? Who paying for lunch?” Music said.

“Prue, please sit down.” Harmony reached for her hand. “Guys, let’s drop it. We’re having a nice day, in a nice restaurant.”

“You need to grow up.” He tugged on his rolled sleeves. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m ridiculous?” Prudence avoided his intense stare. “Really? You’re fighting for a girl who can’t find one thing to love about herself. How many mirrors did she break last week?”

“Harmony, you see. She speaks like this at home. Loud enough for Pandora to hear.”

“Did you tell Harmony that thief stole mom’s necklace?”

“May you please stop? I’m sure you lost it and forgot.”

“Yeah, I would lose real diamonds. Are you kidding me? That necklace got me over eight hundred thousand likes and a brand deal. We need to turn our cameras back on.”

“Why would she steal from us? We give her everything.”

“She would steal from us because your girl nicely fits in our family’s low, very low standards.”

“Yas, trick! Yas.” Music snapped her fingers. “We here for the shits, Lola.”

Two servers cleared their table, ears lapping up the drama.

“Harmony, are you going to defend me?” Prudence sat, crossing her arms. “You had a lot to say on the phone.”

“I, um, uh...” Harmony scratched her head. She pushed her blond curls behind her shoulders. “I... Preston already knows how I feel. Maybe we should change the subject. People are looking.”

“Of course. Why did I think you’ll finally choose my side?”

“Why must there be a side? You know I can’t change your brother’s point of view whether I kick off my shoes to cry or dance.”

“You’re so good at changing when or how you fit in the conversation.”

“Prue, that’s not fair.”

“I’m done.” Prudence tapped Lola’s arm. “We’re leaving. Forever.”

“Damn, can she finish her celery?” Music said. “Hey, does your fake intern even talk?”

Preston moved his chair closer to his sister. “Pandora and I are in a good place.” He took her suede purse off her lap and hung it on the chair. “We’re getting married next year and starting a family in two or three years.” He looked at everyone. “End of discussion.”

“Sweetie?”

“End of discussion.”

––––––––

Music stacked leftover salad and crusty baguettes onto her plate. She licked ginger salad dressing off her fork. “Are we gonna penetrate Harmony’s dry, thirsty s*x life?”

“Music!” Harmony startled the sleek, well-dressed patrons at the next table. “What’s wrong with you?” She pinched her friend’s hairy forearm.

“Hey, we’re rarely in the same room anymore. I’m here for all the shits. All of it. I’ve clocked in and on time.”

“Sweetie, what happened? You said my advice worked.”

“It did, um, for a few weeks. We’ll be fine.” Harmony looked around the lively restaurant. “Can we not discuss this, please?”

“Discuss what? What’s going on?” Preston asked. “Uno never said anything.” He searched through their blank faces. “Oh, come on. Now everyone is silent.”

“My husband doesn’t think we’re having a problem.” Harmony touched the floral arrangement. Vibrant colors and smooth rose petals flirted with her gold wedding ring. “I thought we did, then he explained why we’re not and maybe he’s right.” She twiddled with her glass, plate, fork, napkin, and spoon. “We work a lot and add children, pets, family, appointments, community services, church, mentorship, um... he’s right. We get home pretty late. Honestly, after we’re done with the kids and our own stuff near midnight... no one’s thinking about couples’ time.” She chuckled, spinning her gold wedding ring. “I’ll tell you this, our couples’ time is no kid waking up crying, sneezing, coughing or vomiting.”

“Sweetie, I guess your excuses are cute or whatever, but no s*x. No bueno.”

“What about something quick?” Music slurped her water. “Like oral.”

“Music!” Harmony grabbed the tablecloth for support.

“Marriages are dying because of s*x. I read a article saying hygiene’s a major factor. Duh! I’m totally psychic.” Prudence patted her cashmere-clad shoulders. “You guys should make sure you’re always fresh down there. I’m warning you.”

“Marcus and Harmony’s relationship is a good example for all of us,” Preston said. “They’ve been through too much to simply give up over hygiene or sex.”

“You’re cute.” She pinched his cheek. “I don’t know much about marriage, little bro, but I know s*x. I’ve had my share of married men and some women.”

“What are you suggesting? Uno would never cheat. He loves this woman and their children more than—”

“Hush. Save your minty breath, sweetie. I had him followed. He’s clean.”

“Followed?” Preston pushed his head back, groaned, and frowned at Prudence’s nonchalant smile. “You always take things one step further.”

“I’m helping. Hello!”

