Cree laughed at his attempt at whispering. “Can you keep a secret?” she asked, knowing he could.
He nodded enthusiastically, his eyes wide in anticipation.
“Tristan is my fiancé, but we’re not telling anyone yet,” she said quietly.
“Wait. I’m the only one who knows?” he whisper-shouted.
“Yup, so if anyone finds out before we announce it, I’ll know who leaked the news.”
A huge grin spread across his face. “I won’t say a word, but it is going to be so cool to finally tell people that Tristan Whitmore is my uncle. That’s crazy! He might be able to get me tickets to see the Eagles or the Packers,” he said of two of his favorite NFL teams.
Cree laughed at his excitement, and he was probably right. If asked, Tristan would definitely work his magic to hook Tray up with tickets to a game, especially the Eagles. As for the Packers, she knew for a fact that it wouldn’t be easy to get tickets for a game played at Lambeau Field. Still, if anyone could get some, it would be Tristan.
“Did Dominic show up yet?”
“Nope, I haven’t seen him,” she said of his roommate.
“I hope you’re still here when he does. His stepmom used to be a stuntwoman. How cool is that?”
“Very cool,” she said and listened as he told her about his roommate and family.
“Aunt Cree, you have to talk to Mom because she’s not listening to me and Dad,” Tray said quietly, and Cree straightened at the mention of his dad. “She’s—”
“Wait. You’ve been in contact with your father?” she asked.
Essence hadn’t mentioned her ex in years. As far as Cree knew, she hadn’t talked to the loser since high school. She had gotten pregnant with Tray toward the end of her senior year, and her ex, Kyle, hadn’t wanted anything to do with Tray.
Before Kyle learned he was going to be a father, he had received a basketball scholarship from Marquette University. He was good enough to go pro and wasn’t letting anything or anyone stand in his way. Though he hadn’t asked Essence to have an abortion, he had asked her to give the baby up for adoption.
Not surprisingly, Essence told him adoption wasn’t an option, and she’d raise their child on her own. After Tray was born, Kyle had signed his rights away, and Cree assumed that was the end of it.
“You’ve met your father?”
“Yeah, I met him once, but we don’t have a relationship. I’m not talking about him. I’m talking about Jackson.”
“When did you start calling him Dad?”
Jackson and Essence had been friends for as long as Cree could remember, and he’d always been active in Tray’s life. Cree just wished her sister could see what they all saw—that Jackson was crazy in love with her and Tray. He treated them like they belonged to him, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for either of them.
“This summer, a little bit before I moved to Atlanta, I started calling him Dad. He’s more of a father than that sperm donor who—” As if catching himself from saying too much, he backpedaled. “I mean Kyle. My biological dad will never be my father. That would be Jackson, and before you ask, he’s cool with it, and I’m thinking about changing my last name to his, even if Mom doesn’t marry him.”
Cree just stared at her nephew. He had grown up so fast. She still remembered when Essence brought him home from the hospital. She and her sister used to share a bedroom, and their parents had put a baby bed in there for Tray.
It seemed like a lifetime ago, and now here she was visiting her nephew in college. He had grown up to be thoughtful, funny, and an intelligent young man, who she was so proud of. Which was what she told him.
“But anyway,” he said, interrupting her thoughts, “I wanted to talk to you because I need you to talk to Mom. She’s threatening to move to Atlanta, and I don’t want her to. I’m not a little kid where I need my mommy all the time, but she’s not listening to me and Dad. I know she’ll listen to you.”
Cree held back a groan. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that she had already tried talking his mother out of moving to Atlanta. Essence was seriously considering it, but maybe Cree could give it one more shot.
The dorm room door flew open.
“Come on, Dee. Why do I have to attend? Uncle Laz won’t mind if I skip the awards banquet,” Tray’s roommate, Dominic, said as he and who Cree assumed were his parents filled the doorway.
Tray had already told her about them and how Dominic’s stepmother, Dakota, used to be a stuntwoman. Tray had even shown her videos of the woman doing stunts on motorcycles, leaping from one rooftop to another, and he’d even found a YouTube video of her in a fight. Not only did the woman have a black belt in some martial art, but she also owned a dojo there in Atlanta.
As Cree watched them enter, her first thought was—what a beautiful couple. The man, tall and extremely good-looking had an authoritative presence, like he might’ve been former military or law enforcement. And she never would’ve guessed the woman was a daredevil. She was a little shorter than Cree and looked… normal. Like just another woman. Albeit a gorgeous supermodel-like woman, but still, just a woman.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know anyone was here,” Dominic said.
