Page 94 of A Don & His Doll

It was after ten o’clock at night and Monroe had tipped the delivery drivers, and had just finished painting the walls. Promise and Monae had slipped out to the store and bought all the nic-nacs, decorative throw blankets and pillows, lamps, and so many more things to give the room that warm lived-in feeling. Promise had even bought Monae some things to put in her room to make her more comfortable. Closing the door behind himself, Monroe walked down the hall, and knocked on Monae’s door before sticking his head in.

“What’s good, Muffin? You a’ight?” Monroe asked as he walked in and sat down in the chair in front of her computer desk.

“Hey, Dad,” Monae replied, grabbing the gold feather bookmark that was sitting on the bed beside her. “Did you finish with everything?”

“Yea, I finished the room. It’ll be ready for you and Promise to put y’all’s touch on it tomorrow,” Monroe confirmed, knowing that’s really what she was interested in doing. “You talked to ya mom’s today?” Monroe was genuinely concerned.

Monae smiled. “I did this morning, but I’ma call her before I go to sleep tonight. We gotta talk about this book she got me reading.”

Monroe chuckled, remembering how addicted Sienna was back in the day to her urban novels. “What’chu readin’, Muffin?”

“It’s a book called Now I See. It tells a story of a blind woman who’s self-sufficient and accidentally finds love. It’s a lot more going on in the book too, but her journey is intriguing,” Monae said, thoroughly enjoying the story.

“Interesting,” Monroe returned. “I’ma gone and let ‘chu get back to it. I just wanted to come in here and give you some attention before I close my eyes.”

“Aww, thanks for checking on me. Good night,” Monae said, standing to hug her Dad.

Monroe met her halfway, and kissed her forehead. “Good night, Muffin,” he said, stopping at the door, looking over his shoulder. “Yo’ lil’ ass better skip over them sex scenes too. I know it’s some in that book.”

Monae cracked up laughing. “See you in the morning, Dad.”

“I’ma go buy you that Power Moves book by Sarah Jakes shit,” Monroe complained, but he wasn’t really mad about it.

I can get used to this, Monae thought, walking over to close her door again. Promise had set her up right. Monae had her LED lights on, Bath & Body Works candles lit, a fluffy blanket, and a fire playlist to listen to while she read her book. She’d watched her mom do the same thing for years, the only difference is Sienna had a good glass of red wine.

By the time Monroe made it to the bedroom, Promise had her favorite playlist playing as she moisturized her skin. “There goes my baby,” she said, taking a break from bending. “Thank you for rearranging your schedule for us today.”

“It’s all good. Them niggas know what to do,” Monroe dismissed, kneeling in front of Promise. “I got ‘chu, Doll,” he said, reaching for the shea butter balm that she was using for her skin.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Promise said, loving the feel of Monroe’s hands on her body as he catered to her.

“Don’t nothin’ scare me in this life, ma. Not bullets, prison, or death…But, the thought of wakin' up one day knowin' I had to live the rest of my life without you," he paused. “That shit is terrifying like a mu’fucka,” he admitted, all jokes aside.

Sitting the shea balm down on the bench, Monroe stood, walked over to the dresser, and pulled out a Sony ICD-TX660. He’d purchased it a year before going to Malibu, and had only used it a few times. However, when he went to Malibu he’d recorded a lot more thinking it’d just be something he’d listen to years later after life took its course. There was so much to unpack, relive, feel, and come to terms with while he was away. He never thought that he’d share those moments with anyone, but as he knelt before Promise he thought, there’s no time like the present.

“I’m ‘bout to get in the shower, but I want you to listen to the recordings from when I was in Malibu, and a few before I went. You know every version of me except the one that was out there. When you press play, it’ll start from the beginning. I want you to hear all I had to say when we weren’t together. You deserve to know where my head was at. What a nigga was feeling like, and everything in between,” Monroe stated. “No secrets, right?

Promise didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say anything. Just nodded. But, as soon as Monroe turned on the shower, she turned the recorder over, pressed play, and waited for the recording to begin. Suddenly a soft click echoed through the room. For a few seconds, there was nothing but the distant crash of ocean waves, and the rustle of wind against the microphone.

“Ehm,” he cleared his throat. “This shit weird as fuck, I’on even know why I’m doin’ this shit, bruh,” Monroe said, chuckling.

Promise smiled, but continued to listen attentively.

“Damn, this view is crazy. Promise would love this shit,” Monroe said, sitting his glass of Henny down on the glass table beside him. “Damn, I miss her,” he said, leaning forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “She think a nigga full of shit, but I just wanna be everything she need me to be.”

“You always have been,” Promise whispered as if Monroe was right beside her as the next recording started. The soft breeze and steady chirping of birds in the distance gave Promise a sense of peace as she listened. There were no words for the complete thirty-second recording, but she heard him. She had felt his presence on the recording, but it was the sound of him breathing that confirmed it. She memorized this same sound from the first time she laid her head on his chest. It was smooth, weightless, but it had given her life. She took a deep breath after the recording ended.

“I loved her the best I could…Gave her my all, but she left me. I get why she left, but knowing the truth don’t make that shit burn less. When I look in her eyes, I see what could’ve been…what prolly shoulda been…what still can be, but a nigga ain’t fuckin’ wit it. Shit cost too fuckin’ much. I–”

The recording ended abruptly, but Promise knew that one wasn’t about her…It was about Sienna. He was weighing in on what they had, what they lost, and would never have again. For the first time, Promise took a moment to really feel the weight Monroe had walked around with. There were a few beats of silence before the faint sound of smooth R&B played faintly.

“Got me listenin’ to this slow shit. What the hell has my life come to?” Monroe chuckled. “Damn, a nigga homesick like a mu’fucka.”

Promise sat back and leaned her back against the footboard while tapping the top of her belly as her baby kicked her in the same spots. Monroe’s words had resonated with her because she too was lovesick, and wanted him to come home. The sound of a lighter flickering in the near distance let Promise know he was about to smoke, then the recording went silent, and started back seconds later.

“Lord, forgive me for all the pain I’m causin’ by my absence. A nigga just really need some guidance right about now. I know I’on come to you like I should, and even if you don’t answer me, can you work it out so that Promise, Monae, and Sienna come out on top?” Monroe prayed. “I love Promise unconditionally, but I’d be lyin’ if I said I ain’t still have love for Sienna. I just feel like I can’t be wit’ her after all this time. I know my mama did the unthinkable, but still," he paused. “I just can’t. It’s been a full month, and I can’t think of nobody but Promise. Is that a sign?” He asked God, then the recording went silent.

Promise pressed trembling fingers against her mouth. She hadn't realized she'd been crying until a tear slipped onto the recorder's screen. She wiped it away with the pad of her thumb. Then there was another click. Another recording.