“Harmony, I don’t mean to overstep. I think you should seek guidance from Pastor and First Lady.”

“What’s wrong with my help? I’ve been helping, right? Right, Harmony?”

She scratched and spun her gold wedding ring. “Prue and I were talking. She called out a lot of shadows in the dark room.”

“Did you speak with Pastor and First Lady?”

“Um, hello. What’s wrong with my help?”

“Prue, I’m not discrediting your efforts...” Preston drummed his fingers on the white tablecloth. “You provide excellent, wise advice on many subjects; however, let the record reflect... your raised middle at marriage.” He poured water in his glass. “You can’t throw out words like divorce and poor hygiene.”

She turned her black leather chair, facing him. “Hygiene is, like, very important. Why? Men are visual creatures. Have you seen her dirty, smelly robes? You have, so let the record reflect her dirty, smelly robes. It’s not sexy. It’s nasty. Harmony’s not the kinda girl who keeps herself together. I don’t care if she has small kids. I’ll always hold the mirror and send her beauty treatments.”

“Prue, stop.”

“And Marcus. Oh, poor thing. Men should keep themselves together. His fingernails are never clean. He’s still against exfoliating and moisturizing. He needs to maintain those braids or cut them off. I love my Marcus! I really do, but why’s his belly hitting his knees? He’s only turning thirty. It’s not acceptable. He’s skinny-fat. His body is sloppy. He needs a dentist, poor thing. Marcus let himself go.”

Preston dropped his forehead into his hand. “You can’t say these things.”

“Boy, shut up. I’m here for messy Prue.” Music bit into a celery stick. “When she ain’t comin’ for me.”

“Anyhoo, I’m saving her marriage.”

“Are you noticing our friend? She’s crying. You need to be mindful,” Preston said. “It’s great you’re helping. I love that about you. But throw in empathy. Emotional intelligence.”

“See, told you so,” Prudence said to Lola. “They enjoy making me their villain.”

“Trick, you make yourself a villain.”

“I’m not talking to you, Mu-sick.”

“Good and let the record reflect you could eat my ass.”

Harmony squeezed Music’s forearm and whispered in her ear as diners in nearby tables grumbled.

“Lola, pay my sister no mind. She does not acknowledge any negative results from her good intentions.”

“Preston, stop. Stop. You’re bullying me and this is not acceptable. You bully me all the time. Everyone knows it.”

“Prue, we’re having a critical and constructive conversation about—you always do this. May you please stop using that word? It’s ridiculous.”

“Micro-aggression. See? This is micro-aggression.”

“You hear these words on social media and... what does that mean?” He smirked, leaning back in his seat. “What is micro-aggression?”

“I’m not talking to you.” Prudence moved to the other side of the table. “Lola, follow me.”

“No, please.” Harmony threw a white napkin over her wet face. “Please stop.”

*****

Meanwhile, across town....

Reggie trailed Hera’s floral scent on the bustling, populous streets of Fifth Avenue. She spun on her red ankle-strap high heel sandals.

Reggie’s large, hazel eyes were powerless to resist the veil of shimmering stars on her arched, golden feet, toned calves, and smooth, endless legs. His heart swam in memories of passionate kisses, licks and soft bites he sowed in every region below her waist. Fragrances, the fragrances: grapefruit, apple, orange, strawberries, cherries, grapes.... a fruit punch of thirst-quenching scents. Orange, cherries, grapes... cool, refreshing flavor of her skin, her tongue, her—a stinging pain spread across his left, hairy cheek. She slapped him again.

“Wake up! You and me—nothing. We’re over. Finished. I hope you catch a stroke f*****g that semen dumping ground. Oops, I meant your child’s mother.”

Reggie rubbed his throbbing face, eyes lost in her glossy reddish, dark brown mane, wishing he could nuzzle and lose himself in peppermint, lavender... her oils. Oh, how she purred in that spine-tingling, throaty voice as he massaged her scalp with castor oil, lavender, olive, mango, peppermint, coconut. Spine-tingling, throaty laughter. His hands bathed in oils, creams, lotions and massaged her neck, shoulders, arms, lower back... she would not allow his hands on her breast. She said, ‘You only touch these with your lips.’

“Yo, you still got those oils?”

Passersby glanced and mumbled as they hailed cabs, ran into shops, and added extra speed on the monotonous hamster wheel. Another couple fighting on the street.

