The Beautiful Aftermath

(VII) Nikki Waiting

     "Evicted? What are you talking about?"

"She wants me out before she gets back home tomorrow."

"What happened?"

"Richard happened."

"Richard? Richie?"

"Yeah. He..." Prince muffled the mouthpiece and said something inaudible. "Hold on, Kat." I could hear movement; I could hear his footsteps as went somewhere less distracting. A door creaked open and shut. "Hello?"

"What does Richie have to do with this?"

"Does he always open your mail?"

"He told Lula about the letter?"

"He read it to her. Then faxed over a damn copy of it."

"A copy?! P, I'm so sorry."

"For what? Marrying an asshole?"

I couldn't believe Richie. The man I married would've never done something like this. What the fuck was his problem? "Because now she's obviously thinking you were cheating on her or something and she's trying to use that to separate you from the girls."

With a small laugh, Prince told me she wasn't. "I have a lot to pack. But I needed to talk to you first."

I knew when P made the decision to rebuild his house, his plan was to bring the girls with him. But I never imagined Lula would let them go without a fight. "So she's just letting you pack up their life and move them to another country?"

"She don't want this. It was never in her plans to be a mother. She knows what's best for them and she knows I would never leave this house without them anyway."

"So, you're coming straight here? Well, back home?"

"No. I have to get a few things in order first before I move them permanently to Minnesota."

"When will the house be ready?"

"July."

"So you need a place to stay?"

"What?"

"Until it's done. You can't cramp them in the apartment at Paisley Park."

"Cramp?"

"You know what I mean." The living quarters of the complex wasn't small so maybe "cramp" wasn't the best word. But it was like one, large studio apartment. It just wasn't ideal for a parent and three babies in my opinion. "You know you can stay with me."

"Umm..."

I understood the hesitance, especially under his current circumstances, but I would never just toss him and his daughters out like that. "I get it. But you know-"

"No, no," he said, "it's not that. It's just..."

"What?"

"I'm still not sure how to even tell you this."

"Tell me what?"

"That..."

Heart in my throat, I just waited for him to say it. But then the mood suddenly intensified when I heard banging on his door.

He forced out a heavy breath. "Hold on."

"Prince?"

It was that lady—I think. I couldn't understand what she was saying. All I caught was P asking her if she had a bigger box and if the movers were there yet. I could hear the front he was putting up at first but then there was rough "What you say?" And after that, his voice went distant and I didn't hear anything.