Symphony ended the call. She didn’t mind doing anything for anyone especially when she loved them. However, lately, she’d been everyone’s go to when they needed something. For once, she wanted to be able to go to someone. That seemed like wishful thinking, however.
Brazil sat on his couch and went through the mountain of mail he’d pulled from the box. He had been traveling for the past few weeks and even when he was at home, the mail wasn’t on his mind. Brazil’s mother started him in soccer when he was five. At first, he hated it, but he was a natural. As he got older, most of the kids that played soccer didn’t look like him which made it even less fun. None of his friends nor his siblings played soccer or wanted to learn. Just when he was about to stop playing, he saw a Jamaican team playing what they called football but, in the states, it was soccer.
Never in a million years did he think he would go pro, but he opted not to quit after seeing men that looked like him playing the sport. Soccer came natural to him. When Brazil really began to take it seriously, he put in the work but prior to that, he didn’t even have to try too hard to outshine the other players. His father told him to make it something big. Block had followed in his footsteps, but it wasn’t what Tech wanted for his kids. He held his head high and did his time like a man but giving the state twelve years of his life was some bullshit. He wanted better for his children.
Brazil’s doorbell rang, and he grunted because he didn’t want to get up so soon after getting comfortable. He was tired and looking forward to a day of rest before he was back at it. His next game was in Minnesota. At 6’3 and well over two hundred pounds of muscle, most people assumed Brazil played football. He was indeed a beast on the field but not in the sport that most assumed. His caramel skin had turned to a bronze hue from playing outside in the sun. His hair was cut low and beard thick. Tech and his sons were easy on the eyes.
Brazil opened the door to find a short, dorky, looking white guy on the other side. His brows rose as he eyed the manila folder in the man’s hands. “Brazil Thornton?”
“Yes.”
“I have some certified mail here for you. I just need your signature.”
“Okay.”
He wasn’t sure what it could be, but he scribbled his signature on the pad and took the envelope from the courier. Brazil sat back down and opened the envelope. His eyes narrowed as he took in the words on the document. It was a request from a lawyer representing someone named Giavanna Lowery. She was claiming to have custody of a three-week-old child by the name of Unique. Giavanna had custody of the childbecause the child’s mother, Kera Johnson was deceased. They were requesting that he take a test to prove paternity for the child.
Brazil’s heart drummed in his chest. Kera. He remembered her. Barely. She was a dancer. He met her in the club and had sex with her the same night he met her. He had sex with her two more times after that night and the last time, he was so fucked up that he barely remembered the events from the night, but he knew he’d worn a condom.
“Fuck,” Brazil hissed as he read over the paper for the second time. “Deceased?” he read the word with confusion lacing his tone. “Man, what the fuck?”
Brazil’s eyes skimmed over the words again and again before he finally placed the letter on the coffee table. “Fuckkk,” he repeated while running a hand over his waves.
He wasn’t sure who Giavanna was or why she had the little girl, but how was Kera dead? If he was in fact the father, what could he do with a newborn with the way he traveled? After what happened to their father, and even before that, their mother didn’t condone Block’s hustling. She refused to take money from him, so it wasn’t until Brazil and Lethal made it that she allowed them to retire her. Since she didn’t work, and she liked to stay busy, he knew his mother would help but still… She was in her fifties and had raised three children. He didn’t want to put that on her.
“Three weeks old?” he stated in disbelief. Him and Block had literally just been in Miami clowning Lethal for being sensitive to smells. They kept insisting that he had someone pregnant, and the whole time, Brazil could have a child himself.
“This can’t be happening.” Brazil was so stressed; he was talking to himself. Unless a baby was born premature, most people had nine months to prepare for a child.
If Unique turned out to be his, he didn’t know what would be expected of him. He could count on one hand how many times he’d held a baby in his life. Just the thought of being alone with a tiny, squirming, wailing, human being made his nerves bad. Brazil needed a shot. As he poured his drink, he didn’t know who he should call first. Block, Lethal, or their mother. He was closest to Lethal simply because they were closer in age, but Brazil would go to war behind both his brothers. Block had more street knowledge and since he started doing grown man things at a young age, he was a little wiser than most of his peers. He gave sound advice. Aside from talking to himself, however, Brazil wasn’t sure he was ready to say the words out loud.
Tossing back a shot, he cleared his throat attempting to soothe the burn in his chest, and picked the piece of paper back up. There was also a paper for him to take to a lab. The results would be sent to him and the lawyer. If Kera was dead, how did Giavanna know he could be the father? A better question was why didn’t Kera ever tell him she was pregnant? They hadn’t been anything more than sex. After the last time he had sex with her, for some reason, he never hit her up again, and she didn’t reach out to him either. It had been months, and Brazil hadn’t given her a second thought.
So many thoughts were running through his brain he couldn’t focus on one thing. Brazil grabbed the tequila and opted to drink straight from the bottle versus pouring another shot. What the fuck?
CHAPTER SIX
When Symphony openedher front door and saw a delivery guy standing there holding a vase filled with flowers, her eyes widened. The long-stemmed roses were absolutely gorgeous. It was going to be embarrassing telling him he had the wrong house, because who would be sending her roses? Before she could speak, he smiled.
“I’m looking for Dr. Simmons.”
“That’s me.” Her eyes darted from his face back to the flowers.
“Can you sign right here for me?” he passed her a clipboard, and she smiled as she realized the flowers were actually for her.
“Thank you so much,” her smile grew as he passed her the bouquet.
Symphony couldn’t wait to open the envelope and read the card. After closing the door, she placed the vase on the entry way table in her foyer. Anxiously, she removed the envelope.
Thanks for not holding my ignorant ways against me and being a dope doctor. Shorty.
Nasir.
“Wow,” she chuckled. “Wow, wow, wow.” Symphony was speechless. That was the very last thing that she expected. For afull minute, she stared at the flowers in a state of shock. He had good taste. That was for sure. She could look at the arrangement and tell a pretty penny had been spent. She didn’t care if the flowers came from the grocery store. The gesture would have been appreciated all the same. But to know he spent a nice little coin had her stunned.
Symphony clutched the card and took it upstairs to her bedroom. Mason could be nosey as hell. She wasn’t sure if he knew Mario’s brother’s name, but she didn’t want to take any chances. It was hard to believe that he sent flowers to every doctor that treated him, but she refused to read too much into it. Maybe he wasn’t an asshole after all. She didn’t have a way to thank him aside from going to his home, and that wasn’t an option. She told him to come back in two weeks, so she could make sure his lungs were all clear, but Symphony wasn’t sure if he’d keep the appointment.
Once the card was tucked away, she descended the stairs. As her foot hit the last step, Mason came in from playing basketball at a neighbor’s house. “Those are nice,” he glanced at the flowers. “You got a boyfriend?”
