“How the fuck are you this good?” I asked her, staring at the board. “Have you lost yet?”
“To Berkeley,” Clarke answered, then nodded. She looked up at me, tilted her head to the side, then looked over at Berkeley, who was smiling. “But that’s because she used to play during one of her sessions with her patient. She got private lessons from a chess champion and didn’t even realize it.”
“Correction, I realized it,” Berkeley shrugged. “Our sessions were chaotic as hell, but we forged through.”
“A chaotic endeavor,” Clarke said, and Berkeley nodded in agreement. “Now, back to you, Tulane. Start from the beginning.”
“The beginning?” Tulane questioned. “How fucking simple.”
“Keep the smart-ass remarks, Tulane,” Berkeley said, sitting up. “She’s only trying to help. Either take the advice or walk your ass out of here.”
“This is my house,” Tulane said as if we cared.
“And?” Spelman said, sitting up as well. She was the quiet one, so seeing her move made all of us look at her. “This might be your house, but we run this shit, not you. You can’t move without us moving, which is probably starting to piss you off.” She pointed at me. “Her nigga put you on notice and checked your ass a few times in the process. Now, do what Clarke said and start from the fucking beginning, or stop wasting our time because you are getting on my damn nerves today.” Spelman mugged him one last time, then lay back in her spot.
“You pissed off the quiet one,” Clarke laughed and shook her head. “Spelman is the quiet one. She doesn’t yell or get mad, but you pissed her off.”
“I didn’t piss her off,” Tulane rebutted. “She’s pissed because of that--”
“Tulane!” Spelman snapped. “Tell your damn story already.”
“Fine,” he groaned and wiped his hand over his face. “Y’all know that I loved y’all mamas.”
“Or so you say,” Berkeley interjected with a laugh.
“I did,” Tulane replied with a slight attitude. “But I was in love with your sister’s mama.”
“Which sister?” I asked.
“The second oldest,” he replied.
“Mine?” Berkley was surprised as hell by him admitting that. “You loved that crazy lady?”
“No,” Tulane chuckled. “I mean, yeah, I loved her, but I wasn’t in love with her. You’re technically my third daughter.”
“There’s someone between me and Spelman?” Berkeley asked before I could. I looked over at her to see that she was wearing the same confused expression as I was. Clarke stopped workingon her carving, and Spelman sat up again. “Nigga, you got another kid?”
“I did,” Tulane nodded. “It’s five of y’all.” He stretched his legs out in front of him. “Well, it was. I recently found out she died a few years ago.”
“What happened?” I asked. I hadn’t really been paying attention, but now I was. Tulane was struggling, but I wanted to hear what he had to say.
“I don’t know the small details.” Tulane shook his head. “Just that the car she was in was hit.” He looked so sad as he sat there, like the thought of losing her affected him to a degree we would never understand. “I didn’t know she was dead, hell, no one did. Her mama’s side didn’t know either.”
“How didn’t they know?” Berkeley asked.
“It was covered up,” Tulane replied. “The only information I got was that she was killed in a car crash. Her aunt, uncle, brother, cousin—hell, even I have been looking for her for years. But she’s her mama’s daughter, and I thought she’d show when she was ready.”
“She’s been dead this entire time, and you’re just finding out? Who did it?” Spelman asked. “And what do you want us to do with this information?”
“I want y’all to know because you said start from the beginning,” Tulane replied. He leaned his head back and wiped his hand over his face. I looked over at Berkeley, who only shrugged. “I loved y’all’s mama, but her mama was different. She was magic, like make the best damn drug on the earth type of magic.”
“Yet you broke her heart?” Berkeley said, and he shook his head. “No?”
“No,” Tulane answered. “She played the game better than I did. Broke my fucking heart. I called myself moving on, hooked up with Spelman’s mama, she got pregnant, but shit happened,and I ran into her randomly. By then, she had a kid, a son.” He sat forward. “Spelman came along, and me and her mama were cool, but there was no love there. We agreed to co-parent, and I got back with my ex.”
“Such a cute little ghetto love story,” Spelman laughed. “My mama basically told me the same shit. Y'all didn’t work out and moved on from each other.” She waved him on. “Finish the story, but you have four kids to explain.”
“We were good for a little while, living our little life and shit,” he shook his head. “Then her son got kidnapped by a nigga. I had to show the fuck out, but she wouldn’t, or better yet, couldn’t let it go. I was always on edge, and I realized my home would never be at peace while I lived there. We were always at each other’s throats, and this is the part I didn’t tell her people. She told me she was in love with another nigga. I followed her for a few weeks. I saw who it was, and everything in me was ready to snap, but I did one better. He took the woman I loved.”