Hera stepped back from his lanky frame. “You’re not listening or even care. Why would you? I’m the village i***t, and you’re so great at what you do.” She startled a young man who pushed his bike between them. “Hey, kid. If you’re into girls, you could learn from this man.” She hung her black leather handbag on her forearm. “Reg, a man with a job. You two can learn from each other.”

Confused, the young man gawked at the seething figures. He jumped on his bike, almost crashing into a parked baby stroller.

“You having fun, right?” Raging, consuming fires in her eyes destroyed the therapeutic scents dancing around his nose and memory. “Embarrassing me out here.” His stomach twisted and hit the concrete. “What’s up?”

“What’s up? I should be embarrassed. Me.”

“What you talkin‘ about? Huh? Whatever I did, I already said sorry. Damn.”

Hera pushed through the rushing lunch crowd, flyer distributors, and joyous tourists snapping pictures.

“Shorty baby.” He followed on tired, yet determined feet. Early afternoon air lifted her thick mane of copper mahogany hair—glossy silk sheets whirled in eddies of wind and cloudy skies. He followed, grateful for a windy day.

“I’m talkin’ to you. Yo, that’s that bullshit that piss me the f**k off. Nothing’s simple. You always on some mind f**k games. This s**t’s corny, yo. You never talk straight. Come on. Just tell me what’s up. Straight talk makes for straight understanding, you heard.” He kicked a cast iron street signpost.

“Well, well. Cupid’s arrow sure fell out your ass.”

“Be real.” He pulled on his hairy chin. “Talk straight.”

“Now he’s ready to listen,” Hera said to a group of power walking individuals in white robes.

Reggie scratched his throat, forcing his nervous, growling stomach to ignore roast chicken and lamb from a busy food truck. “You got me chasing you out here like some little b***h-a*s nigga.” He seized her wrist.

“Get off me!” She escaped his tight grip. “Vermin. Look at you. Rabid werewolf of daylight.”

Placing both hands on his head, Reggie groaned in exasperation. “What do you want me to do?” A rot appeared at the corners of his eyes. “You stay on some corny, stupid s**t. I don’t know why I come back.”

Hera’s taunting laughter echoed in his ears like ten thousand bells. “Your big d**k can’t buy a bagel and coffee. Or maybe you need...” She smirked. “Toilet paper.”

Reggie’s left fingers dug, dug, dug, discreetly, into the left side of Hera’s hard, lower stomach as he unleashed furious desert air on her face.

“Should I shout your lies, cheating... parole violations? Good. I always knew you cared more about yourself.” She raced down the street. “Taxi!”

*****

“Sweetie, you’re loving the roast quail.” Smiling, Prudence poked at her grilled chicken Caesar salad. “Slow down, sweetie. You don’t wanna be the girl who died swallowing quail. You too, little bro.”

Preston nodded at Music and Prudence. “Meat. Good.”

“You two are crazy. Lola, sweetie, how’s your brisket sandwich? Very good. How’s your pasta, Harmony? Those little red tomatoes are everything.”

“Yes, thanks for choosing my lunch. The closest thing we come to pasta and vegetables are boxed macaroni and bagged salad. I’m such a horrible mom.”

“No, sweetie. You’re a working mother. Trust me, when those pesky children are older, they’ll remember your hugs more than boxed macaroni. Do they still make boxed macaroni?”

“Bless your heart. I just can’t with you. When’s the last time you went to a supermarket?”

“Who knows? Probably the last time I was on a train. Yuck. I don’t do the subway.”

“I took her to a Post office for the first time,” Preston said.

“I hate that place. It was torture.”

Harmony giggled, wiping tomato sauce off her mouth. “I hope your future husband’s rich enough. You’re a handful, Sugar plum.”

“He got money. What you call him? The Roman Numeral.” Music chomped on a quail leg. “Did she show you his plane? Y’all heard me? His plane. How many peoples y’all know got a plane? Prudy, tell your man I don’t mind being a mistress.” Music bounced her shoulders to a Pop song on the stereo.

“Ladies, we came way too far to stop planting our seeds by the river.”

“Harmony, shut up. He got a plane.” Music jumped up and stomped her feet.

Ruckus laughter exploded on the table.

“Oh, right?” Prudence hid her grin behind a glass of water. “You’re into boys now.” She took a long sip.

“Keep playin’ in my face, trick.” Music spoke with her mouth full.

“Sweetie, you like him. I could see it in your eyes.”

Music waved her fork at Preston. “You better grab your sister before I snatch her.”

“What’s going on now?” Preston rested his fork and knife.

