“Who the fuck is his pops?” Carson asked, still laughing.
“John Barette.”
“Damn! Y’all might as well bury the hatchet because Andrew is smitten by his daughter and if not for nothing else, Sanaa has her first age-appropriate friend. This is bigger than his ego and yours.”
Jahlil waved him off. “It’s not my ego.”
Carson took another sip of his drink and grunted. “It’s your ego. It’s that shit as a man that stings your soul when you can’t protect your family. I’m not saying you’re wrong. I’m saying to you like I told, E, this is bigger than y’all now. Look at us. All adults with some fucked up childhood trauma that found each other in college and made our own family. Your kids, Kyrie and Donnée’s kids, and God-forbid Ashton has spawns – none of them should have to have a glimpse of the hell we went through. Even if their father is Ashton.”
Jahlil shook his head, laughing silently. “Yeah, you right. Before I be the fuckin’ adult, I’d still like to punch the niggas lights out.”
“Need I remind you about the final cost of making Emani’s shit go away?” Carson posed.
“Nah. And I don’t care what the cost was. If it takes everything I got to keep her, I’d do it.”
Carson didn’t respond immediately. He looked out into the open space and sighed. “I really love the way y’all love each other. Like through the time apart, the family you’re creating. That shit almost makes me change my mind.”
“Oh, you finally gonna let go of the idea of stealing my girl?” Jahlil joked.
“I was never going to steal your girl,” Carson clarified. “That shit was fun to say to watch your nostrils flare. I know where her heart is and who owns it. My only job was to protect her as much as I could.”
“So you’re going to settle down?”
Carson shrugged. “I don’t know. I just look at where I’m at right now and the next years of my life and I’m not trying to be that old nigga running behind all the young girls trying to hold on to some false sense of youth.”
“I hear you. Don’t end up like Ryan Jones. Nigga finna lose out on seventy-five million dollars and his chair at SportsTalk because he can’t seem to get it through his thick ass, Bigen painted head that he’s damn near seventy,” Jahlil stated.
“I’m not never trying to be on a podcast talking about how many blue pills I pop to fuck a woman half my age. That shit is crazy as hell,” Carson replied.
“My point. Listen, bro. Follow your heart. You know how this life shit goes and I’ve learned it’s a lot easier to do it when you got someone on your side who has your best interest at heart and you do theirs,” Jahlil shared. “Those seven years…I’d have to do them again to get Sanaa, but when you know better, you do better.”
“I hear you. I don’t know, maybe I need to take my black ass to therapy so all this trauma isn’t unloaded on someone else. ‘Cause if I do this shit, it’s got to be healthy and whole and I can’t be the reason everything goes to shit,” Carson commented, before swiping his hand over his face. “I’ll have you know I hate you muhfuckas.”
Jahlil laughed. “What we do?”
“Got me considering shit I’ve been against since middle school. That’s how you know what y’all got is some powerful shit. You know once my mind is made up, that’s it.”
“Don’t I know it. I just need to be the best man right behind E, because I know you got her pegged for the best woman and keep whoever she is away from Ashton.”
Carson kissed his teeth. “I can’t even trust apples and plates around that nigga. You think I’m going to let my lady around him? Fuhhhhhccckkk no.”
Jahlil dropped his head back in belly aching laughter. “Ashton already hit your momma, he’ll for sure try your girl.”
“My point. Remind me again why you didn’t let me kill his ass?”
“Because the little shit is a resourceful leprechaun and you know Sanaa needs a life-sized doll to play with,” Jahlil stated, making Carson almost spit his drink out.
“Tell me you still got the pictures of him in that fairy dress!”
Jahlil smirked. “Know me, nigga.”
As the night went on, the group started to disperse with plans to fly out to Ocean City for the Halloween weekend faceoff with his old team. Jahlil sat back and watched Andrew clean up the minimal mess before bringing him the game controllers. Jahlil observed him, fresh haircut, new clothes and some confidence in his stride – the Emani effect.
“You had a good night?” Jahlil asked, nodding to the nearby chair as he took the controllers.
“Yeah, I like courtside more than being in the box. Even though Sanaa kept arguing with the refs,” Andrews laughed at the tail end of his comment and took a seat. “The ref was loving it though. She’s lowkey famous now too.”
“Y’all were distracting as hell but that shit was funny. She gets that shit from our mother. On her good days, she was just like that. Energized and animated. The life of the party and quick-witted.”
