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#and I can’t afford a damn house and I have zero clue what I’m even doing with my life
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Went with my bestie and her wife to pick up their golden retriever puppy today. I now have a nephew lol. He’s so damn cute and fuzzy. I want one so bad
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jkid4 · 5 years
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I already got my Christmas present: Being abandoned by everyone
This Christmas is the worst Christmas I’ve had ever. And it will be my last Christmas, because I’m not looking forward to 2019 at all. For the past year, I’ve been seeking real substantial help for me and my parents because I’ve been a sole provider for my parents for the past 4 years. My mom has a job now, but her job as a staff at a small city government is overworking her for relatively little pay. She might be paid in the low 30 thousands but in practice after taxes it’s in the mid 20 thousands. Her boss has been over-demanding for everything no matter how much she tries her best. Worse, she gets contently reminded about how her position is probationary and how she can be let go.
I’ve been trying to seek help whatever I can think of and whomever I can think of about my story, about my skills and I’ve been left behind and abandoned by people who are supposed to help me as a black-American and a person with autism.
I’ve reached out to websites, newspapers, TV shows, local and national celebs, radio channels about my four year ordeal. But I either get ignored, promised they will help but then at the last minute can’t help, or have zero clue what to do with my story or wiling to research what I say. No matter how many tweets, emails or phone calls, they end up turning into brick walls or stonefaced every time. They even forget to call back when they tell they will and I have to call them back the day afterward to get them do what they told me to.
Even I had multiple redditors and people online offered to help me, and I accept the help. But when I follow up with them on a weekly basis, they made excuse after excuse why they have not done anything ,stringing me along, and tell me to just “hang in there” and “you’re doing the best you can” when I tell them that my parents are upset over an expense I can’t control because I don’t have a job. Then they refer me to programs that don’t actually help me the more times I follow up weekly. Then afterwards they just leave me on read or not even bother reading my messages or return my voice mails. These same people never checked up on me to see if I was doing I had this happen to me multiple times, and it was clear that they had no sense of urgency despite them knowing I’ve been in this crisis for four years.
I’ve been trying hard to get another job but every attempt at her getting another job by networking she gets flaked and abandoned a week later. Meanwhile the bills have been piling up no matter what I do.
It also took me TWO months to get social services to take our crisis seriously, because they wanted more information and dragging my case because we don’t have any children. They even asked us if we actually made a payment in while waiting for a crisis grant for the mortgage.
Worse, I could not afford to pay $30 per day to uber to and from my temp job anymore I could barely afford it. I’ve reached out to /r/Assistance, but my plea was ignored and downvoted to 0 by trolls who are just waiting for me to be homeless so they can laugh at my miserly.
But when I found out that my job coach I’ve been working with from the MD Department of Rehabilitation that he knows of a contact that he’s been working with to meet up with me on Monday, I decided to call off work. Then the delays and excuses came: “Can’t get a meeting on Monday, we’ll work on Wednesday”, then Wednesday came, told me “shooting for a meeting on Friday and Monday”. He knew that Monday is practically a holiday, so at this point I knew he was simply going to blow me off and not admit that there no meeting planned. I tried to follow up with him over the phone or text but he ignored the phone calls and ignored most of my texts. And on Friday and Monday he just basically never there, basically abandoned me.
Then later today, I got a mail saying that the mortgage company intends to foreclose on the house my parents have been living in despite sending us two payments in this month. Then last week, I get drop served papers by a credit card company when I had to use what little money I have to put a roof over my parents head when my unemployment benefits ran out despite my best efforts seeking new work.
This is my reward and Christmas present for being a financial caregiver and sacrificing my youth to my unemployed parents, being told that no one actually gives a damn about your crisis and you will be homeless anyway. And all the shelters in the DC area are full, no one will take them. My parents are not mental or physically equipped to being homeless. And every last person who offered help but then abandoned and left on me read would not gave a damn what I’m going through now.
If I wanted to sell the house, it will take months for the sale to go through and we will still have to pay to live.