“Sweetie, there’s nothing wrong with being, um, sexually fluid. You don’t have to box yourself. We get it. You’re a lesbian. But it’s okay to be attracted to, like, another human person.”

“I don’t like him.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I’m always late in the game.” He shrugged his shoulders and refreshed Lola’s water glass.

“Comprehension is everything and you’re, like, so ignorant.”

“I’ll punch you dead in the face.” Music licked lentil sauce off her lips. “I’m not sexually attracted to that man. Are you dumb? Airhead. I don’t wanna kiss him, love him or fuck.”

Harmony almost choked on a broccoli, coughing and sipping water. She apologized to Lola and encouraged Music to be aware of eavesdropping patrons. “Sugar plum, why must you speak like that?”

“Because I’m grown and Prue won’t leave me alone.”

“You ladies are spicier than my grandma’s gumbo. We’re changing the subject,” Harmony said. “Prue, how’s that awesome salad?”

“Fabulous, of course.” She cut and nibbled on a small piece of chicken breast.

“I know I keep bringing it up. Sorry. I’m just so happy, Sugar plum. Whoopee.”

“Harmony can’t stop smiling because her prayers were answered like always,” Prudence said to Lola. “I’m sure you’ve read all those stories. Oh, the stories. The publicity. Everybody knows all about me.” She poured more orange dressing on her salad. “It’s not easy, sweetie. Sometimes I fall, but I try again. I’m taking things one bite at a time.”

Harmony’s goofy, toothy smile grew while Prudence ate. “I’m so proud of you. We don’t get to see each other much, but wow, you’re cleaning house and most importantly, you’re consistent. Lola, what you’ve probably read about Prue is nothing compared to what we all... she almost... we almost lost our Prudence.” She wiped the corners of her eyes with a cloth napkin. “I can’t even talk. I’m sorry.”

“Sweetie, no. Please don’t.” She squeezed Harmony’s wrist. “I can’t thank you enough. All of you. Great, now I’m crying.”

Preston wiped his mouth and stood beside Prudence. “Come here.” He hugged her tightly and kissed her forehead. “I could be annoying. Sometimes too controlling. I’m learning to back off a bit, so please be patient with me.” They locked eyes for a moment. “I love you. I...” He raised her lowered chin. “I need you to live, Prue Bear. We’ll get through this. Health, court, money, everything. It’s only us now. Only us.” Preston held her shaky hands. “I need you as well.”

Lola and Harmony drowned in their own tears, but Music, Music?

“My, my goodness gracious. Music is that a... Music are you...”

“Stop! Don’t be touchin’ my face, Harmony. You wanna fight? What’s with all the feelings stuff this week? We’re turning thirty, not dying.”

––––––––

Half-hour later...

Music slipped the last piece of cheesecake in her mouth and savored the bittersweet chocolate and strawberry as it melted and grew in flavor. She licked her spoon clean. “Hey, when we gonna attack those cup—oh, hell to the naw.”

Prudence turned in her seat. “She’s here. Sweetie, please be extra nice. There’ll be no name-calling or throwing things. Behave, sweetie. And hopefully we could work on, like, building new friendships or—hey, bestie! Yes, legs. I knew you could rock those shoes. Ladies, never be afraid to wear a higher heel.” She sighed as Hera graced the table with a glower and crossed arms. “Oh, sweetie...” She placed a quick kiss on her friend’s cheek. “Anyhoo, one little, tiny critique is red shoes are not appropriate daytime wear, unless you’re going to war.”

“It’s with you I should go to war, Mother of Deception. Mother of Lies.”

Prudence chuckled as she glided to her seat. “Come. Sit next to me. I sent Preston after Reggie.”

“I don’t care about Reggie.”

“Sure, of course. You met my intern. I think you did.” She glanced at Lola’s nodding head.

“Why am I smelling that unmade bed,” a grimace possessed Hera’s face as Harmony spun her gold ring, “and her derelict fishwife?”

“Say it to my face, trick.” Music banged her fist on the table. “Say it to my face.”

“No, please.” Harmony stood in front of Music. “We’re not skipping down this brick road.”

“Girl, boo. I’m a grown-a*s woman. I fight when I wanna fight.” She yanked a pair of metal studded, fingerless leather gloves from her pocket.

“Ladies, I know people here...” Prudence tossed a cozy smile and casual wave at celebrities and eccentric social media influencers. “My peers are looking.”

Hera released her hand from Prudence’s tight grip and sat. “Bones don’t chase dogs. You know where I live, work and play.”

“I definitely do, trick.”

“Then come at me.”

