“Is only when you want something mi hear yuh call mi like dat,” he mutters, but he’s smiling.
“But mi wah use your phone,” she pouts.
“My storage full. Use Zara camera.” I already got her covered. Once we’re outside, I don’t play about the pics. My digital cam been charged and ready. I pass it to her, and we take turns snapping pics. I even send one to Nickoi. Then I catch myself biting my lip and instantly feel dumb.Girl, relax. The man is two hours away and you over here acting up.Why am I like this?
“Mi affi beg smaddy now,” Gavin says, looking around. “Mi want one wid all a we before wi order the food.”
“Leave that to me,” Sash beams, catching the attention of a guy walking by. He stops. No hesitation. He’s giving… neat.Put together, work shirt still tucked, tie still straight. Corporate vibes.
Once upon a time,my subconscious starts,Zara liked men like this. Then a Don swept her off her feet and now she only responds to romantic niggas with a likkle romace.I almost laugh. She’s not wrong. Nickoi messed me up, in the best way. I used to be into clean, good-guy energy. Now? I like my men with guns and a little unhinged.
“ZARA,” Gavin calls, dragging me out my head. They’re all staring at me. I blink.
“You good?”
I nod, trying not to look as spaced out as I feel. “Yeah. I zoned out for a sec.” The stranger takes our picture. We pose, smile, laugh like nothing happened.
“Nice,” he says after. That’s it? Just nice? Nickoi would’ve flirted, complimented, maybe whispered something in my ear to make me blush. With him, it’s always butterflies, even over text. I glance at the guy again. Yeah… this ain’t it.
“You ready to go sit down and order?” Sash asks, bouncing on her heels. She’s already tired.
“Yeah, let’s eat.”
“Then come mek we go order and done wid wi likkle bit a money,” Gavin jokes, grabbing our hands.
NICKOI
Nothing like a good ol’ pop-up from Manuel, Gutta’s uncle. Every time he rolls through town, he brings the kind of herb that makes you forget all your worries, that high grade stuff only true connoisseurs recognize. And I’m always waiting for that knock on the door, knowing Manuel will come through. “Wickedhigh grade dis the I bring fi yuh, enuh,” Manuel says with that familiar grin. I chuckle, sniffing the bag.
“Yeah, it strong, man,” I say, impressed.
Manuel laughs. “Mi nuh tell yuh man, a only strong herbs the I deal wid enuh.”
Gutta’s already puffing, not wasting any time. “Dat is it,” he says between drags.
I eye the bag.
“How much yuh wah fi the whole bag?” I ask, lifting it carefully. It looks like a couple weeks’ supply easily, but knowing how fast mi smoke, mi can bun this off inna 3 days.
Manuel shakes his head. “No mon, a me plant di herbs, enuh. None a dat fi sale. Member seh a love enuh King. Yuh nuh affi gi Rasta no paper or coin.” Still, I reach for my wallet. I don’t carry cash often, cards are my go-to, but this is different.
“Ah,” I say, pulling out a stack and handing it over. Manuel looks surprised but I smile. “A nuh payment fi the weed, man. Just a likkle appreciation.” He hesitates, then laughs warmly.
Just then, Mommy walks in. “Which part you say the baby clothes dem deh?” I snap my head toward her. Her eyes dart immediately to Gutta and Manuel.
“Sorry, mi never see unuh. Good evening,” she says with an apologetic smile. I stand, heading to my room where the twins are playing in their crib. The moment I walk in, their eyes lock onto me, wide, alert like tiny spies carefully watching my every move. It’s like they know, somehow, that I’m about to leave, and they’re holding me hostage with their innocent stare. Zahira’s fingers twitch at the edge of the crib, and Zahir’s eyes are fixed on me, full of silent questions only a baby can ask. Impossible not to feel that pull.
“Unuh nuh take breaks, doh?” I smirk, closing the door softly behind me. I go over to their closet, pulling out clothes and laying them on the bed.
“Nick,” Mommy calls from behind me, holding my phone. I turn and take it from her. Without even checking the caller ID, I answer, and Zara’s voice fills the room.
“Babe,” she says softly. Why she sound like that?
“You good?” I ask.
“Yes, babe. We reach safe. Sor—” Why she a apologize?
“Mami dat gov,” I say, resting the phone on the dresser. She’s talking to the server downstairs while I get ready. The gang is at Rick’s place. Mi o’ see wah dem deh pan.Gwan go bang di line too mi killa,my subconscious says. I had the phones in my car. I kiss the babies’ foreheads. Zahir stretches his arm out, and I laugh when Zahira tries to hold him back. It’s impossible not to laugh.
