“Uh, yeah it’s been a few weeks now.”
“The baby okay? You have a little girl, right? You know Puddin’ told me what she knew but she also don’t be talking ‘bout y’all like that.”
“Probably because as soon as you around her you don’t give that lady time to talk.” The smirk that crossed his face let me know I was right so I could only shake my head. “Yeah, she’s a little girl.” I was blinking because I couldn’t believe I hadn’t even sent out any of the information about my daughter to the people that I cared about. I’d been trying to keep my mind right but apparently I’d been remiss about doing even the barest of minimums.
“I’m jealous as fuck. I want a lil’ girl something serious. Now, don’t get me wrong; I’m happy as hell that my baby boy is doing well. I just know my Puddin’ tired of being in a house full of dicks. Especially with the boys getting to that musty pre-teen stage.”
“Not you calling my lil homies musty.” Stew’s boys were good kids. The kind that were respectful as hell to everyone and appreciated their time when they came to the facility to see their parents.
His brows shot up, which was always funny to me cause his ass was bald. “Shit, some of your teammates musty and they grown ass men.”
“That’s facts. But they say hygiene is cultural, and we see that firsthand. But they gone be alright. I know Rachelle won’t have them walking around embarrassing her.”
“Hell nah. They're young Stewart men and we've got a reputation to uphold.” He was grinning from ear to ear and I had to admit I admired Stew even more for how he handled his wife’s sons. Or I should say his. He claimed them boys almost from the second he knew about them and gave them his last name when their biological father cut ties with them. He loved those boys the same way he loved his unborn son and I felt even worse. Ami was my blood and I wasn’t treating her the way I should’ve been. I had too many amazing examples around me to be acting the way I was.
“My daughter…her name is Amisha. I call her Ami. The nanny has been holding shit down for me until I can get my head right.”
“Cause the shit with her mama or whatever?” Stew was at least forty but he still looked like he could suit up and play right now. I was shocked he didn’t try it since Dr. Rich went in and did a repair on his fucked-up knee. But with the way he crossed his arms in front of his chest he was going into big brother mode and it wasn’t necessary.
The nigga couldn’t fight ghosts.
“Yeah some of that. And it’s just you…everything that came with it. The shit people saying. It’s a lot of crazy shit going on. I’m trying to do much better than I was. Interacting but even that’s crazy cause she's so little I’m trying not to break her or anything like that.”
“I feel you but you gotta get in the paint. The nanny can’t handle it all cause despite how she got here, that’s your baby.” He pointed his finger at me like he knew I wasn’t pulling my weight and I was convicted as fuck.
“Hell, you can’t tell me that. Ling got my baby spoiled already.” Something about my face must’ve given something away because Stew was staring at me funny. “What I say?”
“Nigga, who you got watching your baby?” Stew was grinning from ear to ear and with a look of surprise that had me playing back in my head what it was I’d said.
“The nanny, what you mean?” I tried to laugh it off but the more I did the harder he was looking.
“Hell nah. Your ass over here smiling and shit the way I do when my Puddin’ crosses my mind and I’m remembering how good she—how much I love her.” His grin televised that wasn’t at all what he was going to say.
“Glad you cleaned that up cause I don’t need to be in y’all business like that.”
He nodded as if, even if I’d thought of his wife like that he’d beat my ass. I couldn’t even lie to myself; he would beat my ass. “Facts. But you smiling like you had a taste of something. I’m assuming your nanny ain’t a lil old white lady. Not anything like Mrs. Doubtfire or somebody like that.”
“Nah, definitely not. She’s young. My age but she’s good as hell at her job. She’s got a master’s degree in nursing and she specializes in neonates. The service I went through said she was one of the best they had so of course I wanted her.”
“Yeah but you don’t just want her for your damn baby do you?” Now Stew was laughing and when he reached over and playfully pushed me my neck got tight.
“I didn’t say all that.”
He teasingly hit my chest with the back of his hand. “You ain’t have to! Your face did it for you.”
“Stew—”
“What this girl look like?” That tone said it wasn’t a real question; it was a demand.
I didn’t answer just pulled out my phone and scrolled through a few of the pictures I’d taken of Ami and Sterling together. I knew I had fucked up because the majority of my recent pictures were of them or just Ami.
Damn, they were both getting under my skin.
Stew took the phone out of my hand, glanced down at it and then back at me and then back at my phone. Chuckling, he handed it back to me as he shook his head. “Nigga, you fucked up.”
My eyes stretched wide as I laughed. “Stew!”
“Aye, I’m telling you like it is. I love my Puddin’ more than myself but I can look at the girl and tell that she’s your type.”
