Huffing, she licked her lips and ran a hand through her bohemian braids before wiping her forehead. She had to take the call outside so her kids wouldn’t hear everything she was saying and had broken a sweat. Spotting Heavy, she checked her attitude long enough to wave.
“Hey! Welcome home,” she greeted, stepping off the porch. “Sorry you had to hear all that.”
Some welcome,Heavy thought, but nodded upward. “It’s cool. You straight?”
“Mhm. Just means I need to go harder. Can’t be depending on a nigga who keeps making promises he’ll never keep,” Jasmine said.
Heavy already knew she was struggling and trying to figure things out, thanks to his grandpa. On plenty of occasions, when he called the house phone, Heavy heard her kids over, and Mr. Gtold him how he’d taken them grocery shopping, or how Jasmine came over to clean up for him when he was in too much pain to do so. Heavy never judged and made sure, even behind bars, that she was taken care of.
“That’s all you can do. In the meantime, here,” he said before digging in his pocket. Peeling off a band and some change, Heavy handed her the money.
Jasmine looked at his outstretched hand as her brows dented. Whenever Mr. G slid her some money, it was always hundreds or twenties, but he always claimed to not ever carry that much cash on him. Jasmine thought he was bluffing, but now she knew he was serious. The money he was giving her wasn’t directly from his pockets but from Heavy’s. That was love, and more than anything, what community was.
“All this time I thought Mr. G was?—”
Heavy cut her off. “Yeah. It’s all good. Handle yo’ business and don’t have that bum-ass nigga back in y’all space.”
Jasmine swallowed hard and nodded. “Thank you.”
Since that day, Jasmine stuck to her words and hadn’t let her kids’ father back in. Rick had been eavesdropping since he saw Heavy’s truck pull into the driveway and had to thank him today. As the man of the house, he didn’t want to see his mama struggling or depending on a man, but it was nice to see a real one actually give a fuck. Heavy gave without wanting anything in return. That’s just the type of man he was and had been raised to be.
“G shit, bruh,” Dre said.
Heavy waved him off. “It’s nothing. They looked out for Gramps while I was locked down. They gon’ forever be good.”
Dre nodded. “See. That’s why you need to gon’ head and fuck with Sky. You a stand-up nigga if I ever seen one.”
His voice was teasing, making Heavy smirk.
“She must be in your ear or something.”
“Nah. I’m just throwing it out there. But for real,” Dre said, getting serious. “If anything ever happens to me?—”
“Man, shut the fuck up,” Heavy grumbled, not trying to hear shit he was saying.
The thought of something possibly happening to his best friend put a foul taste in his mouth.
“For real, nigga!” Dre’s voice grew to get his point across. “Just look out for Sky and my mama. I know that goes without saying, but I’m just putting it out there. Sky might be good, but my mama couldn’t handle losing me for real. She already lost her sister last year.” Dre shook his head, still in disbelief. “My auntie was really my twin, dog. We share the same birthday.”
Heavy nodded. “Yeah, I know. Remember she had us in that old, freaky-ass club one year?”
Head tossed back, Dre laughed deeply from his stomach. “Hell, yeah!” he said after catching his breath. “Them cougars in there were nastier than a mothafucka. Ol’ girl who work at the church and her friend let me do anything to their pretty ass.”
“They were fine as hell. I think they spiked our drinks or something.” Heavy grimaced, making them chortle.
Their laughs settled as they thought about the old times. The times that were now memories with people who were never coming back. This was the ‘shit’ Heavy missed out on. He couldn’t relive or enjoy too many talks about the past because there wasn’t an option to. He had to make new ones and wanted to be alive and free to do so.
“Didn’t she have a child?” Heavy asked.
Dre nodded, spotting a familiar face across the way. “Yeah. Lil’ cuz stays out of town. Aye, look at this goofy nigga,” he sneered with a hand settling on his gun while moving toward the middle of the parking lot.
Heavy diverted his attention to the guy Dre was talking about. He looked unfamiliar to Heavy but didn’t seem out of place as two kids clung to his side, holding each of his hands.
“Aye, Los!” Dre called out, capturing his attention. Los’ eyes widened as he moved his kids behind him. “Yeah, you lucky, bitch-ass nigga.”
The spooked expression on Los’ face brought Dre joy. Not as much joy as it would’ve brought had he been able to lay the nigga down, but a win was a win.
Smirking, Dre pulled his phone out. “He lucky I didn’t start dumping on him and them kids. Really give his folks something to talk about.”
