I rubbed his face. “Sorry. I went to get chips and soda.”
He wrapped his hand around my neck, sucking on my lips as he shoved his tongue down my throat. The one thing I realized about Gerald was that he was a kisser.
Not a regular peck on the lips kiss either.
That man swapped spit, tossed his tongue down your throat, and held your face or neck while he did it. I felt guilty for being so wet in his mama’s kitchen, after she just consoled me.
He pulled back and kissed on my neck. “Where’s my moms?”
“She felt dizzy and fell transferring to her bed and wanted to nap… we cooked. You hungry?”
Once he heard she fell, he wasn’t trying to hear shit else. He went to the back where her room was and poked his head into her room. Like she said, she was resting peacefully.
He came back into the kitchen. “She so bull headed.”
“Does she have an aid?”
“Yeah, but she sends them home early thinking she can do everything alone. Been wanting to move her off this block and she refuses.”
“Sit… let me make you some food.”
He washed his hands and then sat down. I could tell he was still in deep thought about his mother. “Why don’t you move her into the condo with you?”
“Minds well put a gun to her head.”
“Goo, that’s a bit dramatic.”
“For real. This neighborhood is home… her friends live on all these surrounding blocks. I think the reason she didn’t sink into a deeper depression when she lost her leg was because ofher friends. Feel guilty taking her away but know that she needs to move. Khaos always got somebody on her, and Chef is always around so she’s safe… just don’t like her being over this way anymore.”
I understood his dilemma. Taking his mother away from everyone she loved, and a place she had called home for years was hard. He didn’t want to step in like he was her parent, but living in this neighborhood wasn’t the best.
Had her sons been regular Joe Smo’s than that wouldn’t have been a problem. Goon and Khaos’s names ran through this city like the Delgatos and Infernos.
“You was in here cooking, Boobie?” He tried to switch the subject, and I allowed him because I could only imagine how stressful it was dealing with a disabled mother.
I blushed. “I was… Ms. Sharon taught me a little something.”
I sat the bowl in front of him, excited for him to taste the food. He bowed his head and said his prayer and then took the spoon and tasted the soup.
He nodded his head in approval. “I expected nothing less… shit always bussin.”
I watched as he ate his food, then put his spoon down. “What’s wrong?”
He started choking and grabbed the water I sat next to him. “Shit fucking spicy.”
“Is it not supposed to be spicy?”
Goo coughed more, and sat back in his seat, sweat accumulated on his forehead. “It has a little spice, but baby this shit got me bout to strip.”
“You need more water?”
“Fuck yeah… she let the scotch bonnet break in there or some shit?”
“What?”
“The pepper that was simmering on top of the soup.”
“I cut them up before turning the pot down to simmer,” I explained, and Goo broke out in a fit of coughs.