If 2019 is just going to be me and family being homeless despite everything I’ve done for the past 4 years, and getting nothing but false hope, platitudes and straight abandonment when I reach out for help for the rest of my life, then there’s no point in continuing to fight for what I want. I was not even in the mood to celebrate Christmas at all, but now I’m in absolutely no mood at all. All I want is a miracle, but there won’t be on for me, ever.
I’ve gotten my last Christmas present.
I don't want your platitudes, false hope, feel good bullshit, guilt trips, or any persuading that homelessness isn't that bad. I don't want to hear it, nor your generic advice about my situation because I barely have money to do anything or to relocate. I'm fucking sorry.
Even sorries mean nothing now. All I wanted was a life, but now that door is closed to me, and I'm not equipped to be homeless at all. As soon as it happens I'm planning to end it.
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caranfindel · 5 years
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Recap/review 14.12: Prophet and Loss”
THEN: Donatello. \o/ Nick. /o\ Michael. The box.
NOW: The bottom of the ocean. Dean in the box. Banging on it with bloody fingers. Water dripping. Creaks. Panic. Calling out for Sam. Phone dying. Darkness!
Title card!
Oh, it was just a dream. Were you fooled?
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I mean this frantic battery death is a dead giveaway.
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Speaking of dreams, a door opens and we see Sam clad in sweatpants, a t-shirt, and socks. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: if I get nothing else from this episode - and there's a good chance I won't (you know why) - at least I got THIS.
(Tumblr mobile is being an asshole and won’t let me insert any of my own screencaps, and the gif search isn’t giving me many for this ep. But I need to break all this text up with some images. So pretend this is Sam in a t-shirt and sweats trying to comfort Dean after his nightmare.)
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Close enough, right?
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He apologizes for waking Dean, who (strangely enough) admits he was having a nightmare. And whose real-life fingers are also bloody, from scratching the wall in his sleep. Sam asks if he wants to talk about it and Dean tells him to go to sleep. Sam switches to I know you're scared, and I know we're always maybe gonna die but this is even worse because Michael's gonna keep you buried alive forever and I kinda love the way Sam isn't bothering to sugarcoat the situation at ALL. He's convinced they have to find another way. Dean's convinced there isn't one.
(Sidebar: The guys are in a pretty nice (for them) hotel room. I wonder if this was deliberate. I wonder if Dean said I want a decent hotel room for once, just like he wanted to finally celebrate Christmas, or if Sam picked it.)
Elsewhere, a guy dumps salt into a tank of water and drowns a woman in it, carving her arm up while he's at it. When he's done, he gazes skyward and listens to the voices inside his head.
Cut to Nick in the hospital. Do you care? I don't either. Let's cut to the chase and say he ends up escaping. On to better things.
The Impala pulls up at a rest area. She's pulling a trailer? Oh no, I don't think that's a good idea. Dean asks Sam if he's still with him on the plan, and again, Sam isn't sugarcoating ANYTHING, telling Dean that he gave him his word but he hates the plan and Mom hates the plan and Dean needs to tell Cas and Jack about the plan. Dean's stalling on that because he's afraid they'd "shake" him, and Sam says that being shook "wouldn't be the worst thing" and SAM, YOU MAGNIFICENT BASTARD, I LOVE THAT YOU ARE SO NOT DOWN WITH THIS PLAN AND NOT HIDING THAT AT ALL.
I love that Sam's attitude is yeah, I told you I'd help, so I'm helping, but it's really a stupid, stupid plan and you shouldn't do it. Dean tells him to "put the end of this trip out of your head," so I guess they are actually on their way to the coast right now, towing Dean's coffin. I wonder how they convinced Mary not to come along? (Ha ha not really, I think Mary would have said bye, love you and gone back to shooting pumpkins.)
(Sidebar: Every time I say I wonder why a certain character isn't around, several of you kindly point out that the show can't afford to have these guest stars appear in every episode, and I love you for trying, but I know the Doylist reasons; I'm looking for the Watsonian ones. And usually there are none.)
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Suitable for any occasion.
