“Yes, I have some more left, greedy. I literally took it out of the oven fifteen minutes ago.”
“I can come get a piece?” I asked with a hopeful tone.
“You are ridiculous,” she giggled. “Come on.”
The apple cobbler was the perfect excuse for me to go to Josie’s house and try to avoid the temptation of drinking. Shit was becoming hard to do. Weed made me calm and passive, but I’d been smoking for so long that in major times of stress, it didn’t really do much anymore. Alcohol succeeded in numbing whatever negative emotion I was going through at the time. I was beginning to crave that feeling and eventually, that shit would harm me more than it helped.
The day that Josie wouldn’t let me leave her house, I was lowkey annoyed at first. In my opinion, I was fine and didn’t need to be policed but looking back at it, she was just being a decent person, and I couldn’t fault her for that. Another thing that annoyed the hell out of me was when she called me a kid. There wasn’t shit childish about me. Just because she had years on me didn’t mean she could son me. Josie was grown as hell and bad as hell, but I felt she was saying I wasn’t capable of dealing with a woman of her caliber. That made me want to apply pressure and prove her ass wrong, but she was about to be Hymn’s sister-n-law. If things got weird between us, she was too close for comfort.
Hymn wouldn’t allow me to pay him rent, so I was stacking my bread to get my own home. I wanted my skills with carpentry and construction to become so good that I was able to help builders create my home from the ground up. That would be dope as fuck. I felt in another year, I’d be ready to start the process. Again, I could start that process tomorrow if I wanted Hymn to buy me a house, but contrary to what some felt about my age, I was grown, and I was going to handle my own shit. If I didn’t go to prison.
That was another thing looming over my head and causing me to stress. Having two open cases was some bullshit. My lawyer was pushing my court dates back as far as he could but eventually, I would have to face the music. I wasn’t looking forward to it. There wasn’t any bitch in my blood, and I could survive anywhere, prison included. That didn’t mean I wanted to go. There it was. The reminder of my cases was yet another trigger that had me wanting to take a detour and go home to drink instead of going to Josie’s house and stuffing my face with cobbler. I stayed on track, however, and was pulling up at her house in no time.
Shorty answered the door looking real relaxed and sexy. Josie was wearing red leggings with a red cropped sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled on top of her head in a messy bun, and she was wearing glasses. Never in life had a pair of glasses on a female turned me on the way it did when I took Josie in. With no makeup on and those glasses, she was 90’s fine with a sophisticated look. I was digging that shit.
“I need to go to the library and find me a lil’ nerd,” I stated crossing over the threshold of her home. “You making those glasses sexy as fuck.” I licked my lips, and she narrowed her eyes.
“I’m still trying to figure out if I like you or not.”
Her comment made me laugh. A boisterous ass laugh too. I could fuck with Josie’s energy. “I don’t want no smoke. I’m just here to satisfy my sweet tooth.” That comment could definitely mean more than one thing, but I wasn’t trying to be on no creep shit. Men that kept making sexual references when a woman wasn’t really with it were cornballs in my book.
“Right this way, Rugrat.”
I was being mindful not to say creep shit, but I was still a man at the end of the day, so my eyes definitely landed on Josie’s backside as she led me to the kitchen. “Aight now. Don’t get mad when I ask you why you aren’t wearing your orthopedic shoes.”
Josie turned around faster than the speed of light. The moment she lunged, I took it back to the football field and dodged her while laughing. “Chill,” I grinned while ducking her blows.
“You haven’t been here ten minutes, and you’re already on strike three.”
“I’ll just hush,” I promised.
“Thank you.” Josie rolled her eyes and turned back around.
Josie’s home was nice as hell, she was single as far as I knew, didn’t have kids, and had a nasty BMW. Shorty was successful and could bake her ass off. The most important thing though, was that her personality was A-1. She could be the baddest, richest, and the thickest, but if her personality wasn’t hitting on shit, then the fantasy would be dead. Josie was the type of woman that you kept around for more than just sex. The fact that she felt I was too young for her was lowkey offensive. I wasn’t some lame ass lil’ boy that needed to drop her off at work and keep her car for the day. I didn’t sit around all day playing video games, and I damn sure didn’t look for women to take care of me. My age wasn’t stopping shit, but I didn’t think Josie was too interested in finding out what I had to offer because she’d already written me off.
In the kitchen I perched on a stool while she went over to the cabinet and grabbed a bowl. My eyes lingered a little too long because when she turned around, she caught me staring, but she didn’t say anything. She just grabbed a fork and walked to the counter where the cobbler was.
“I’m not just here for cobbler,” I confessed. For some reason, I couldn’t take my eyes off Josie, so if I was going to keep staring, I felt I should at least say something.
“Oh yeah?” she asked never looking up from what she was doing.
“I got out of class, and I wanted to drink. Like real bad. I’m not an alcoholic, but I’m finding myself using alcohol way too much to cope. I didn’t want to be on that today, so I just hit you up because last time it seemed like you cared. A little.”
Josie placed the bowl of cobbler in front of me. “I cared a lot. I just didn’t feel like you needed to be driving. Have you ever thought of going to therapy?”
“No.” Scooping up a piece of cobbler, I put it in my mouth, and almost moaned like a bitch. “Bro, what size ring do you wear?”
That question got a laugh out of Josie. “You love hyping me.”
“I don’t know how you get down when it comes to cooking meals, but you got baking on lock. On my mama.”
“Thank you,” she beamed. “And maybe you should consider it. It’s not unusual for people to have vices they lean toward when they’re stressed. That’s not an issue if you can find a healthy vice. I actually started baking to relax because being a business owner can be very taxing and stressful. Anytime I’m in my head too much or just want to zone out and do me, I find a recipe and start baking.”
My head bobbed. “I guess for me that used to be weed and football, but I can’t play football anymore. I mean, I can find some niggas and play for fun, but it’s not the same as playing for a team. I lost the ability to play football, got hella charges, health issues all around the same time. Weed alone for sure isn’t cutting it,” I confessed.
“Have you ever thought about coaching? Maybe young kids or even teenagers. One of my homegirls actually plays on a women’s flag football team. It might not be the same as playing yourself, but that way you’d still get to be a part of the game.”
“That’s a good ass idea,” I scooped the last piece of cobbler into my mouth while Josie stared at me with a slack jaw.
