Black Moms Be Like Vine Novels & Stories

Vindell’s POV “Vin… there’s a man here who claims to be your very good friend,” Mom said. Then I heard a familiar voice from the background. “Mr. Vindell… how are you? I’ve been trying to reach you but it’s not going through?” Mr. Blackwood spoke. my eyes widened in absolute disbelief. “Mom… please give him the phone.” A second later, he came on the line. “Mr. Blackwood, what do you think you are doing?”

Warren sounded like a parent. “Fine,” Melanie Vandal said in mock anger. “I could sing.” “No, you can’t. I don’t want to hear a fractured song,” the smartphone flew from Warren's hand and he chose a video of his mother singing. “This got ten thousand views on Youtube,” Warren cleared his throat and read some of the comments, “Is your mom a comedian, if so I would pay to hear that act again. She knows the words right? My favorite is Chip the baby one more time.”

Given the fact that my mum was in a serious near death experience twelve hours ago, she’s looking amazingly well. “Just typical, isn’t it?” She mutters as she grabs another peanut m&m. “Everyone in the real housewives has a hot tub and none of theirs houses burned down.” Dani just smiles and offers me an m&m. “No thank you,” I shake my head. “But then I suppose they had the real thing and wasn’t swimming around in a discarded birthing pool.”

No pretense, no fear of repercussion, no judgment, just love. I couldn’t believe she had just called me “Mama.” I would have jumped for joy but after the work day I'd had, it was much too perfect. We sat like that for a long time, letting the quiet wrap around us, letting her heartbeat calm the one in mine. And then, as I scrolled through my phone, I noticed something extraordinary. The video had already begun circulating online. Parents, friends, even strangers were sharing it. Comments flooded in: “This is what motherhood looks like.” “A brave little girl standing up for the woman who gave her love.” “Celeste Sinclair is a hero.”

Revti aunty demanded as we talked in phone call. "Is that something to ask? Ofcourse i will come before a month." I reply back. "Is everyone fine there?" "Everyone, except me, are well and good." I can imagine her pout. "You know this Vansh, he literally plays on my nerves. 'Mom don't you think we should make a theme of red. Oh no, blue is good...well, purple is also good'. He is more excited for Harini's wedding then Harini herself."

Beside her, Mom slammed a glass onto the table. "Haven't you had enough? So what if you really scored over 1,350? That doesn't mean your life would be any better after university. If anything, it was better for you to get out into the world early and toughen up! "You were so shy when you were little. And now look at you, talking back and arguing with your own mother. Isn't that proof you needed to get out there?" I honestly couldn't believe those words were coming out of her mouth.

Amara’s POV After breakfast, Blake's mother and I excuse ourselves from the table to go shopping. Blake is persistent about me getting more clothes and building up my workout collection. Of course, Blake was not going to let us go without an escort. Even though I would much rather just shop with myself and his mother to stay under the radar, us ladies load ourselves into the all-black SUV. As we drive through the bustling streets, I can't help but feel a sense of excitement mixed with apprehension. Blake's mother reassures me that this is an opportunity to relax and enjoy ourselves, despite the ever-present need for caution. The SUV glides smoothly, and I take a deep breath, ready to make th

She got me there she was right in every aspect of her words. I needed to talk to my mom about this and I just didn’t know how. “Mom I’m a Virgin” “Oh I know Scarlet, u kind of make it obvious”. I was again baffled and hurt by her comment. I couldn’t help but wonder. Did Ash catch onto that too? “How’d you know?” “Well, for starters, you are far too proper.” “Never thought that would be a complaint from my mom” “No it wouldn’t be if we weren’t talking about your mate who will be marking you in 6 days.”

Mom roared as she kicked and hit Yvonne relentlessly, ignoring all of her attempts to explain. I watched as Yvonne crouched on the ground, her face twisted in pain and wailing in agony. Gradually, that face overlapped with my memories. Whenever Mom scolded me in the past, Yvonne would always stand by, making sarcastic remarks. No matter what Mom said, Yvonne would chime in and echo her words. Half of the malicious gossip in the neighborhood came from their conversations at the card table. That was why, when I thought of seeking revenge, Yvonne was the first person to come to mind.