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Dean gets out and heads for the bathroom, and Sam (whose hair is adorably fluffy today) immediately goes for his phone and calls Cas and we learn that he already told Cas about the awful, awful plan (BECAUSE OF COURSE HE DID). Cas has been looking for a way to eject and destroy Michael but hasn't found anything. He reports that Rowena went through the Book of the Damned to try to find a solution, "and I told her to do it again and see if she missed something, and the woman has a remarkable command of profanity." (BECAUSE OF COURSE SHE DOES. AND IN A SCOTTISH ACCENT. I WANT TO WITNESS THAT.) Cas suggests that he could speak to Dean, as if he has more influence than Sam (NO) and Sam says it won't matter, he's never seen Dean this set on something.
Cut to Drowny Guy picking out his next victim, muttering about striking down the first born in the land of Egypt, and carving up his next victim. More voices. "I am the Lord," he says. Huh.
The Impala drives through the night. Dean is either feeling or remembering feeling Michael banging on that walk-in door in his head, so he decides it's conversation time. He starts out by apologizing for not always being the greatest brother, and I want Sam to say no, you were a great brother, you were just a crappy mother, but that's not your fault because you were four years older than me and shouldn't have been forced into a parental role. Instead Sam tells him he was always there for him. Dean continues in this vein, apologizing for taking John's side and admitting that sometimes he was gone because John actually sent him away. Sam says he left all of that behind, and then shuts Dean down by saying he needs to keep his mind off the end of this trip, just like Dean said. "So if we could not have conversations that sound like deathbed apologies, I would really appreciate it."
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Shhhh. Just pretend.
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DAMN. I know some of you are thinking Sam should be more supportive and let Dean talk, especially since he's the one who's always trying to get Dean to talk about his feelings in the first place. But I love the way he's not making this easy on Dean. And I also love that he's insisting on what HE needs, but I suspect that he's focused just as much on not letting Dean play out the Deathbed Apology Tour in his head.
Not only is he doing that, but he's actually looking for a case. And he found one. Dean's all, a case? On my Deathbed Apology Tour? And it does seem like a really odd thing for Sam to do. Unless, of course, you accept that he's stalling his little heart out. Dean decides it would be nice to work one last case together, which is a sentiment Sam does NOT appreciate. Anyway, it's our two victims, who both had "graffiti" carved into them. Enochian graffiti.
(Sidebar: Remember that time someone carved Enochian graffiti on the Impala and neither Sam nor Dean recognized it? Ha ha ha ha continuity.)
The next scene is in broad daylight and the guys are in suits. Or at least Dean is in a suit. We can't see Sam because the person whose door they're knocking on won't open it all the way. So, Dean took his suit on his Deathbed Apology Tour? And when Sam decided to run after him, he grabbed his suit as well? (Eh, it gives me Winchesters in suits and overcoats, so I'm willing to handwave it.)
The guy who finally opens the door is the twin brother of the second victim. There's a heavy-handed little scene here where the surviving brother (the younger brother, it turns out, because he's four minutes younger than his dead twin, and if that reminds you that Sam is four years younger than Dean you're not alone) talks about how close they were and how "losing him was like losing a part of myself" and Sam looks sad and Dean looks guilty. It turns out the dead brother had a super-religious friend named Tony, and a convenient picture reveals Tony had an Enochian tattoo which translates to "the word." Duh duh duuuuh! So, who else knows Enochian? Time to call Cas!
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Ah, here we go. A real one.
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Cas immediately reveals that Sam told him about the Deathbed Apology Tour because, like Sam, he has zero chill about Dean's plan. He also reveals that Tony is the next prophet in line, after Donatello. Sam doesn't make any excuses or apologize for spilling the beans, and if you haven't figured it out yet, I LOVE THAT. The guys wonder if the apparent emergence of a new prophet means Donatello is dead (spoiler alert: we see him on life support so probably not) and Dean calls his doctor, pretending to be his nephew. Using his real name. I have a feeling Sam would have done a better job, because Dean just asks "How is Donatello? He's still alive, right?" which I find funnier than I probably should. So, if he's still alive, how was Tony activated? Let's go ask him.
Apparently the guys took a long time changing out of their suits, because it's dark when they break into Tony's house. They find his bedroom covered in writing, much like Gabriel's redecorating in the bunker except some of it is English. And some of it is about the killing of first-born sons, and I think that's going to mean something for Dean, but spoiler alert: it doesn't. They also find pictures of his two victims, and a clue as to where the killings happened and what the next one will be.
