“That’s my baby,” Bebe says, locking the door behind us. “Tallulah is almost four.”
I look at the long dark haired girl. “She’s beautiful.”
Her anxiety easing away, Bebe smiles. “You just moved to Little Memphis, right?”
“Yeah,” I say, standing by the mini-fridge. “Do you need anything?”
“Not really. Well, adult companionship would be nice.”
I sit into a nearby chair. “How long have you worked here?”
“A year,” Bebe says, turning off the overhead light. She sits on the bed and her daughter crawls next to her. “Lula’s dad paid the bills until he went to prison. I moved in with Perri and Flora who work at night. We watch each other’s kids. Normally, it’s easy peasy, but not always like tonight.”
I want to ask why she lives with two prostitutes. The question will sound judgmental. Besides, those two prostitutes are moms to the small children. Before I say anything rude or stupid, my phone vibrates in my pocket.
Seeing Ford’s number, I answer with, “Still alive.”
“I’m doing you doggy-style in just a few hours, darling. I hope you’re ready to wiggle your ass for me.”
“Sorry. Wrong number,” I say then hang up.
I’m giggling like a nerd when my gaze meets Bebe’s.
“Boyfriend?”
“I don’t know if the boyfriend label applies. More like a guy I spent one night with.”
“What’s his name?” she asks, giving me a curious grin.
Around us, the kids’ squirming slows as they doze. Peeking at the toddler in the crib, I find him asleep with his thumb stuck in his little mouth. Most of my life, I spent fearing babies, knowing they could ruin a woman’s life. Of course, my fears came from years of my grandma warning me not to turn out like my mom. Now I imagine having a kid of my own before shutting down the dream the second I consider the baby daddy.
“Ford Reed,” I mumble, still watching the sleeping baby. When I look back at Bebe, she’s playing with Lula’s hair and studying me. “What? Do you know him?”
Assuming she’s one of his many conquests, I’m relieved when Bebe shakes her head. “I’ve heard of him and his brother. Most people in Little Memphis know to stay out of their way. They work for Trigger and the club. Lula’s dad worked for them too before he went to jail.”
“I don’t know anything about the club. Nothing important anyway. Ford’s been good to me. Like he handled a guy that bothered me one night. Even knowing Ford isn’t boyfriend material, I can’t complain about anything. He’s also really good in bed.”
I feel like a douche to talk sex in front of the kids. Noticing my embarrassment, Bebe grins.
“No worries. They’re sleeping and they wouldn’t get F U C K talk anyway.”
“Have you lived in Little Memphis your whole life?” I ask.
“No. I lived with my weird A S S uncle as a teenager then came back to take care of my mom when she got sick. I F U C K E D up by being with a guy like Howie, but I don’t regret having Lula. After he went to prison, I decided to stay in Little Memphis because I didn’t know where else to go.”
“Is your mom still around?”
Bebe shakes her head. “She lived a painful F U C K I N G life. Death was a relief.”
A quiet melancholy comes over the hotel room while Calilou plays and the children sleep. I think to ask why Bebe spells her cuss words and if she thinks I should too. At least in front of the kids. I doubt I’ll remember to do it though, so I don’t ask.
“My housemates are good moms,” Bebe says after a while. “Jeff probably told you what they do and you probably think that makes them bad moms, but they’re not. They’re good F U C K I N G people, but that work is all they know. It’s what their moms did. Aunts and sisters too. It runs in their family. Mine too.”
She holds my gaze, daring me to react. I want Bebe to like me, but I don’t like being challenged.
“I used to strip. Shit happens.”
Bebe gives me a little grin. “I make so much less than my housemates. If I followed in the family business, I could work a few nights a week and make twice as much as I do now.” She looks down at her daughter asleep on her lap. “The money might be better, but I don’t want Lula to make her money that way, so I’ll clean F U C K I N G toilets.”
“My grandparents were better off than my mom turned out. I always heard each generation is supposed to improve on the last one. The Thompsons didn’t do that. Most of the people in my family seem to have taken a step back. All I can do is try to move forward and not make their mistakes. It’s all you can do too. Besides, there’s no shame in cleaning toilets. People are so happy when they walk into a clean room. You do that for them. I just hand them a keycard.”
“Yeah, I bring F U C K I N G sunshine into people’s lives.”