“Hello?”
“Is everything okay?” Calls from my mother always wrecked my nerves because I never knew if she was just calling to say hello or tell me she needed bail money for my father, uncle or brother. Shit if I’m being real, a call like that could be about any man in my family and a few of the women.
“Of course it is, baby. How’s Vegas?”
Despite being exhausted, I couldn’t help but smile. “Hi Mom. Vegas is Vegas.”
“Have you found a place yet?”
“I haven’t even been here a week.”
“So where do they have you staying?” I could tell she was doing several other things while talking to me, washing the dishes and moving in and out of the house.
“I’m staying in a hotel at the moment.”
“Have you met the team?”
It was clear this conversation was going to be heavy on the questions. “I did and they all love me,” I teased.
“What’s not to love? I raised my baby right.” She tsked and then under her breath she said, “Why is this man lying to Judge Mathis.”
“How’s work?”
“You know Denise, my new coworker? She just told my boss she felt uncomfortable around me because I never engage in small talk.”
“No, she didn’t.”
“Yes, she did. She’s lucky I’m a God-fearing woman because my tongue and these fists stay ready.”
“Momma, you can’t go around beating people up.”
“I didn’t, but I wanted to. She needs to mind her business. I get my work done and don’t bother nobody.”
“Well once I’m settled in here you can tell nosy Denise to suck it.” This new contract elevated my tax bracket big time. I was making decent money in Kansas, but my Ramblers contract was the kind that created generational wealth. We grew up poor, I’m talking me and my brother sleeping in the living room because we could only afford a two-bedroom apartment, and the rooms were reserved for my parents and sister.
So poor I could never participate in the Scholastic Book Fairs at school. Except for that one time when my fifth-grade teacher, Ms. Hammel, gave me ten dollars to buy a book. I purchasedDiary of a Wimpy Kid, and an eraser shaped like a boom box. Money was always tight, some months we’d gone without water or electricity. But my mother always found a way to get us through.
I’d been working since I was ten doing odd jobs around the neighborhood. When I turned thirteen, I started working as a bicycle delivery person for a local Chinese restaurant. The only reason they hired me was because I lied about my age, and my height allowed me to look a convincing sixteen. They paid me in cash, which meant I could keep some of my money before handing over the rest to my mother for household bills or groceries.
“I wanted to tell her my son was a famous basketball player.”
“Okay Mom, we talked about this. You can’t start every conversation with the professional ballplayer card.”
“Why not? Parents whose children are doctors or lawyers do it all the time.
“Yeah well, they shouldn’t either.
“So, when can your father and I come to visit?”
My mother was always welcome. My father, however, could jump off the Girard Point Bridge and I wouldn’t shed a tear.Problem was, my mother refused to travel without him despite him being a useless piece of shit. I wasn’t up for visitors, not right now. I’d be a horrible host because of practice, my time in the gym, and this house search. “Once I’m settled, we can talk.”
“Well have you started looking?”
“Yes, I met with the realtor the other day. Funny enough—” I stopped short, deciding against mentioning Danessa. When we were dating, my mom loved her. Honestly, I think she was just glad I’d brought home a Black girl. Once we broke up, Danessa quickly went from future daughter-in-law to the one that got away for both me and my mother.
My phone dinged with an incoming message from Nori. “Mom, I have to go. Talk to you later.”
“Okay, don’t forget to call your uncle and wish him a happy birthday.”