The next one is actually happening right now, with a guy getting doused with gasoline. Luckily the Winchesters break in and save him right before Tony sets him on fire. Sam gets maybe a little too rough with Tony, and Dean calls him off. Tony claims he's doing God's work according to His orders and Sam's all, yeah, no, whatever you heard wasn't God. Tony immediately believes them, apparently. If I thought God was talking to me, I'd think these guys were heretics or the devil or something. But Tony believes them and gets Dean's gun and kills himself. So, I guess that one took care of itself!
But it's not over, because the next prophet could come online and do the same thing, since Donatello being between "between life and death" might be causing prophets who are "wired wrong." Sam asks how they can stop the next prophet from going loco, and, well, there's one way to get rid of someone who's between life and death, isn't there?
(Meanwhile, Nick breaks into his old house and doesn't recognize his dead wife's ghost, but I can't blame him because she's changed A LOT since she died. He hopes she's Lucifer, and somehow he sacrifices her ability to move on because he'd rather have Lucifer and that's all the time I'm spending on that.)
At the Happy Daze (ugh, really?) Nursing Home, Donatello's doctor tells his loving nephews that they're making the right choice to let him go. And luckily, Dr. Novak is here to help! Hee! The doctor tells them Uncle Donatello is occasionally babbling, just as a reflex, and I don't think actual words are a reflex but okay. Cas and Dean have a sidebar about how much Cas regrets what happened to Donatello, but he had no choice, and Dean's all, I know exactly how you feel, and Cas is all, no you don't, because MY plan was the only choice, but YOUR plan is stupid.
Sam interrupts this with a video the doctor took of Donatello's "reflexive babbling." It's actually him speaking Enochian, saying he'll strike down the first-born of Egypt. Apparently Tony got wrapped up in Donatello trying to rewrite the Bible or whatever (Buckleming!) but somehow this means Cas can fix him, because "if there's a spark of hope, then I have to try; you taught me that." Boom. Take that, Mr. Deathbed Apology Tour. (Although I think Sam would have had something to do with that lesson, but whatever.) They rudely kick the doctor out of Donatello's room, and while Cas does his work, Sam and Dean have a quiet talk.
"If Cas isn't right about Donatello," Sam says, "then where does that leave him? Trapped. Trapped in his own body, somewhere between life and death. It's just tough to think about somebody going through that." Oh my God, Sam, you are the least subtle person on earth and I can't get enough of it. Dean doesn't rise to the bait, but just tells Sam the plan is still on. Then they go check on Cas and watch him work. His eyes go glowy and Donatello wakes up, confused but alive.
The real doctor comes in and says wow, that's weird that you came here to take him off life support and he miraculously came out of his coma. No, he doesn't, but I would. Then Donatello eats Jello and Dean leaves Cas to tell him what he's missed.
Dean goes out to where Sam is leaning on the Impala, drinking beer. And Sam is SO angry. (Sidebar: What was Dean remembering when he said Sam was always a "happy drunk," because it's nothing we've seen.)
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Don’t open that shaken-up beer, Dean.
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Let's just enjoy this conversation, shall we?
Where's the party?
It's right here. I mean, we're celebrating, right?
Okay...
Yeah, but not too much! Tomorrow morning we're back on track. No rest for the self-destructive.
Well, I will call this a win. Kinda nice. I'm going out on a high.
"Going out" being the operative phrase.
I'm sorry.
You're sorry. {laughs} How sorry are you? Sorry that you planned to keep Donatello alive, but when it comes to you, you just throw in the towel? Are you sorry that after all these years, our entire lives, after I looked up to you, I learned from you, I copied you, I followed you to Hell and back? Are you sorry that all of that means nothing now?
Who's saying that?
You. When you tell me I have to kill you. When you're telling me I have to throw away everything we stand for. Throw away faith. Throw away family. We're the guys who saved the world. We don't just check out of it.
Sam, I have tried everything. Everything! I got one card left to play, and I have to play it.
