The news felt like a sucker punch. I racked my brain, trying to remember the last time I saw him. It was two years ago, briefly. He’d looked a little thinner, but Sterling was always a solid man and losing a few pounds wouldn’t have hurt him.
“What about a kidney transplant?” I asked. “Weren’t you a match? Why didn’t he ask me?” I asked.
She shook her head. “You know your father, he was too prideful for all that. When it became clear there weren’t any other options, we decided on palliative care.”
She paused and drew in a shaky breath.
“And two nights ago,” she continued, lip trembling, “he passed in his sleep.”
This was the part where, ideally, I’d collapse into her arms. Where grief overtook us both and we held each other–pretending we hadn’t spent most of my life going through the motions of being mother and daughter.
But there were no tears. No dramatics. If anything, I felt like a weight had been lifted. A chapter of my life that I could finally close.
“I’m sorry,” I said carefully. “I know how much he meant to you.”
Kenya screwed up her face. “You say that like he was a stranger. He was your father.”
I looked her dead in the eye. “Yeah, well—it’s not like we ever had the typical daddy-daughter relationship.”
Her expression hardened, and I could feel the tension rising between us. I inhaled deeply, trying to keep my voiceeven. “Kenya, I didn’t come here to fight. I know this is a lot. I came to help lay him to rest, sort out his affairs, and make sure you’re okay.”
“This isn’t a job, Nairobi. I’m not some damn project. You could at least try to show some compassion. You act like a robot.”
“That’s my cue to go,” I said as I stood. “You’re clearly very upset, processing all this. I’ll come back tomorrow and we’ll figure out the funeral arrangements.”
“You’re not staying here?”
“I haven’t spent the night in this house since I was twenty-one.”
She scoffed and looked away.
“I’ll be at my condo,” I said. “I’ll call you before I come by tomorrow. Get some rest, Kenya.”
I didn’t wait for a reply. I gathered my things and left, closing the door softly behind me.
4 /JASMINE BANKS
“I’m thinkingof getting a section for my birthday,” Monica said. “I can have Jelani book us one down at Palladium.”
“Girl,” I drawled, stretching out on the couch and propping my feet up on the ottoman. “You know damn well Cash is gonna flip his shit if I’m at the club. He already side-eyes me when I walk too fast.”
It was one of my rare days off, and it was nice catching up with my girl over the phone. These past few weeks at the hospital had been wearing me out. I’d cut my hours back, but being charge nurse seven months pregnant didn’t make anything easier. Cash kept pushing for me to start my maternity leave early, but I knew I’d end up stir-crazy within a week.
“So lie,” Monica said. “Say we’re going to dinner. I’ll tell Lani it’s just me, Rochelle, and Drea. Boom.”
I tapped my finger against my lip. “Hmm… That might work, I’ll think about it.”
I was itching for a night out. Thankfully, this pregnancy was mostly a breeze, but Cash had gotten so extra with the protectiveness. He acted like I needed a force field around me every time I leftthe house.
“Oh! You’ll never guess who I ran into today,” I said, sitting up a little.
“Who?”
“Wait, first—promise you won’t tell Jelani.”
“Ooh,” her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “What, you saw one of your old niggas?”
“Bitch? No,” I laughed. “I sawNairobi?—”
