“Is that what you wanted?” Jahlil brow rose.
“Mm,” Emani grunted. “I might’ve imagined what it would’ve been like if you popped up at a show and told me you left her and you wanted me to come home. And then it would piss me off because we were on two different journeys and I’d write a song about how I couldn’t stand you.”
Jahlil shook his head. “All I heard was that you still loved a nigga. I just hurt you. Not going to lie, I played out how I was coming for you over and over.”
“It pan out how you wanted?”
“Better because I got to whoop some ass in the process. I don’t get to do that shit often,” Jahlil joked.
“Let our ass whopping days be behind us. Let’s just move forward with harmony. I’ve really been craving some happiness and joy.”
“That’s what you’re going to get too. Watch me, E.”
“The Savage Show is my favorite.”
The selection of food Jahlil arranged prior to their arrival came to the table and he sat in this moment. No phone, no distractions, no Ashton in the corner saying or doing something wild. It was just them, in their bubble dreaming again.
“You thought about what your next move is?” Jahlil posed, watching her eat her gelato between feeding him bites.
She buzzed and shrugged. “An EP. Something new. Something that’s mine. Some savage season shit.”
“Oh that shit is about to be fire. Yeah, that label can kiss all of your ass. Make sure they feel it in their chest too. Raw, uncut E.Rose. The one that looked me in my eyes and popped her shit.”
34 /JAHLIL
Morning training,lunch with his lady, an afternoon quickie on a secluded part of the beach, practice and now he was watching his baby girl hug a little boy behind the thick glass of the preschool room. Part of him wanted to beat down the door, snatch the little boy up and knock his head off of his shoulders for wrapping his arms around his daughter, the other part was happy that she at least made a friend regardless if the little bowling ball headed boy was swinging her in circles.
Jahlil snapped a picture and sent it to Emani and Aunt Violet.
Jah: I’ll knock this little nigga out
E: no you won’t!
Auntie: aww she found a little boyfriend
Jah: he finna get a return to sender stamp touching my baby like that
E: boy! Relax
Jah: if she skips out here I’m sending him back
Auntie: Emani get your man
E: nope your nephew. I just got free of one felony charge. You want me to catch another?
Auntie: won’t be no charge if no one lives to tell the story. That’s your problem. You be leaving people around to tell the story. Don’t worry though when I see that gap-toothed, wide-backed, botched BBL Janet, I’ll get her
E: you know this is text. And it can be used in court
Auntie: won’t be no court baby. Won’t be no court
“It seems my children can’t stay away from yours,” a familiar voice pierced Jahlil’s balance of attention from his phone and his daughter getting squeezed and swung around, and grinned at.
Jah: might be some court
Jahlil looked up and over at the man standing next to him and clenched his jaw. “Seems like it. You gon’ have her arrested too?”
John Barette pulled in a deep breath and swayed his head. “I might have my son arrested for accosting your little girl like that.”