You have one card today. But we'll find another tomorrow. But if you quit on us today, there will be no tomorrow! You tell me you don't know what else to do. I don't either, Dean. Not yet. But what you're doing now, it's wrong! It's quitting! I mean, look what just happened. Donatello never quit fighting, so we could help him because he never gave up. I believe in us, Dean. {Sam rears back and HITS DEAN!} I believe in us! {Sam HITS HIM AGAIN AND THEN PULLS HIM INTO AN ANGRY, TEARFUL HUG!} Why don't you believe in us too?
I'M DEAD. I CANNOT HANDLE THIS.
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YES, this is the real thing.
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Dean can’t handle it either. He's only human. "Okay, Sam," he says. "Let's go home." Sam says "what?" in disbelief. HE IS STILL CLUTCHING HIS BROTHER IN HIS ARMS, BY THE WAY. Sam finally pulls away and Dean says "Let's go home. Maybe Billie's wrong. Maybe. But I do believe in us. I believe in all of us." (Because yeah, this is when Cas shows up.) "And I'll keep believing until I can't. Until there's absolutely no other way. But when that day comes, if that day comes, Sam, you have to take it for what it is. The end. And you have to promise me that you'll do then what you can't do now, and that's let me go. And put me in that box."
Sam says "all right," just like he did at the end of the previous episode but DAMN this one is different. Dean PATS SAM'S FACE and says "Don't hit me again, okay?" EXCUSE ME CAN SOMEONE SCOOP UP THAT PUDDLE OF GOO ON THE FLOOR, BECAUSE IT'S ME. And I don't know how Cas got to the Happy Daze Nursing Home, but whatever he drove, he's leaving it here. He gets in the car with the Winchesters and we fade to white.
WELL.
I don't know about you guys, but I had pretty low expectations for this episode. And some of it met those low expectations (lookin' at you, Nick) but some of it BLEW ME THE FUCK AWAY. And by "some" I mean SAM AND SAM AND DEAN AND SAM. Because Sam loves his brother SO MUCH and is SO ANGRY and HURT and BETRAYED and Dean is SO HELPLESS in the face of that anger and hurt and betrayal and he's thinking I thought it was safe to tell you I loved you, since I was about to die, but you are using that against me and it's hardly fair and then he's doing what he can't always do when his little brother wants something, which is GIVE IT TO HIM.
I'm trying to think of other times when Sam hit Dean out of anger. Not in a mutual fight, not when he was trying to stop him from doing something stupid then and there, not when he was under someone else's control, just Sam lashing out in hurt and anger and hitting his brother. The only one I can think of is the hotel room fight in When The Levee Breaks, but I'm sure y'all will remind me of others, as you do.
Dammit. This is one of those episodes where a few minutes of wonderful makes up for a whole lot of nonsense. What did you guys think? And as always, help me stay unspoiled, please!
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sophisticateddesign · 5 years
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Afternoon Delight
INVOLVED: Mercedes Jones, Titus Wilkerson LOCATION: Mercedes Atlanta Home. TIME FRAME: Janurary 7 NOTES: n/a AUTHOR’S NOTE: n/a
Mercedes smiled as she approached her driveway. Titus’ bald head gleamed as it reflected the setting sun.  Four thirty and already dust were settling over the neighborhood.  She clicked the opener and the garage door sprang into motion smoothly.  She entered the space effortlessly, shutting off the Jaguar. “Hey.” She waved, then turned to collect her purse and briefcase from the passenger seat.
Titus sauntered to the driver side door, immediately and took the handle opening it.  Lazily, he offered her his hand, “I was just about to leave." He said helping her from the car. " How dare you make me wait on you?” He chastised, spreading his fingers out over his chest imperiously. The last breath of wind made his scarf stir, as the garage door closed quietly behind him. Shutting out the last dying rays of sunlight.  
Mercedes took the man’s hand and slipped from the car.  She rolled her eyes the moment she was on her feet. “Please.” she said, pursing her lips hard. The man knew where the hide-a-key was.  Not only that, she had given him a spare key to her home years ago.
