I swallowed. “I just . . . I just don’t wanna do it wrong.”
Kennedy’s voice softened. “You not gonna end up like him.”
I closed my eyes with my head still back on the seat and took in her next words.
“You not my daddy,” she said. “You not strung out. You not abusive. You don’t disappear. You don’t make people afraid to love you.”
I opened my eyes and exhaled, taking those words in carefully. “I want it,” I admitted. “That family shit. I just . . . don’t know how to step into it without losing myself.”
“You won’t,” she said. “You’ll finally be yourself.”
I was about to respond when the airport’s glass doors opened and caught my eye. Love and Yana stepped out with suitcases rolling beside them.
“Hold on,” I said as I sat up. “They here.”
I instinctively pressed end on the phone and opened the car door to greet them. Warm L.A. air hit me in the face as I stepped out, and the noise from the terminal swirled around me.
My driver had stepped out and walked around the hood of the car toward them for the bags. Yana and Princess stood right outside the glass doors and looked around before Yana spotted me first.
The smile on her face shone brightly when she tapped her mother’s shoulder and pointed in our direction. Her grin widened, and she picked up her pace, bouncing as she walked. She seemed taller than the last time I saw her. She wore loose cargo pants, a cropped hoodie, and Converse sneakers, but itwas her face that caught me every time—that soft nose, the same eyes that looked like they hid all the answers when she laughed. Her curly black hair was pulled into a half-up, half-down style that blew wildly in the wind behind her.
She looked so much like my mother.
I bent down a little when she got close and pulled her into a tight embrace.
“Hey, baby girl,” I said into her hair. “How was the flight?”
“The same as coach always is,” she mumbled playfully.
“Girl, we was in business class. If you don’t cut it out,” Princess countered as she stepped up to us. “You was literally in seat 1A!”
“I’m just saying, since the moment I got on a jet, it’s been hard to go back to anything less.”
I chuckled. Their playful banter was easily my favorite part of their relationship. I loved the way Princess mothered her. She allowed Yana to express herself, but she would snap quickly if it went too far. That also reminded me of my mother.
Princess rolled her eyes and smiled. “Girl, bye. Go get yo’ little ass in the car before I have to whup you.”
Just then, my phone rang in my hand. I answered it quickly when I saw the name across my screen, hardly able to say hello before her voice boomed through the speaker.
“Put my niece on the phone!” Kennedy demanded. “Rude ass, just hanging up on folks!”
“My bad, Ken.” I laughed and then held out the phone to Yana. “Your auntie looking for you.”
She took the phone and walked to the car, followed by our driver, who rolled her suitcase behind him.
Then, it was just Princess and me. She smiled when our eyes met. I grabbed her hand and took a step back, looking her up and down.
She had on black leggings that hugged her curves tightly. A white jacket was tied around her waist, and a yellow crop top rose high enough to show her belly button. The silver ring sparkled in the sunlight and hung next to the purple star tattoo that kissed her skin. It was tiny and faint, but still there. I remembered going with her when we were teenagers in Detroit, both of us pretending we weren’t scared, holding hands tighter than necessary.
She adjusted the strap of her bag that hung on her shoulder. Her cheeks turned pink when she noticed how my eyes followed her curves. “Hey, Zay,” she said softly.
“Hey,” I replied, letting my eyes travel back up just enough to let her know I was checking her out. “You look . . . comfortable.”
She grinned. “Is that your way of saying I look good?”
“It’s my way of saying you always knew how to dress for trouble.”
“You still so ridiculous.” She laughed and shook her head.
