I didn’t want my mother on drugs, but I didn’t want her like this either. I didn’t know which one would be worse.
“She more than likely has minor traumatic brain injury. It may affect her cognitive skills, vocabulary, and her memory. There could also be some behavioral changes. Only time will tell, but the doctors hope with therapy and rehabilitation, she’ll make a full recovery. It could take weeks, or it could take years.”
With a slight nod, I allowed my body to relax. That wasn’t the worst news I could have gotten. Money wasn’t an issue, and I’d pay for whatever it was that she needed. As long as there was a chance that she would be alright, I could breathe easier. Prayerfully, she would get better and by the time she did, the desire to use drugs would be out of her system. I wasn’t sure how feasible that was because if she was in pain, they’d give her strong pain medication, and that would give her the same fix as heroin.
“Hey ma.” Finally, I made it to the side of her bed.
Looking over at me, she either tried to smile or her face twitched. “H-h-hi, Hymn.” My mother sighed deeply, and I had no clue if she was tired or frustrated because it took so much effort for her to get her words out. I didn’t want her to keep trying to talk if it was too much for her.
“Where’s Huncho?” Divine asked.
“At my house pouting, He got kicked out of school. He already knows he can’t go back to his dad’s house because he isn’t having it. He also knows if he stays with me, I’m gon’ be on his ass, so I’m not sure what he’s going to do yet.”
“Damn,” Divine shook her head. “I just knew he was going to make it. I can’t believe he fumbled his chances. Huncho is a great player. He’s almost as good as you.”
“Unfortunately, he’s going to have to learn the hard way. Since he’s no longer in school, the allowance stops. If he wants money, he’s going to have to work for it. My fear is that he’ll go back to hustling for it, but I can’t let that worry me. Huncho is an adult.” I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince Divine or myself.
I made it. A nigga was rich, and I didn’t want my brother selling drugs when I could help him get anything that he wanted to get. Sometimes, trying to teach people lessons backfired. If Huncho went back to hustling it would be because he wanted to, but if something bad happened, it would be on my conscious.
Sitting down, I prepared to sit and visit with my mother for a while despite the fact that I hated the hospital. I was only missing one day of practice, then I had to get back to it. The grind didn’t stop and medical care wasn’t cheap.
“You think she’s going to need in home nurses?” I asked Divine while scratching at my brow with my thumb nail.
“Maybe. Me and Grams can take care of her, but in the event that I’m busy, I don’t want the bulk of the work falling on Grams. I can take off for a week maybe two but eventually, I have to get back to it.”
And that was one of the things I loved about my sister. We had the same mother. Her having to miss work to take care of our mother was never something that I’d hold against her, but she treated her job like she worked for a stranger and not her brother. She always went above and beyond and earned every penny.
“You know you can take as much time as you need. I’m never tripping on that. You were running around with the flu still trying to work and handle business.”
“I wouldn’t make half of what I make working for you anywhere else. I show you that I appreciate you by doing what I’m supposed to. I don’t feel entitled to your money just because we’re siblings, and I know Huncho doesn’t either. If he comes back to Atlanta, I’ll for sure keep an eye on him because I don’t want him hustling either.”
At least when Huncho was away at college, I didn’t worry too much. Of course, I knew that he could get in trouble at college, but I was hoping and praying that his love for football would be the incentive that he needed to calm down. If he couldn’t play ball, Huncho wouldn’t care about going back to selling drugs and whatever else illegal that he was dabbling in.
Scrubbing a hand down my face, I sighed and sat back in the chair. If it wasn’t one thing it was another. This was an intense season, and my personal life wanted to wait until the season started to become eventful. It was aight though. My mother was built Ford tough and as for Huncho only time would tell with that knucklehead.
Two days later, after practice, Isaac picked up his glass filled with beer and took a large swallow. “I found out information on the makeup artist,” he stated, and I eyed him as if I was waiting for him to continue the sentence. When he didn’t, I spoke.
“Okay. What does that have to do with me?”
“Bro, I saw the way you were looking at her. Shorty is fine. Dressed all the way down, no makeup on her face, no weave in her hair. Baby was too fine,” he declared, and I chuckled.
“Aight, you seem to have been watching her hard as hell. Don’t make London act an ass because you know she will.”
Isaac shook his head. “Nigga, I love my wife, but I’m not blind. Anyway, I got the details for you. You need a nice, wholesome woman. You might as well buy a camera and make these hoes work since you meet more models than a photographer for Vouge magazine.”
That comment got a laugh out of me. “You ignorant as fuck,” I laughed sipping my beer. Generally, during the week when football season was active I would only drink one to two beers if I went out. I tried to stay away from the hard liquor but if I really wanted to indulge, it wasn’t more than two shots.
Isaac wasn’t really lying. I had nothing against an Instagram model. I’d never take one seriously but fucking? Shit yeah. I knew from the moment I joined the league that I would probably be alone for a minute. I didn’t have a high school or college sweetheart that was in the trenches with me. Meeting anyone after I signed that contract would have been a gamble. The easiest way to make sure I didn’t have someone pretending to love me so they could run through my money would have been to get a woman that had money of her own. My schedule was busy enough. I didn’t see the point in being in a serious relationship with a woman that was just as busy as me, so I was out here thuggin’ it for real.
“Shorty was bad though,” I agreed.
“That she was. I didn’t even see you eyeballing Shannon and the Scat Pack crew like that, and they were all made up and dressed up. Shannon pretty much tried to put her pussy in your lap.”
“I might not mind sticking dick to airheads, but I’m still selective. Shannon is too damn thirsty, and she runs her mouth. There are women that entertain men with money, and they deal with one for a minute before moving on to the next. Shannon isthe type to have five niggas in rotation all at once. I’m good on that.”
“I feel you. I didn’t even want London doing this reality show bullshit. It brings too much drama and negativity, and I’ll never understand why half the women they choose aren’t even wives or girlfriends. They’re side chicks and baby mamas. That shit is sick. Out of five women, there is only one wife. There’s one fiancée and the other three are just women that fucked a few athletes and got some money out of them.”
“You know your wife doesn’t do drama, so you don’t even have to worry about that.”
