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“Where’s my little boy?” Dad asks, placing my feet back down on the groun
d. Kingston joins my side and leans to grab Mama’s bag and give her a peck on the cheek.
“He fell asleep on the way here. He’s in the truck.” We pulled up curbside and left it running. “Jeffery.” Kingston is curt, exerting himself first with his outstretched hand. My dad takes a second, and Mama may have rolled her eyes, but my stomach flips. Every time they are together, it’s a pool of tension.
“Kingston. I see you’re still big as ever. Better lay off the steroids.” My jaw hits the floor and I pinch my dad’s arm. “Ow.”
“Take it back! That was rude, Dad.”
“Yes, Jeffery, try to remember we are the adults here,” Mama adds.
“Better lay off the jealousy. You’ll fill out one day, Daddy James. Here, let me get that bag for you. We don’t want your arms going numb.”
I gawk at Kingston then, my eyes shifting swiftly from my father to him.
“Ugh, you two knock it off,” I huff.
Kingston smirks and leans to kiss my temple. “He started it.”
“Oh no, don’t even start that shit with me again, Kingston Troy.”
“Easy, sweetie. Just busting the big boy’s chops. Let’s get home. I want to catch up and see my little man.” Patting my back, my father walks away after Kingston and I stay still for a second, shaking my head with my arms still firmly crossed over my chest. Mama drapes her arm over my shoulder and gives it a light, understanding squeeze.
“Men. We can’t live with them, and we can’t lift heavy stuff without them,” she teases, breaking up the cloud of annoyance hovering over me.
“True. Why did I have to pick the smuggest of them all?”
“Cause Trey was already taken. What are you gonna do?”
“Oh hush! Ugh, let the trip begin.”
“Let me see my big guy.” My dad beams, smiling wide as I bring a heavy, seven-month-old Prince toward him. The chunker is going to outweigh me in three years at this rate.
“Look, it’s Papaw,” I coo at him, bouncing him on my hip. He smiles and gurgles, a little bit of slobber running down his chin. His green eyes sparkle as he places his hands on my father’s face. I wipe away the slobber with his bib and he squeals, my dad’s raspberry kisses on his stomach exciting him.
We all laugh, Mama beside Dad as she plays with Prince’s feet. Kingston stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his bulky arms crossed over his chest. Peering back, I give him a dimpled smile with an accompanied wink. He returns it, and I can’t describe the solace I feel at this point in time. I have everything I want and more, and life seems to be settling in, going in the direction Kingston and I hoped for all these years.
“He’s a big boy. He doesn’t even look this big on our video chats. What are you feeding him, sweetie?” my mother asks as I saunter to Kingston, falling into his arms without effort. My back hits his front and his arms band around my chest, holding me tight against him. I hold onto his arm and kiss the taut, warm skin once before answering.
“He just loves to eat. He is forever hungry. Look at his daddy.” I tilt my head up, gesturing to Kings. Mama laughs, but Dad’s eyes stay focused on me, eyeing me up and down suspiciously, and I instantly become a bundle of nerves and self-awareness. It’s as if he can see right through me.
Kingston tightens his grip on me, and I’m sure if I looked back I would see the same realization on his face. My dad hands my mom Prince without a word and stands, his back straight and his arms to his sides, falling into military formation. I gulp as he takes a few steps closer.
“What’s going on? What aren’t you two telling me?” He eyes me first, and then his eyes shift to Kings.
Shit.
“What do you mean, Daddy?” I feign innocence.
“No, don’t ‘Daddy’ me, baby girl. I asked you a question, and I want a real answer,” he scolds. I hate when he interrogates me, but he isn’t stupid, and ever since he’s known about all the times I lied about Joel, he has been able to detect my deception fast.
I wiggle myself from Kingston’s hold, and he begrudgingly lets me. We come to stand in front of my father, my body slightly adjusted to be mostly behind Kingston’s large frame. Kingston and I both know what’s coming, and Kings shows no signs of backing down. With a swallow, Kingston reassures me with a squeeze of my hand as I clear my throat.
“Daddy, maybe you should sit down.”
“Oh no.” Before I even tell him anything, his shoulders slump and his posture changes. With his head hanging low and his hands now on his hips, he whispers under his breath, “What now?”
Stealing a glance at Kingston, his eyes stay glued to my father, and there’s that smug grin he wears proudly, stamped on his face. Oh, God.
