“Thank you, Daddy.”
“You’re welcome, baby.”
“It’s time to go. Tell daddy you love him.” Lise’s sugary sweet voice replaced the hard-as-nails one that she answered the phone with.
“Bye, Daddy. Love you.”
“Love you too, baby. Be good for mommy.” I smiled faintly, pleased that Aspen was going to have a pleasant holiday, even if it wasn’t with me.
“Later, Amari.” Lise hung up before I could respond.
Rude ass.
No matter how much we didn’t care for each other, Lise and I agreed to be somewhat cordial in front of Aspen and try to center her needs. Neither of us enjoyed having to console our child when sadness covered her face after one of us ended our call with her.
I placed my phone on my desk and sat behind it with my head low in my hands. Christmas might as well had been a funeral without witnessing the joy on Aspen’s face when she opened her truckload of presents.
That was why I immersed myself in my work as CEO and lead contractor at Snowden Fix-All during the holiday seasons when Aspen wasn’t with me. As everyone else spent money, I made it hand over fist. My company was my second child and a manifestation of my discipline and commitment to my legacy.
I rolled my shoulders back and stretched my long legs before thumbing through the overflowing piles of papers on my desk. After spending several minutes updating my physical calendar with appointments, the bell at the outer doors to my office suite rang. Since my assistant was off for the day, I waited for my visitor to find me. Within seconds, I looked up to see my buddy and right-hand man, Malcolm, pop up into my open door.
Without waiting for me to invite him in, he stomped his big, booted feet on my all-weather mat several times. Clumps of snow of various sizes fell onto the mat and my freshly mopped floor as Malcolm’s wet, black Timberland boots thudded across my tile. He sauntered to the desk like a bear seeking its next meal.
I crossed my arms with my frown soon matching the one on his face.
“Why you coming in here looking like you ready to tear somebody’s head off? And messing up my floor?” I pointed to the wet tracks behind Malcolm. “Even Aspen knows how to wipe her feet.”
Malcolm didn’t bother to look at the spots I pointed to but plopped his husky body into the stackable chair in front of my metal desk. He shook his head with pursed lips.
I pushed my calendar aside and sat on the edge of my desk with my hand on my thigh.
“Don’t throw your pissy mood my way, man. I ain’t no damn Lise.” Malcolm snapped at me like I’d done something wrong.
I clenched and unclenched my fists to simmer down as he poured salt into the tender wound about my ex. I had to remember that it wasn’t Malcolm’s fault that my marriage to Lise hadn’t worked out.
Instead of telling me what his problem was, Malcolm peered down at the cell phone in his right hand and shook his head. As always, the sturdy buttons of his flannel work shirt burst at the seams.
“When are you going to buy clothes that fit? My clients don’t want to see all your secrets.” I pointed to my company logo on his shirt. “This is a veteran-owned business, and I don’t do sloppy.”
“Chill, man. I’m on a diet. This time next year, I’ll be swimming in this one.” Malcolm attempted to pull the fabric of his shirt from his body but only managed to stretch the buttons more.
“You know you can’t sew, so stop all that fidgeting.” I teased him, still slightly pissed about his poke at me earlier.
Malcolm’s rigid posture broke as he took a swig of the strawberry Slimfast in the small can he brought into my office.
Since he was sensitive about the three hundred plus pounds he mostly carried in his stomach, I spoke with temperance.
“Big men are in right now, and women like teddy bears. Look at Ruben Studdard. Walk a mile a day and you’ll meet your goals.” I referred to the 2003American Idolwinner as encouragement.
Although I’d never had a problem maintaining a healthy weight for my over six-foot height, I sympathized with Malcolm’s struggle and believed in body positivity for men as well as women.
Malcolm tilted his head back until he emptied his can.
“Ruben’s tall, so his weight is balanced. The last chick I dated said I was shaped like Grimace at McDonald’s. That was cold-blooded.” Malcolm frowned like he lost his best friend.
“Not Grimace.”
Both of us chuckled.
