well, juneteenth has come and gone, but the OCs are still here. here is a moment of silence for my nappy-haired queen doing her mother's hair for her. Please excuse how rude and grouchy Dorine is, she's not exactly a heroine
“I haven’t been able to do my hair in 10 days because of you girls,” she mutters on the verge of tears as I hand her the spoon. “My scalp hurts, and my curls are all tangled up like a steel wool. That bratty sister of yours doesn’t even have the decency to say she’s not coming and you’re always too busy with whatever romance, “Honey…Butter” hogwash you’re working on.”
I should say something sympathetic.
I turn and put the soy cheese in the fridge.
“No doubt she’s out somewhere with that good-for-nothing dad of hers, spoiling her into a good-for-nothing princess who thinks she’s too pretty and grown up to have time for her own ma...”
I start setting out her combs and lay the towel across her shoulders so I can wet and section out her hair before I wash it.
“...and she leaves me stuck with you of all the cold-blooded, stone-hearted creatures on God’s green earth,” she shakes her head as her frown lengthens again and deepens the creases on either side of her mouth. “One daughter won’t show any love to her ma whatsoever, and the other acts like she doesn’t know what the word means. How I birthed two such unnatural, ungrateful little heathens I’ll never know. I was born under a curse. Pearl and the rest of ‘em like to talk and tell me that Heaven is always fair. Is this fair?! That bunch of stuck-up floppy-hat-wearing lady peacocks think I earned this? Essence, you’re pulling my hair.”
“I’m sorry,” I say quickly, and I try to move more carefully without sacrificing speed, but all the while she rants, I'm mouthing the rest of today's to-do list to myself.