“I will, trick.” Music twisted her lips, glared and huffed, but she did not move an inch towards Hera.

“I thought we could, like, raise a white flag and move forward because... maybe Preston was right,” Prudence said to Lola. “This idea sucks.”

“But I’m the troublemaker.” Hera frowned at an urgent text message on her business cellphone. She quickly typed a response.

“Prue’s heart is good.” Harmony hid her trembling hands under the table.

“You’re still alive?” Hera said.

“Hey! Keep playin’ in her face.” Music slapped a cupcake off the table and smashed another with her fist. “Evil trick.”

“There’s food on your chin.” Hera yawned, reading a second text message. “Prue, I’m leaving.”

“Good riddance. You, you... low down, trash, bird, piece of—”

“In front of you? No. Not in front of you.”

“Shut up!”

“You shut the hell up. Lunatic.”

“Make me. Make me shut up.”

“Cacodemon.”

“Your mother. Yeah, roll them eyes.” Music flashed her middle finger. “What you goin’ do? Abracadabra a rabbit out my a*s. Curse me like you fail at cursing Harmony. Ha-ha. You lose. You hella mad.”

“Why would I waste my precious energy on you? Stop, don’t answer that. Think and apply it to your miserable life.”

“Prue, don’t cry.” Harmony connected her forehead on her friend’s damp eyebrows. “Lola, please give her a napkin.”

“We spoke about this crying nonsense.” Hera lifted her eyes from an email. “You paid already? Let’s go.”

“I just... I just want us to make peace and celebrate our thirtieth. Sweetie, I almost died. And now I could go to prison. I...” Prudence took a napkin from Lola. “Thanks.”

Hera groaned, throwing her head back. “Delusional cocaine s**t. Did you deep-fry your brain again?”

“Yup, that’s the bestie? Your sister, huh? Huh, Prue?” Music swiped her tongue across her teeth, still savoring the taste of chocolate cheesecake.

“Sugar plum,” Harmony called Prudence in a gentle voice, sniffing back her tears. “I hope you remember our conversation about emotional a***e, especially from our loved ones.” She wrung her sweaty hands, dodging Hera’s scrutinizing, flaming eyes. “Lola, it was a pleasure. I hope I’ll be seeing you soon. You have my school address. Music, we could ride the train downtown.”

“Cool. Can’t wait to see my Marky P.”

“Music! Why? Just why?” Harmony quickly gathered her belongings.

“Yes, Marcus Patrick.” Hera cast a gleeful grin over a shaken Harmony. “How’s that sweet ex of mine? Marcus Patrick. What a man. Attractive, intelligent, always kind, and attentive. He would sooner stab his own heart before breaking yours. I...” She swooned over an old classical on the stereo, pressing her cellphone on her chest. “I was the first girl he ever kissed. Who can forget those comforting, honey-flavored lips? I was his first kiss, Harmony. Remember?”

She bowed her head, zipping her wallet. “I, um...”

Music slapped Harmony’s arm. “Stop being a punk. Fight back.”

“Let’s just go. I don’t want conflict.”

“Hell, I do. Because at the end of the day,” Music cleared her throat, “a first kiss don’t mean nothing when Harmony’s his first love. Bam! Boom! And that’s too bad, too sad for your evil trick-a*s because her faithful, lovin‘ husband, I repeat, faithful and lovin‘ husband has cut through them weeds, broke all your smoky mirrors—I’m preachin’ here. He pulled his ostrich head-a*s out that wicked, wicked ground and opened his eyes. Yes, he did! He open them eyes and now he sees. He sees you for the Jezebel you truly are. Trick! Now where’s my collection bucket?”

“Prue, you hearing this? She found her life in your wine cellar again. Dirty, ragged, snaggletooth rodent. Marcus adores me.”

“Not anymore,” Music said. “Hey, don’t lie. You called Child Protective Services. You did! Trick, come on, no matter what bullshit y’all going through, it is bullshit, you don’t try throwing her kids in foster care. Harmony, your turn. Say something.”

“People are staring.” Harmony tugged on Music’s sleeve. “Let’s just go.”

“Hell naw. You gonna pop her dead in the face.” She pulled two roses out of the vase and tossed it on the floor. “You had her investigated for child a***e. Those kids was scared. How would you feel having Caseworkers all up in your face? Would you like that? Would you? She has Caseworkers in her house. In the kids school. Yeah, roll your eyes. She almost lost her job over this. You went too far. What if they take her kids?”

“Fake news,” Hera said to Lola.

