“You miss her?” Andrew asked.
“Every day. What makes it easy is your smile and Sanaa’s personality. It’s a reminder that her spirit is free and she’s around. I hate you never experienced her beauty,” Jahlil shared as Andrew rubbed his hands on his jeans.
“I think the way you take care of us without second thought is the beauty. I’m sorry I took advantage of that,” Andrew replied.
“Bro, listen to me. You’re going to stumble, it’s life. Just don’t lie to me. I will go to war for you but don’t abuse my trust. One of these days, I’m going to go from being your daddy to your brother and I’m going to trust you to take the lessons I taught you and do good in the world. It’s me and you, we all we got, don’t fuck that up,” Jahlil lectured, holding his fist out for a bump.
“You neither. You making it to my first game right? It’s after the game in OC.”
“Have I ever missed a game before?” Jahlil posed.
Andrew shook his head and stood up. “Don’t start now.”
Jahlil smirked, flipped him the birdie and threw his head toward the living room. “Put the rebel in the bed for me.”
Andrew looked into the house, finding Emani half sleep, holding a sleeping Sanaa. She tenderly kissed the top of her head, rubbed her back and whispered things in her ear. Andrew could only assume it was the same affirmations Emani whispered to him when he was younger.
“Hey,” Andrew started, grabbing Jahlil’s attention as he stood.
“What’s up?”
“You think after you and Emani get married that she’ll want to like…adopt us?” Andrew started. “Neither of us really had a mother.”
Jahlil smiled. “We’ll talk about it.”
“Aight,” Andrew muttered, walking in toward Emani and Sanaa. Before he took Sanaa, he hugged and kissed Emani’s cheek. “Thanks for tonight.”
“Any time. Get some sleep. I’m on drop off duty tomorrow morning.”
“Oh word,” Andrew gleefully replied, adjusting Sanaa on his body. “Good night, E.”
“Night, Drew-Drew.”
Jahlil roamed in after Andrew was half way up the stairs. “Can I have your lap now?”
Emani tiredly laughed and patted her lap. “Come on.”
Jahlil stretched his body over the couch and laid his head in her lap, pushing his hands up her skirt for warmth. “You had a good night?”
“Witnessing you break your own record? Hell yeah. Probably the best game you’ve played in the last seven years,” Emani hummed, rubbing his head. “Made me very proud.”
“You didn’t sit down all game. Had them niggas talking shit, too.”
“You got the baddest chick in the game, baby, let them talk. Oh, guess what?”
“Hm,” Jahlil asked, his body getting heavier in her lap.
“I have a studio session with Lucci and some writer tomorrow night,” Emani shared, making Jahlil roll over and look up at her. “What?”
“You nervous?”
She shook her head. “Nah, it’s Lucci. I know it’s going to be great. I just don’t know how it’s going to work out with the label shit.”
“Fuck that label shit, don’t be nervous. You a star and you were made for this. And sometimes, you got to go home to remember who you are.” Jahlil laced his fingers in hers. “Goes for both of us.”
“It feels so good to be home.”
“Damn right.”