“Don’t be cute. I expect curb side service.” Titus chuckled.  “I just got here actually.” he told her, with a dismissive wave.  “I left work early enough to beat the traffic. When I said I’d meet you at your house this afternoon I really didn’t think it through.” He said, shaking his head, painful thoughts of rush hour Atlanta traffic causing him to shiver in disgust.
Mercedes stepped away from the car and pushed the door closed, giggling.  She moved listening to him chatter as she entered the house. She continued down the small entry hall and dropped her burdens on the love seat, once she entered the den slipping out of her shoes. “I know you love me. When are you going to accept it?” She asked playfully as she walked over to switch on the lights.  
Titus followed the woman, sighing as he entered her home. “I don’t deny it.” Titus said, pulling himself from his horrific thoughts. “I may loathe the idea, but it must be true.” He smiled good naturedly winking as he spoke.  The home was immaculate as usual, and he moved towards the living room which happened to be his favorite area. “So…” He raised his voice. “Dominic finally wants a relationship?”
Mercedes rubbed her stomach. She walked into the kitchen, hungry.  Dinner with Dominic was a few hours away yet. And the baby didn’t seem to want to wait that long. She opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water. “Yes.” She returned with a sigh, closing the refrigerator’s door.  She twisted off the bottle cap and drank as she moved to take a box of Vanilla Wafers from the pantry.  “Is it wrong that I’m considering saying yes?”
Titus turned on the Christmas tree once he entered the living room, “Me and Charles are going to come over this weekend and help you take all this down. -And Hell Yes! You are wrong.” He said in a stern matter of fact tone. “Why the change of heart suddenly. He has already received his Christmas thank you.  A relationship seems redundant.” He scanned the room with a more than critical eye, then spun heading up the stairs.
Mercedes opened the box and began to pop cookies into her mouth.  The one thing good about being pregnant was no guilt. She could over indulge in snacks all she wanted. “Thanks. After all you did make me put all this stuff up.“ She glanced around, garland and stockings decorated the fireplace here in the den. With a healthy smattering of mistletoe, nutcrackers and bulbs placed around to give the entire downstairs a holiday feel. She was a designer, what could she do.  Once she got started, she had to finish.  She crunched on the wafer, rolling her eyes as Titus’ expected retort came.  She shrugged, “Don’t you think it’s time for me to settle down?  I already know the sex is great with Dom.” She said thoughtfully, “He is ready to commit something I never thought he would be.  He has a great job and he’s fine. I’d be a fool to just dismiss him.” She could hear Titus ascending the stairs.  Picking up the box she followed, eating as she moved.
Titus pushed the nursery door open and raised his eyebrow stepping into the room. Aside from the paint cans sitting on the floor, the space was empty. His frown deepened as his steps carried him to the closet. He opened the door, noting the leather baby bag on the top shelf.  Outside of that, there were diapers, and a few sets of white onesies hanging in the closet. Hand going to his hip he closed the door, again he spun to leave the room.
Mercedes frowned as she stood in the doorway of the baby’s room looking at Titus. She watched the bald man snoop, then sighed as she told him what she’d done. ”I sent it all back.” She said averting her eyes.  
Titus stopped short as Mercedes appeared in the doorway. So intent on his quest, he hadn’t heard the woman approach.  As she spoke, his mouth dropped.  He squinted, “All of it?” He asked in a rush, “even the check?” he said, voice a strangled yell.
Mercedes stepped back covering her ear as the man’s screeched. Voice so high pitched it was almost out of human register. Even as her ears rang, she shook her head, “Yes. It was a pride thing.”
“You sent back a two-million-dollar check?!” Titus pronounce each syllable as if each letter were a lash. “You got fifty acres and a whole horse, and you just sent it back?!” His hand went to his head, he stumbled knees weak.  “I need to lay down.” He said pushing past her.  He moved into her room and collapsed onto the bed.   “Pride? Pride?” He repeated.  “You had the check? Who gives a damn about pride?” He whined, breath coming in pants, “You had the bag.  THE Gucci baby bag!”