“It’s not fake news, trick. You called, trick. It was you, trick. Harmony went through some real s**t after her last pregnancy. She was watching him. Little Marcus ran across the street by accident.”

Harmony withered under the weight of curious, questioning faces. “I can’t do this. Please. I can’t go back there.”

“Sweetie, we all should go.”

“I ain’t going nowhere. We doing this today.” Music threatened to throw a flower at Prudence. “I’m gonna lay a heavy hand on you for starting this mess.”

“Me? I didn’t do anything.”

“How she find out Little Marcus almost got killed?”

“Why are you asking—I don’t know.” Prudence’s eyes ran around the busy room. “I, um, I-I don’t think. I don’t remember saying anything.”

“You never think or remember.”

“Wait. Hold up. Why are you involving me?”

“Again, stupid, how else would she find out about Little Marcus?”

“Harmony’s my friend, my sister. I love her family. Do you seriously believe I would hurt them?”

“Trick, you can’t hold water and your hands ain’t clean.”

“Okay, first of all, even if I accidentally told her, I wouldn’t do it on purpose. Hera’s an adult. Whatever she does with that information is not my responsibility. She makes her own decisions, good or bad. It has nothing to do with me.”

“Trick, do you hear yourself?” She ripped Prudence’s glittery birthday card.

“Lovely, sweetie. Feel better now?”

Music rained small pieces of paper on the flowers and cupcakes. “Hera, on some real s**t, did you lie to Child Protective Services?”

“I don’t want sewer breath blowing near me.”

“Hera says don’t speak to her.”

“She’s guilty!” Music waved a soiled napkin, gathering attention on Hera.

“Poor thing, your tongue is so dry,” Prudence said. “You want and need to believe that she called.”

“Why you keep defending her?”

“Why do you believe she called?”

“I gotta sixth sense.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“She’s a cunt.”

Gasps and shocked whispers surrounded their table. Harmony attempted to block Music’s fidgety body from disapproving stares. “You can’t say that.” She cupped her friend’s sweaty face. “Let’s just leave.”

Hera checked the time, her business calendar and typed an urgent email.

“I don’t care about her. I don’t care about her. Yeah, laugh. I don’t care about you.” Music kicked the table as Hera’s sarcastic, throaty laugh attacked her like an unbearable itchy scalp. She shoved Harmony’s hands off her face. “This woman’s the sweetest, nicest person. She’s in church. She loves people. Who else wanna hurt her besides you? Yeah, keep laughing. Go ahead.” She turned to Harmony, who hid her wet face behind loose blonde curls. “You need to confront these girls. I can’t be the only one always screamin’ and looking crazy.”

Harmony mumbled and gulped under the torrential downpour of scrutinizing eyes. She spun her gold wedding ring. “I, um...” Her shoulder surrendered to the comfort of Prudence’s right hand.

“This some bullshit.” Music sucked her teeth as Prudence and Harmony hugged, cried, and Lola supplied napkins. “I swear on everything I love.”

––––––––

Hera gritted her teeth and stormed across a high tide of mumbling and discreet finger pointing. She stopped near the crowded entrance. A frustrated child’s screechy voice tickled her ears. She rushed back, bumping and scolding a young server who crossed her with a large black tray of warm lentil and tomato soups.

“Sweetie, hi. What’s wrong?”

“I have some things to get off my chest.” She brushed crumbs off a black leather chair.

“Since you lookin’ dead in my face...” Music leaned back, legs open. “I got some things also.”

“You care about children.”

“Yeah, and? Her kids are my heart.”

“How sweet. You ever been with a man?”

“My truth is my art. My photography. What’s up?”

Hera pursed her lips as Harmony arranged scattered tableware. “You’re awful. Move.” A smug glow. She set the cutlery and glassware in its appropriate place and properly folded the white linen napkins. “Learn.” Harmony’s downcast cornflower blue eyes sparked a blazing sneer across Hera’s face.

“Hello?” Music threw a napkin over Hera’s work.

“Who was the father?”

“What? What you talkin’ about?” Music rubbed her squinting eyes, forehead, and tried to stand, but her legs repeatedly plopped on the chair.

“Who was the father?” Hera gazed at Music and Prudence.

Prudence drifted from Harmony and opened her arms. “Sweetie, please don’t be mad. I can explain.”

“You triflin’, two-face...” Music grabbed the edge of the table, breathing heavy.

Harmony cleared all utensils. “Come along. Let’s leave. Come along. Court, probation, Officer Jackson. Please, let’s leave. Come along, Sugar plum.”

