“We were cool, man, but we were just friends. No matter what it may have looked like or felt like, I was never gonna mess with your girl.”
“You wouldn’t have had a choice, Chris. The way y’all were feeling each other, it was only a matter of time before one of you slipped up when you were alone.”
“Which was why I would never be alone with her. I never planned to put you, me, or her in that situation, Jay.”
He nodded and dragged his hand down his face. “Does she make you happy, big homie?”
“Hell yeah. I love that girl.”
“That’s what’s up. Then you have my blessing.”
“Didn’t ask for it, bro.”
He chuckled. “Fix your shit and treat her and her little one right. I saw pictures of her online. She’s beautiful.”
“She is. Looks just like her mama.”
“Strangely enough, she looks like you too.”
“Nigga, don’t start that shit. I told you I never disrespected you like that.”
“Yeah, I wanna believe you, but something’s off.”
“Whatever it is has nothing to do with me.”
He shook his head. “Yeah, a’ight.”
We talked some more about the baby before we changed the subject.
“Hey,knucklehead. You heard Daddy talking to you?” Nicholas asked.
I jerked my head up, noticing that the halftime report was starting.
“What?”
“Mama’s outside with a trunk full of groceries. He said come and get them. You’ve been in your feelings about something lately, and it’s got you acting like an ass,” Nicholas stated.
“Keep talking shit, and I’m ’bout to break my size fourteens off in that ass,” I quipped.
“Nigga, I will put you on your head,” he declared.
I rushed him and tackled him to the floor. Joshua jumped in like the baby brother he was, landing on both of us.
My brothers and I engaged in horseplay for a minute or so before my dad peered back into the family room and barked, “Now!” We immediately straightened up and followed his instructions. He corralled all three of us, and we got the groceries from the car and into the house. Once the groceries were inside, we all sat around the kitchen, grabbing things to eat while we waited for the game to start again.
“Why the long face, Son?” my mother asked as I sat at the island eating a slice of her homemade pecan bourbon cake.
“I’m good,” I mumbled.
“No, you’re not. Tell that lie to someone else. Did you forget that I gave birth to your bigheaded, long-limbed self after twenty-nine hours of labor? Chile, I know you better than I know myself. Don’t tell me you’re good. Sitting there with your bottom lip all poked out, puppy dog eyes tearing up, and messing over my cake. Boy, that cake cost me forty-four dollars to make. Those ingredients weren’t cheap, and I only use the best.”
“I’m not crying, Ma.”
“You look like you’re about to.”
“I’m not, Ma.”
“Boy, don’t tell me. I’m your Mama, and I’ve known you better than you’ve known yourself since you got here. Having to buy that special milk for you to drink because you couldn’t take breast milk like your brother. You had digestive issues,” she stated snidely.
