sure about mold and move from there."
"Fair enough."
She felt better having been somewhat diagnosed. By the time she made it to the lobby, the doctor had suggested she go on antibiotics as a precaution.
On the drive from the doctor’s office, Persha tried to make sense of everything the doctor had just informed her about. But before she could even think straight, she needed to get home, grab a few things, and get out of there before she got any worse.
A few evenings later, Persha sat waiting for Clarke to show up at her hotel room. She had rented a room at the Marriott near highway 59. When he finally knocked on the door, she was eager to spill her story.
"Did the doctor fix my baby?" Clarke asked as he strolled in, kissed her cheek, and dropped his bag on the couch.
When she closed the door, Persha leaned up against it.
"Uh-oh Shorty, is the news that bad?" He grinned.
Persha didn't feel up for his witty remarks. Finally, she sauntered into the room and turned to Clarke who already had the remote in his hand.
"Well, actually, Clarke, I was diagnosed with mold poisoning. My house and everything in it may have to be condemned."
"What the hell?" he screamed and jumped back in his seat.
"That's not even the worse part of it. Not only have I been walking around here looking like death warmed over, but now all I have to my name are the clothes on my back, two outfits that were at the cleaners, and no place to lay my head."
Clarke's brows cocked upward as he took in the information.
"I don't have a place to live Clarke," Persha contined as she started crying. "What the hell am I going to do?" she screamed.
"You can't go back home, like in a week? Can't you stay with Kori or Cricket?" She shook her head to answer his question. "You know Kori shares a room, and Cricket is taking care of her sick aunt."
He reached for her. "Come here. We can work this out."
In the comfort of his arms, for a flash second, she felt some kind of hope, almost like things were really going to be okay.
"When do you check out of this room?" he asked.
"Friday. Then I have to move, and I don't know where I'm gonna go. I haven't even told my mother. I don't want her worrying out there. Her solution is always for me to come home."
"Nah, Shorty, you can't go back to Nevada. I mean, you can't just leave a brotha hanging. Don't worry about it, we'll figure something out."
"I wish I could be as confident as you." Persha blew out a breath and eased back into the sofa.
"Shorty, let your man handle this. Hey, I'm here to take care of you, right?"
Though she was reluctant, she nodded anyway. Persha wanted desperately to believe the answers to all of her problems truly lie in his eyes. A part of her was glad he even offered to help. She figured maybe things really would be okay. She was starting to feel better, and knowing Clarke would help, she was okay.
By Thursday evening, Persha had gone back to worrying again. It had been two days since she last spoke to Clarke. She had less than 24 hours left in the room, and her money was running out fast.
She didn't even feel like going through the motions with Kori and Cricket. She could just hear them now, sounding off about what she should and shouldn’t do. So far, Clarke was the only one who knew her predicament, and she wanted to keep it that way until she knew her next move.
When her cell phone rang she silently prayed it would be Clarke on the other end. Instead, when Kori's voice rang out, she could no longer hold in her frustration.
"Gurrrrrl, what's wrong? You need me to come over?" Kori asked.
"No, you can't. Besides, I'm fine," Persha managed through sobs.
"I can't? Why not? And if you're so fine, then why are you crying? And how come you not answering your phone? And what’s up with you anyway? And where you been?" Kori rattled off.
"I don't even want to get into it."
"Nah uh, I'm coming over right now! You at home?"
"Wait, Kori. You really can't come over. I'm not at home. I've had
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