Music closed her eyes. “I... I. How could you do this to me? I came to you. I came to you because you’re good with this stuff.” She locked her misty eyes on Prudence. “You told Hera.”

“I can explain. Sweetie, this happened years ago. I don’t know why Hera brings up old stuff. We were on the phone, remember? I was helping you, right? The service was bad. I was on a yacht or Monaco, who knows? The service was poor. I think I accidentally, like, hit the, the speaker button. It was a new phone. I didn’t know how to take it off speaker, and Hera overheard. She overheard, sweetie.”

“You cryin’?”

“I feel badly about this whole... I’m sorry.”

“Your face ain’t wet enough.” She threw a full glass of water over the table, missing Prudence and splashing Lola.

Harmony ran to a distressed Lola with a napkin as Prudence moved behind Hera.

“My bad.”

Prudence held the sides of Hera’s chair. “You’re disgusting. Is this the thanks I get for feeding you?”

“Come here. Say it to my face. Scary-a*s trick.”

“You’re disgusting. Go away.”

“Make me!” Music flung a napkin over the table. “You can’t fight, trick. You know you can’t fight.”

“Prue,” Harmony said.

Prudence embraced the cool air flowing through the ceiling vent. A deep breath and slow exhale. “Sweetie...” She floated on her bloomed, colorful roses as Harmony encouraged her to apologize. “Sweetie, please listen to me.”

“No, you listen to me.”

“I need to tell you something.”

“No. Lemme tell you a something, bitch.” Music held her index finger across the table like a flaming sword. “I ain’t the b***h you wanna rah-rah, you wanna mess with, feel me? I’ll drag you. I’ll knock your b***h-a*s out, stupid hoe.”

Stunned eyes and frozen mouths circled their table. The hostess turned up Smooth Jazz and relaxed complaints, whispers and finger pointing with friendly smiles, promises, nods and a light touch on the shoulder.

“Well,” Hera said. “You could scrape a gremlin hooker off the streets, but you can’t scrape the streets...”

“Shut up! You need to get the hell out my life.” Music punched and shook the table while Harmony and Lola scrambled to stabilize the glass vase, cupcakes, and water pitchers.

“You’re such an angry little person,” Hera said.

Harmony pulled Music from the table and blocked her path towards Prudence. “We’re not doing all of that.”

Screaming like an elephant demanding her tusk, Music climbed on, kicked the table and leather chairs as she attempted every escape from Harmony’s firm hold on her waist. Red velvet cupcakes, water and flowers wreaked havoc on the white linen tablecloth. Music snatched a crystal water pitcher. Hera stood, cracking her knuckles. Music flung the pitcher on the table and presented her middle finger.

“You’ve ruined everything.” Prudence pointed at broken glass and ceramic. “She needs to go back in. Like, seriously. Someone should call Dr. Francois.”

“You’re bringing gasoline to a fire,” Harmony said. “I’m disappointed, Prue. You said you’re changing.”

“Right! About time you started talking.” Music placed both hands on her hips. “Roast her punk-ass.”

“Disappointed?” Prudence said.

“Yes, and you may be mad like a wolf trying a porcupine, but I love you. I want you to keep growing. You need—why are you laughing?”

“Are you disappointed in anyone else here? Are you asking anyone else to apologize?”

“Prue, that’s not fair.”

“I don’t wanna hear it, especially from you.”

“Me? What did I do?”

“Something you never do. When are you ever going to defend me, Harmony?”

“I’m not defending or taking sides.”

“Your action says different,” Prudence said. “Hera, does Harmony defend me?”

“Never.”

“See, even Hera agrees, and she’s too mean to lie.”

“You shouldn’t let her speak to you that way,” Hera added. “Who does she think she is compared to you? They’re not your friends. You don’t listen.”

“Prudence, my heart, they say you having a world war,” said a salt-pepper haired man. Two tall, brawny waiters accompanied him. “What happen, most beautiful?”

“Fredrick, sweetie, I’m really sorry.” She double air-kissed his scruffy face, playfully running her fingers down his thin, blue tie. “I’m loving this color on you.” She caressed his doughy neck and ears. “I’m terribly sorry about this, this crazy. And after all you’ve done for me today. I feel badly about this. Like, really bad. We’ll leave, my love.”

“No, no. Please stay with us, most beautiful.” Fredrick drew her into a tight hug. “It’s your birthday. I can’t have you leave. No, most beautiful.” He kissed her hand. “You always look so good. You always smell so good. You always—” Fredrick’s eager right hand shriveled and fell off Prudence’s collarbone as he caught Hera’s glacial glare. “What do you need, most beautiful? Anything?” He stuffed his hands in his pocket.

