“Don’t worry. I’m sure you can handle the hashtag BirminghamsFinestMayor with your usual charm,” I joked, as I chuckled along.
A reporter grinned and asked, “What about any changes coming to the Department of Justice?”
I leaned into the microphone. “Yes, changes are coming. I’ll be working directly with cities across the country to help buildtrust and increase transparency, because real change starts with leading by example.”
The mayor nodded, his face turning serious again. “We look forward to that. The people of Birmingham deserve transparency and accountability.”
“Thank you.”
The press conference ended soon after. The mayor stepped up to answer more questions while I shook hands and exchanged a few words with officers and officials.
As I walked down the courthouse steps toward my department car with Captain Jordan, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Nia.
Nia: Congratulations. How does it feel #PrettyBoyFed
Me: I passed the #PrettyBoy torch to Mayor McLeod, but you’ll get my answer tonight.
I smiled and put my phone away. I had work to do that, for the first time, felt right in both my heart and my oath.
Talia’s voice carried through the screen door before it swung open. “There they are! Birmingham’s most controversial power couple! How was the press conference?”
“About as comfortable as standing in front of a firing squad, but I didn’t get shot, so I’m counting it as a win,” I answered with a half-smile, accepting her brief hug.
The house smelled like heaven, with a sweet potato pie cooling on the kitchen counter. Mama Vivian emerged from the kitchen, dish towel slung over her shoulder.
“There’s my son-in-law. Come here and let me see you.”
I bent down to receive her embrace, still not entirely used to how easily she’d welcomed me into the fold. Marriage hadn’t erased the wonder I felt at being part of this family, this tight-knit circle that had every reason to reject me but had instead pulled me in closer.
“Is it Dr. Price-Banks, or does he have to call you doctor in bed too?” Talia asked, grinning.
Nia rolled her eyes. “Girl, if you don’t stop! Ignore her, babe. She’s just mad because her date last night was with a man who thought Angela Davis was a brand of ice cream.”
Talia groaned. “Don’t remind me. I swear, the dating pool in Birmingham is shallower than a kiddie pool in August. Does your fine hubby have any friends worth introducing me to? Ones with, you know, actual brain cells?”
“I’ll have my people call your people. I have to warn you, though, most of them are cops, and they talk about their guns how that guy probably talked about ice cream.”
We all laughed.
“Ro, you looked sharp talking to the mayor, though I think your head’s gotten bigger since this morning. Fame will do that.” Todd’s deep voice carried from the living room doorway, where he stood with a glass of brown liquor, his wife Sandra by his side.
“The only thing big around here is your mouth, Captain. And the paycheck you’re going to owe me when the Falcons beat your Saints next week,” I shot back.
The men chuckled, and Sandra rolled her eyes affectionately. “Lord, the sports betting has started. Nia, come save us from these men.”
Nia laughed. “I’ve learned to pick my battles, Sandra. Sports talk is a losing one. Mama, what can I do?” she asked, moving toward the kitchen.
Nia slipped into the kitchen of her childhood home, reaching for plates in cabinets, bumping hips playfully with her mother asthey moved around each other. My wife was strikingly beautiful here, relaxed in a way I rarely saw her anywhere else.
Talia slid up beside me with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Back to the cabin for the honeymoon, huh? That’s your signature move, huh?”
“It’s a traditional spot now. We have history there.” I shrugged, not bothering to hide my smile.
“History, chemistry, biology . . .” Todd muttered into his drink, earning a playful smack on the arm from his wife.
“I packed extra snacks for y’all since the last time you two disappeared to that cabin, you came back looking half-starved,” Talia continued, gesturing to a basket on the side table.
“Food wasn’t exactly our priority,” I replied, then glanced toward the kitchen to make sure Mama Vivian hadn’t heard.
