She glanced around for him, but he was already knee-deep in conversation with the contractor, head down, brows scrunched, talking about soil levels and foundation lines like he’d built houses all his life.
The phone buzzed again and again.
Then the screen lit up with a name she’d never seen before.
INMATE CALL
Meadow froze, her heart stopping long enough to make her hesitate before she picked it up.
She looked toward Zaire again - still busy, still unaware. Something inside her chest whispered that maybe this moment wasn’t a mistake…maybe it was meant to be hers. She inhaled softly and thumbed the button. “Hello?”
“Press 1 to accept this prepaid call from California State Prison”
Her fingers stumbled to press one. There was a long beep, followed by static, then a voice smooth enough to settle her bones and warm enough to catch her off guard said, “Who this, cuh?”
Meadow blinked hard. “Ummm Meadow…Meadow Green.”
She felt stupid for saying her full name.
A low chuckle rolled through the line, rich and edged with charm. “Well, Meadow Green…you ain’t the voice I expected. You got a sweet one, though.”
Her smile slipped out before she could stop it. “Lord…uh, thank you.”
“Mmhmm,” he hummed, amused. “You nervous?”
“Only a little,” she confessed.
“Well, don’t be. I don’t bite, least not unless somebody ask me real nice.”
Meadow’s jaw dropped. “Okay yeah, you’re definitely his Pops.”
Antwan laughed - a deep, slow, belly laugh that sounded like it had been carried through a lifetime of walls and still managed to survive with its softness intact.
“Zaire there?” he asked.
“He’s talking to somebody about something he’s having installed.
“That boy always tryna fix somethin’,” he said fondly. “Just like his Mama. Never could sit still.”
Meadow’s chest warmed at the familiarity in his tone…the love…the ease.
Antwan asked, “And you? How you fit into my son’s world?”
Meadow stumbled for the first time. “I…uh…I’m?—”
He saved her from her own tongue. “Sweetheart, I ain’t askin’ for your résumé. I’m askin’ how youfit.”
A pause.
Gentle…understanding…old-soul steady.
“How you make my boy feel?”
Meadow’s breath snagged. “Safe,” she whispered. Everything inside her felt peaceful. “I make him feel…safe.”
Antwan exhaled. “Then you already matter more than you know.”
Her eyes stung.
