Chapter 30 We Might Need Jesus and a Contractor (Lotus)(Joy)
That Afternoon.
Joy showed up twenty minutes early, her dark-pink turban headband pulling her hair neatly from her face while the rest fell freely down her back. Blue jeggings hugged her curves, and her pale-pink oversized cardigan carried that familiar apple-spice scent soft, warm, and undeniably her. She looked like comfort walked in the room with attitude and a mission.
In her hands, she carried a tub of home-cooked Dominican food she’d made herself—Lotus’s favorite locrio with tender chicken, sweet fried plantains, and a bottle of hibiscus juice to top it all off. Steam still curled from the lid as she stepped inside.
“Hold up, let me check you real quick make sure you still breathing and not replaced by a hologram,” Joy joked, eyes scanning Lotus up and down with mock suspicion as she toed off her shoes.
One glance around the room told her everything: half-empty water bottles, notebooks on the nightstand, curtains drawn just right. “Mmhmm,” she said, hands on her hips. “You been here for days. We definitely need to talk.” Then her tone softened. “But first, let’s feed our souls, ‘cause you look like you been forgetting to eat.”
She set the containers on the coffee table, popped the lids, and the aroma of sofrito, spice, and fried plantains filled the air. Lotus hadn’t realized how hungry she was until that smell hit her—rich, warm, and familiar.
Joy grinned. “Lotus, you know food is my love language.”
Lotus laughed, shaking her head. “Girl, sit down. You talk like I joined witness protection.”
“Look, I don’t play about you, sis,” Joy said, plopping down on the couch. “Now spill it.”
And Lotus did. Everything. The fight with her mama, Cam’s discovery, the hidden property on Pinewood and 9th of it.
Joy blinked. “Wait… wait. Your mama really kept a whole house in your name and didn’t say a word?”
“Yup,” Lotus said flatly. “Watched me pay rent like a fool while she sitting on deeds and secrets.”
Joy threw her hands up. “Chile… these mothers be running generational scams like it’s a family business!”
They both laughed harder than they expected to.
Lotus wiped her eyes. “You know what though? I’m done being the strong one while folks sip from my bucket. I’m using what I got—my savings, my tech hustle money. Let’s fix the Pinewood house. Move in. Start over. Build something that’s ours.”
Joy stared at her. “Girl, deadass?”
Lotus nodded. “As a heart attack.”
Joy leaned back, grinning slow. “See, this why I love you. You got the vision and the crazy to pull it off. Alright then, let’s do it. We gon’ flip this generational mess into generational wealth.”
Lotus laughed. “Amen to that.”
Later that day, they pulled up to Pinewood and 9th.
The house looked like a tired old soul paint peeling, porch leaning, weeds everywhere but it stood proud. Like it’d been waiting for them to come home.
Carole had left the keys in the rusty mailbox, wrapped in plastic like a secret she hoped nobody would find.
When they stepped inside, the air was thick with dust and silence. Floorboards groaned. The fan flickered like it was still deciding whether to live or die.
Joy wrinkled her nose. “It smell like somebody’s memories and bad decisions.”
Lotus snorted. “It’s fine. We’ll air it out. Get some sage, some Lysol, maybe a priest.”
“Girl, we might need Jesus and a contractor,” Joy shot back.
They cracked up, both of them holding onto that laughter like oxygen.
Then Lotus’s phone rang. The sound sliced through the moment, sharp and sudden.
Joy glanced over. “Who’s that?”
Lotus picked up the phone, looked at the screen and her face had a questionable look to it.
Lotus took a deep breath, thumb hovering over the green button.
“Here we go,” she said quietly.
Unknown number.
She answered, hesitant.
“Hello, this is Mr. Wu’s secretary,” the voice chirped. “Just confirming are you and Miss Joy still available for the meeting this Friday at 11AM?”
Lotus blinked. Looked at Joy. Joy looked back, confused but intrigued.
Lotus cleared her throat.
“Yes,” she said.
Joy smirked. “We are now.