I sighed. “You’re upset with me. I can feel it, Mama. But why take it out on her? The slick comments? The silent treatment? Making her feel like she’s a stranger in her own home?”
That got her. She stiffened for a second, then turned the stove off.
“I didn’t know I was doing that,” she said, trying to keep her voice even. Trying to lie to herself more than me.
“You are,” I said calmly. “I get that things moved fast. We went from you, me, and quiet nights… to a house full of cries, bottles, loud voices, and loved ones you probably didn’t ask for. But this house may be big, Mama, but it ain’t big enough for attitude and disrespect. Not when it comes to my wife. Not when it comes to the woman who risked everything to bring our son into this world.”
She spun to face me. “Your wife got you out here killin’, Seth. You walkin’ ‘round like death don’t live close no more. You think that’s normal?”
I clenched my jaw.
“With all due respect, Mama… Stormi didn’t make me a killer. Life did. The streets did. You know that. If it was up to her, we’d be somewhere in the damn suburbs far away from this life. But I chose this. Me. Because I don’t let nobody breathe after threatening what’s mine.”
Her eyes shimmered, but she blinked it back. Pride and pain lived in my mother like roommates who never left.
“If you need a break from this life, say the word. I’ll fly you wherever you want. Book you a place somewhere warm and safe. Hell, you can go to church three times a day and call me inbetween services. But what you not gonna do is keep treating Stormi like she ain’t family. Like she didn’t damn near die for this family.”
Her lip trembled before she bit it. “So, you kicking me out now?” she asked, softer this time. Not angry. Just hurt.
I stepped closer. “No. Never. We want you here. You mean the world to us. But I see you, Mama. I see how heavy all this is on you. You’ve lost so much. And now you’re watching me walk a path that you prayed every night I’d avoid.”
She didn’t speak, but her energy shifted. That wall of hers cracked just a little.
“So, I’m asking you really asking what do you need?”
She paused. Looked down. Her voice broke when she finally said, “I’m a part of your village, right?”
My throat got tight. We hadn’t been acting like a village. Not lately. But God knows I wanted to.
“We want you to be,” I told her honestly. “This family ain’t whole without you. But it can’t survive if we’re fighting each other inside while fighting enemies outside.”
She nodded slowly, then opened her arms. I stepped into them without hesitation. Held her like the little boy she raised and the man I became.
“Look at the love this morning,” Jo said, walking into the kitchen with Mama and me. Her voice carried that teasing warmth only she could pull off, like she was soaking in a sight she hadn’t seen in a while.
Stormi followed, cradling half asleep Shiloh against her chest. Without hesitation, I reached out, taking my son from her arms, planting a quick kiss on Stormi’s cheek.
Mama’s eyes softened as she looked at Stormi. “Morning, Stormi. I want to say I’m sorry for how I acted this week. I love you, and I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”
Stormi’s smile was tired but genuine as she stepped forward and wrapped my mama in a hug. “It’s okay. I understand. And I love you too.”
Jo walked up, giving a quick smirk that broke the tension. “Glad we got that out the way ’cause I swear, I was about to have to beat your ass over my daughter.”
We all busted out laughing this moment reminds you what family really is.
I caught Stormi’s eye and saw something there, relief, acceptance, and a flicker of hope.
“I’ll be back later,” I said, pressing a rough kiss to Stormi’s lips, my fingers lingering on her cheek as I handed her Shiloh. The way she held him so damn gentle always hit me in a place I didn’t want to admit existed.
Keys in hand, I stepped out the door. Rich was already outside, chatting with the soldiers posted around my crib when I was gone. Loyal as hell. I nodded at him as I approached.
“Yo, you ready?” I asked, dapping him up.
Rich grinned, tossing a joint my way. “Damn, nigga, you rushin’ out before I even get to say bye to my godsons?”
I laughed, sliding into the driver’s seat beside him. “You know I gotta handle business.”
We pulled off into the city, the joint burning between us, the music loud enough to drown the silence but not enough to kill the heaviness hanging in the air. Rich scrolled through his phone, and I kept my eyes locked on the road, but my mind was miles away.
