I shrugged off his compliment. “I can’t complain.”
“You got somebody makin’ you happy. I can see it in your smile.”
“What you talkin’ about, man?” I asked, refusing to look at him.
“I know that smile, Prince. Shit, I invented that smile. That’s what good pussy does to you.”
I chuckled. “Yo, chill, Pops.”
“I’m just sayin’. Who is she?”
I sighed, not even able to downplay how I felt about her. “Her name is Cassidy. We know each other from back in the day. She lived in the same neighborhood as me and Moms after y’all divorced.”
“You trust her?”
“I do. She knew me before the NBA and shit, and even back in high school she was never on my dick like the rest of them broads. She’s got her own,” I affirmed.
“Shit, if I ain’t know no better it sound like you tryin' to put a ring on it.”
My shoulders locked up for a second before I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I am. She’s too bad not to wanna lock her down.”
“And you ain't putting up a fight, huh?” he asked with a chuckle.
My grin softened into a genuine smile. “Nah. I’m ready for whatever.”
He dipped his head in a nod. “Respect.”
“Yeah.”
“Besides your lady, what else is on your mind?”
“What do you mean?”
“I can tell you wanna say something to me, so go ahead and say what’s on your mind.”
“Aight, well, I wanna know what finally made you add me to your visitation list after all these years?”
“I told you, I never wanted you to see me like this. I wanted you to grow into the man that I raised you to be. I didn’t want everything I’d instilled in you to be torn down by an image of me behind bars.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like I ain’t know what you were doing out in the streets. You never hid that from me,” I interjected.
“I know that, but when they raided my shit and tossed me in this hell hole, I couldn’t allow you to see me reduced to this until I knew you’d found your place in the world. I didn’t want my failure to hinder your success. You may not respect it or understand it now, but you will when you become a father.”
My father and I talked for another two hours before the correctional officer told me we had ten minutes remaining in our visit.
“Damn, it’s almost time for you to go already?” my father queried, sorrow in his voice.
“Yeah, I guess so. That hour went by fast, but I gotta get to the airport and catch my flight to Vegas. I’m playing in my old arena against my old team in a couple days on Christmas Eve.”
“How you feel about that?”
My shoulders hunched forward. “I don’t feel no way, really. A part of me is just ready to treat it like another game, but another part of me does feel a way. I won’t say nervous, but it’s something,” I confessed.
“Didn’t I tell you to stay focused and keep your head in the game? And look at you now. Just go out there and ball your heart out like you always do and give the mothafuckas hell,” my father advised.
I bobbed my head while reaching out to dap him up. “You already know.”
“Trust, I’ll be watching you and cheering you on.”
