“Retirement?” Andrew and Jahlil asked in tandem.
Jahlil’s face was stuck in confusion. “I’m twenty-seven. I have another seven years ahead of me before we even have that conversation.”
“The average player retires from the NBA around thirty-eight. If you’re looking at the hall of fame by forty you need to put some things in play now,” Q spoke up.
By the look on Jahlil’s face, Andrew knew Q was about to get checked. Being that she had a habit of overstepping and crying about it, Jahlil ignored her altogether to talk to his brother. “Ay, watch your mouth. Aight.”
Q didn’t get the hint. “It’s something you should consider, Jah.”
Jahlil groaned before he turned to face her. “Quinn, you sleepy or hard of hearing? Carson committed me to homecoming, aight cool. I’ll talk to him. Everything else, miss me with it and take the rest of the day off.”
“I’m just looking out for you, Jah. Who else is here to do it?” she posed as if Jahlil’s circle was big enough for him to worry about. That circle was tight. The only loose end was her and he was trying to find a way to x her out of the equation immediately.
He chuckled and stood. “This is a conversation I’m not having with you. I’ll see you later.”
He waited until she was exiting the house to move out of the living room.
“I swore she wasn’t ever going to leave,” Andrew huffed. “I don’t like that lady. She’s weird. Hurry up and get rid of her.”
“I’ll handle it how I handle it. You handle them boxes before Auntie gets back. If I were you, I’d call her and sweet talk her. Since seven preteens are about to be all up and through here.”
Andrew pulled out his phone and called Aunt Violet who was out grocery shopping. Jahlil tried to get her to use JoyCart over and over but she swore she needed to shop the old school way. After getting dressed and hyping himself up to play nice with others, Jahlil joined Aunt Violet in the kitchen. Andrew and Sanaa were busy putting away groceries.
“You know you got my baby cursing like a sailor?” Jahlil spoke as Aunt Violet grated a block of cheese. “What you making?”
“Fried chicken, mac and cheese and veggies for these kids,” she shared, before wiping her brow. “And I explained to our in-house terrorist that colorful language is saved for bridge and uno.”
Jahlil winced in laughter. “I just paid her preschool tuition, if her cussing ass gets kicked out, I’m coming to you for that 25k.”
Aunt Violet stopped what she was doing to hold her arms out. “Run up get done up, nigga. What you gon’ do? Do something about it! You won’t because you’re a jive turkey. Don’t make me break your ass down and make change out you, boy.”
In full laughter, he found it amazing how similar Aunt Violet and his mother were. Aunt Violet was everything his mom was on her good days. Before he could get into his feelings, he posed, “ you making all that for that nigga? How he get you to do that?”
“The same way you got me to make a five course meal for a whole team to soften the blow of you leaving OC. Where you going?”
“Team dinner hosted by Malik that I don’t want to go to. But I’m going to be a team player,” Jahlil curled his lip. “Be the bigger man or however the shit goes.”
“You know, the thing about free will is you can be the ain’t shit man and not go. He’s checking your temperature.”
He frowned. “For what?”
“He’s got your girl. And because he has your girl, he can’t welcome you back in his house. Nah, too close. You can smell her all over that house. He needs you in public with cameras and all the eyes so he can show everyone he’s the bigga nigga. So he can have you around your girl with evidence.”
“She’s not my girl,” Jahlil lied to Aunt Violet and himself.
“Oh baby boy, she’s yours. I knew when I stepped in that small ass apartment with that ugly ass orange couch that that was your girl. She decorated and made it a livable place for your brother. That’s your girl, always will be. The question is are you going to swing your dick and get her back?” Aunt Violet posed.
“Auntie!”
“What?” she popped back. “What else you come back here for? Miss me with the family bullshit. The Crew has successfully balanced you both.”
“Save me a plate would you?”
“For what? You’re coming back here sick. You’re going to see her up close and personal. Smell her. And I’m telling you, I’ve been watching that girl and she can put that shit on. She’s going to look good enough to suck off the bone and you won’t be able to because another nigga has your girl. But you can tell me what you want for dinner next week. I’m sure by then you’ll be over it. That’s the going time, right? A week?”
Jahlil huffed and waved her off. Before walking out of the kitchen, he kissed Sanaa and popped Andrew on the back of the head. “Be good and watch your mouth, little girl. Don’t embarrass me, little boy.”
“I won’t,” Sanaa assured with a giggle.