Mercedes followed the man slowly, leaning against the door frame to her room as he fell dramatically bouncing slightly as he hit the pillow top mattress.  “This is why I didn’t say anything to you.” She said, finally stepping across the threshold entering her room. She placed the box of cookies and the water on her bedside table.  “You don’t understand?” She still felt a pinch of guilt for sending the items back. The issue was, she didn’t know if it was pride or spitefulness that drove her reaction. Either way, her conviction was renewed as thoughts of him confronting her again, stoked the dying flames of her anger.  She moved into her closet, to select and outfit for tonight.  She had very few things that she could wear and be what she would consider ‘sexy.’  She shoved the dresses to one side and huffed as she went through them one by one.
Titus sat up. “Then explain it to me. Slowly.  Because I don’t have a clue how or why this makes any sense. What has pride to do with anything. The money -the gifts were for the baby. -To make life easier.” He fell back against the bed hand going over his head again.
Mercedes stepped out of the closet, a mustard colored ribbed dress in hand. “This one?” She asked, holding it up around her. “It’s not really my style, but maybe with the proper accessories...” She mused, “It does make my ass look fabulous.” At his plea she sighed, finding the man on the bed in the mirror, she shook her head, “I…” She started then took another approach, “It’s done. There is no use crying over spilt milk.  Isn’t that what you always tell me?”
Titus looked at her from his spot on the bed moving only his eyes. He frowned at her selection.  “No, try again.” He told her flat out. “Now you want to listen to me?” He said with a halfhearted laugh. “Honey, when the milk is laced with gold. You cry over it!” He snapped.  Getting up from the bed, he marched into her closet and shifted through her dresses. He pulled out a blush pink off the should dress and stuck his arm out of the closet shaking it at her, “This one.”  He stuck his head out briefly looking her over again. “I like what you’ve done with your hair.” he said, working on autopilot, he moved back into the closet to select shoes. “You are a businesswoman.  That money, those gifts they meant something. Aren’t you worried about pissing that man off.” He scanned the large rack of shoes, before selecting a Cinderella inspired pair of slingback, open toed shoes.  “This is no time to be petty Mercedes.  Pregnancy does not excuse poor judgment. You are not carrying an oops baby. You can’t afford to start acting on pure emotion now.”  He sat the shoes down by her feet and regarded her in the mirror critically.
Mercedes sucked her teeth and continued to smooth the dress she’d selected. “It’s not bad.” She rolled her eyes, “I always listen to you. Most of the time. Regardless.  It’s done.” She took the dress from Titus, nodding. She touched her hair, “Thanks. I want something a little different.”   She’d thought about wearing it, but it almost seemed… too special for Dominic.  She grimaced as the thought took root.  This was the man she was seriously considering dating. So why was this dress too good for him? She pushed that thought away, zeroing in on what Titus was saying. “Lord, I did it because I don’t want the waters muddied.  It would be far too easy for the baby’s father to believe I was in it for the money.  It’s a complicated situation enough situation without that.   I don’t want anyone feeling that I can be controlled because of a few dollars.” She finally said, glad that her argument didn’t sound like complete crap.  She meant what she was saying after a fashion. “He came over T. After I sent the gifts back. It was the texts all over again.” She said, solemnly. “But in real time” She chuckled,” He must have been extremely pissed off he drove himself.” She said thoughtfully. “And by the time he left… If a look could kill, I would have been dead.” She shook her head, “I still don’t believe he’ll take the baby.  Not really.” She looked to Titus standing beside her in the mirror. “This works…” she said after a moment.
Titus’ hand went to his hip and he stared at the woman squinting. “Is this man, a member of the mob?  What do you mean he drove himself?  Does he not?” He snapped, “Who that hell is this man Mercedes?” He stepped away from her pacing, “I would have been upset with you too.  Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t really care for his tone in those text messages. But you have to admit, that was one hell of an apology he gave you.” He stopped and just stared at the woman in wonder.  “And now you are seriously considering dating Dominic to boot. Child, that baby seriously has fried your brain cells.”  
Mercedes shook her head, sucking her teeth. “No. I’ll tell you who he is. But later.” She said looking at the clock.  “I really need to get ready to go.  I’m meeting Dominic at 8.” She moved to stand in front of Titus, touching his arm, “Don’t be upset with me.  I am using my head. I promise you.” She said the words with such a sincere expression.   You would have actually believed she was telling the truth.
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