“Me, Trevor, and Monique.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep. Ma, you don’t know how many kids at school’s parents is divorced. And I been so happy all these years that I could say my parents ain’t even thinking about getting no divorce, and that I got a very cool dad. I mean, come on, Ma, Daddy does everything around here, and he takes us places, and not every father will wash and braid his daughters’ hair.”

“Girl, that was so long ago.”

“Me and Monique ain’t forgot it. And even Aunt Suzie Mae think you way off base.”

“Is that so?” I say, even though what I really feel like saying is, “FUCK ALL Y’ALL,” at the top of my lungs, but I know that would be wrong. I bought this book a couple of weeks ago about feeling good, and one part of it was about controlling your anger, and it said people need to learn how not to say the first thing that comes into their mind, ’cause sometimes it can be more hurtful than you think. This is some hard shit to do. The book even said you can control your thinking, which is news to me, but according to this stupid test I took, a lot of my thoughts is negative, which means sometimes I may not be seeing things the way they really are. I don’t quite buy that. But some of it do make sense. And some of it don’t. Do I always think I’m right? Yeah, ’cause most of the time I am. I don’t say nothing if I can’t back it up. I had to stop reading that book, ’cause it was getting on my nerves, just like Tiffany is now. But it did get me to thinking that maybe I might need more than a book. Maybe I might need a real person to talk to.

“Hi, Ma,” Trevor says, coming into the family room and handing me my ticket. “Here you go. And as we always say: Lotto Love!”

“Would you get me a drink, please?”

“Certainly. What might I make for you this evening?”

“I don’t care. Just as long as it bite.”

“Okay, Ma, what was it you was saying about Daddy?”

“Nothing. Y’all just gon’ have to wait and see what happen. Just like me.”

“Wait and see?” Trevor says.

“That’s what I said.”

“Where’s Daddy staying anyway?”

“With one of his buddies.” I turn the TV to Channel 9. I been doing this every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for I don’t know how many years. One day I’ma win. I just know it. And when I do, me and Mama been had a deal going for so long that whoever hit first split it. I’d be so happy to have a little bit of money to share with her. It wouldn’t even matter if we ain’t speaking. A deal is a deal. Plus, it would be one thing I could give her on my own.

“Which buddy?” he asks.