Un-intended

Un-intended: chapter four

My grandmother always told me, there were three types of people in this world. The ones who worked hard for everything they got, the ones who accept the bare minimum, and the ones who get everything handed to them.

I always wondered where I fell in between those lines. I didn't grow up in poverty, but my parents weren't the richest.

When I was in the third grade, I wanted a pair of light-up shoes that twinkled when I walk. Of course, that cost money and I didn't do anything exciting to earn it. So I made deal with my parents. I cleaned the house from top to bottom just for those pair of shoes.

That being said, it always amazes me how different values each family holds.

My parents never handed me things. I mean they gave me things, but I had to put in a little work to get them.

For the longest, I wondered why. Why did I have to go the extra mile to obtain something arm's reach away? I found the answer when I first opened the bakery.

It was a struggle and it took many sleepless nights, but I did it. Without any help from my parents or sister or friends. I did it on my own. I knew why my parents made me clean the house for a pair of shoes. They taught me how to fight. How to work for everything I wanted even if there was a shortcut.

Now the possibility of losing my bakery felt like the world was ending. My world. My parents prepared me for working for the things that I want, but not the fact that it could fail.

"So. Did you text baby daddy back?" Jorja questioned while eating a fry.

I shook my head.

"No. I've just been swamped with things."

"Like?"

"The bakery and stuff," I mumbled. "I'll text him back today, okay?"

"Whenever you feel comfy, don't feel pressured." Jorja nodded. "But, one thing I will press you on is getting to a doctor. It's been a week since you found out. We need to get you vitamins."

"Right. I'll look for some doctors."

"I'm done munching on these fries. I'm sure the waitress wants us out. Ready to go?" Jorja questioned. I nodded while grabbing my purse.

We walked out of the restaurant, joining the busy streets of New York.

"Ugh. She's so beautiful." Jorja smiled while looking up at the billboard. "I want to take one of her master classes but it's so hard to get into. Everyone wants to paint I guess."

"Who's that?"

"Athena Landon, girl be more cultured." Jorja giggled while looping her arms with me. "So this is what I'm thinking."

"Yes?"

"If it's a girl, we can name it Jorja, and if it's a boy, Jorge." She smiled.

"I'll keep that noted." I giggled. "Thank you, for being here for me Jorja. I can say, you've been the only one who's not cussing me out every second."

"Your sister means well, she just doesn't know how to express it."

"Yeah, but she's never been this mean to me."

My phone buzzed.

"Oh shit. My mom." I answered while placing it on speaker. "Hi!"

"Sunny. You didn't think it would be important to tell me?" Her mom questioned. "I had to find out from your sister!"

My eyes widened. "Huh?"

"Don't play coy, you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"I don't?"