I wanted him to say something. To act like the OG that I knew him to be. At that point, I was trying to say anything I could think of.
“You want me to call Apricot?”
That got his attention. Slowly, Mr. Jennings turned his head in my direction. “No, I don’t want you to call her. Apricot doesn’t give a damn about me.”
“That’s not true, and I think you know it. She’s upset. There’s a difference.”
“I can respect her because at least she’s been who she always was. My wife though,” Mr. Jennings scoffed. “We’ve been together for thirty-one years. Thirty-one years, and she left me for dead after I got shot? Since she’s left me, she’s taken damn near $200,000 from my bank account. It’s cool though.”
He was feeling sorry for himself, and I decided to let him. I was going to let him feel sorry for himself. Mrs. Jennings wasn’t the bad guy for leaving him after she found out he’d been hiding an illegitimate child. Had he taken a blood test for Apricot and found out she wasn’t his, I doubt he would have stuck around. He couldn’t expect her to take what he wouldn’t. I had never been shot, and I’d never suffered a stroke. There was also never a period of time when Ace wouldn’t speak to me. So, I didn’t know how Mr. Jennings felt, and I couldn’t tell him how to feel.
“You need me to do anything for you before your nurse gets here?”
Mr. Jennings kissed his teeth. “I don’t even need a nurse for twelve hours. She makes $30 an hour to bring me snacks and empty my piss jug.”
“You need some ass. You down for me to take you to a private location to see some strippers?”
The look on his face was priceless. He looked genuinely perplexed. After staring at me for a moment like I lost my mind, he actually chuckled. “I think something is wrong with yo’ ass,” he shook his head at me.
“I know you still like women. What’s so odd about that?”
“I can barely unball my left hand. I have to constantly remind myself to open it so it doesn’t get stuck like that. I can’t even throw money with this hand. Strippers would only be on me because they know who I am. If I was regular looking like this, they wouldn’t give me the time of day. I don’t want charity affection or pussy.”
I gave a brief nod. “That’s understandable, but you start physical therapy next week. You’ll be back good in no time. You just have to believe that shit. I know good and well it takes more than some bullets and a weak ass stroke to take you down.”
That got a small smile out of him. “You’re one of a kind kid. If I had to choose a man for my daughter to be with, it would be you.”
That statement caught me by surprise for sure. “Well, she would have some say so in that, and Apricot can’t stand me,” I chuckled.
“She can’t stand you for the bullshit I had you out here doing, and I hate that.”
Waving his comment off, I sparked my blunt. “I’m a grown man, and you didn’t force me to do anything. Breaking in her house was definitely fucked up. I can’t even blame her for being angry about that.”
“Don’t end up like me. I’m telling you. Let this shit go, find someone to settle down with, and stay out the way.”
“That’s the plan, OG.”
The doorbell rang and although it was only 7:45, he assumed it was the nurse and asked me to let her in. I opened the door and found myself standing face to face with the last person that I expected to see. Apricot drew back.
“Uno? What are you doing here?”
“Hello to you too. I’m here visiting your father.”
At the mention of her father, Apricot’s face fell. “My grandmother told me he had a stroke. Is that true? Why didn’t someone call me? You didn’t think to call me?”
It was my turn to look at her like she’d sprouted another head. “Last I checked you didn’t fuck with me. And your father feels like you don’t fuck with him. If he wanted to call you, he would have.”
Apricot kissed her teeth before pushing past me. After closing the door, I pinched the bridge of my nose and walked back into the living room. “I’m going to head out, Mr. Jennings. If you need me call me.”
If looks could kill I would have dropped dead. Apricot was glaring at me like I was the enemy. Mr. Jennings nodded. “Thank you for coming by son. I appreciate you.”
“No problem.”
As I walked to the car, all I could do was chuckle. With Apricot I was damned one way or the other. I was trying to be there for her father when he felt like he didn’t have anyone, and she was mad about it. It would be dope if him and Apricot found some kind of resolve. As far as me and her, I had a feeling that apart was the best place for us to be.
The next day, I was serving clientele in Diamond Cove. I had twelve people to serve. I was meeting all of them twenty to thirty minutes apart. While my car sat idle at a red light, I checked my messages and saw that Bri had sent me a picture of her in the bathroom naked, and I didn’t even respond. Shorty’s sexual appetite was crazy and if I let her distract me, I would have been chasing pussy rather than money. I was winding down to my last few weeks in the dope game, and I had to make them count. I had already decided that I would take Shiloh’s advice and get two trucks. I also decided to buy a space and have four offices, and a conference room for people that worked for themselves and wanted a space they could rent daily or weekly to meet with clients, have meetings, etc. There was going to be an area with machines so they could scan, fax, print, copy, etc. with entrepreneurs being on the rise and a lot of them workingfrom home, I felt like the service would make money. Not many people wanted to pay monthly rent on a place just to have somewhere to meet clients a few times a month.
I was actually excited about what was to come. I’d spent a lot of years selling dope, and it was time to do something different. It would also be nice to be able to tell and show my son what I did for a living versus lying to him. He thought I made way more money than I did teaching boxing classes. Before he was born, I wanted to be financially secure, and I didn’t care how I got there. Even after he was born, my focus was on hustling hard to make as much money as I could. As he got older, I started to realize that more than having money for him to live a good life, I wanted to be free, so I could help to raise him. My pops died from complications with diabetes when I was five. From what I remembered, he was a good father, and I hated that I didn’t have him longer. As long as I was alive and well, I’d always be there for Ace.