“May you please have Juan and Joseph remove that little one? No, not that one. Her. With the dry pigtails.”

“You kickin’ me out. You kickin’ me out.” Music searched her front and back denim pockets.

“Prue, is that necessary? No!” Harmony grabbed a small metal object from Music.

“Throw them both out,” Hera said.

Fredrick snapped his fingers. Juan and Joseph were standing beside Music within seconds. “Do as Lady Prudence demand.”

Music shoved Joseph’s blue-gloved hand off her shoulder. “Don’t touch me.” She tossed her messenger bag and jacket on the floor. “I fight men.”

“Sir, please don’t touch her.” Harmony picked up Music’s belongings. “It’ll only make matters—stop, please.” She flailed her arms, attempting to shield Music from the waiters and hungry cellphone cameras.

Hera read a text message and swept her eyes across the eclectic madhouse She found the louring glance of two russet-bearded gentlemen. “Great, my father’s property investors are here.”

Music kicked and crushed red velvet cupcakes under her black canvas sneakers.

“I swear, if my father loses... she doesn’t even care. Leprechaun half-breed.”

Cackling, Music bent over and rubbed her a*s. “Eat me.” She waved off Harmony’s comforting hand, pleas, and continued mocking the uproar.

“Prue, this is your fault. You should’ve left that parasitic leech—-” Hera threw a leather chair at Music’s joyous face.

Dropping her cupcake, Lola dashed, leapt and caught the soaring chair. She crashed against the table. Chaos rained on expensive linen and carpet. Harmony and Fredrick helped her off the floor as patrons loudly grumbled, laughed, or captured the wild scene on their phones.

“Lovely, sweetie. Thanks for involving my intern in your evil, your jealousy, you-you-you are... wow. I’m-I’m...” Prudence shook her head while Fredrick instructed a waiter to clean the mess. “I’m so embarrassed.” She crossed her arms. “Please leave. Now.”

“Why me? Hera throw the chair. Oh, thanks intern.” She blew a kiss at Lola. “Anyway, Hera throw the chair.”

“I don’t care. You were bullying her. You bully me. I’m done. No more friendship.”

“About freaking time.” Hera clapped.

“Sugar plum... Prue, you can’t say that.” Harmony stood beside Music.

“Really, Harmony? Music’s playing with the match and gasoline, but you’re blaming me. Really?” Prudence gave Fredrick’s forearm a light squeeze. “Sweetie, my love, may you please remove that little one?”

Joseph hoisted Music over his shoulder in a quick, smooth motion.

“Prue, stop him,” Harmony screamed, tugging on Music’s leg and pushing Juan.

A hailstorm of punches and kicks ravaged Joseph’s back and torso. Knees buckling, he paused every two steps. A camera flash struck his eyes. He tripped over a bag, catching himself as Harmony and Juan grabbed Music.

Fredrick mentioned calling the police.

“Sugar plum, please. Let’s leave,” Harmony said over Hera’s cheering.

“Oh, yeah.” Music slipped from Harmony and the waiters’ grasp, ran, bit into a red velvet cupcake, and sprayed chunky saliva on the table. “Y’all can’t charge me for property damage. Ha-ha.” She continued spitting.

The waiters dragged and carried Music through the packed restaurant as Fredrick and his staff calmed frustrated patrons. Harmony followed, begging her friend to stop resisting and spitting.

“I can’t have one nice day. One.” Prudence plunged into the floor. Gold, cashmere and hair swirled around dark, hard carpet as a tidal wave of gasps and flashing cellphone cameras flooded the room. Hera, Fredrick, and Lola helped Prudence to her feet.

“Help!” a patron screamed.

Harmony ran to a table. “Ma’am, are you okay? Ma’am?” She knelt beside an elderly woman, who struggled to sit up on the floor. Her eyes leapt between the woman and Music’s blazing war. A swarm of waiters and worried patrons surrounded the table. The elderly woman waved off every extended hand. “Should we call an ambulance?” Harmony asked her gentleman companion.

“My wife’s a stubborn relic. Let her be.”

“She’s dead!” someone said above the commotion.

The woman grumbled, fanning herself. She reached for her husband’s hand.

“Tell them how you fell.” A laugh escaped his mouth.

She guffawed, looking at Harmony and Fredrick. “I got too involved in the drama.”