“I fucked up.”
I turned to see that my brother had finished half the wings and was now looking into my face again. “Tune?—”
“Nawl, G…”
He picked up the almost empty glass and downed his Hennessy. His tone implied he was about to say some shit that needed my full attention, so I didn’t look away.
“When you first approached me and you bought dat high-ass painting, I purposely taxed yo’ ass cuz I didn’t give a fuck ’bout the nigga we came from. But den you were outside the jail, and ever since, you been showin’ up. The least I coulda did was asked you if it was okay to go after Glow.”
He rubbed his hand down his head but held eye contact. Tunan looked like the rest of his siblings, but it was times like this when I saw our father in him. Each time Sandro made his appearance in one of my features, it threw me off, especially because I saw the shit when I looked in the mirror every day.
“Dat shit was flaw as fuck, Shio. When you sent me to stand in for you, and I saw Glow sittin’ there…” He hung his head low for a second and then chuckled before looking back at me. “All I could think ’bout was how fuckin’ pretty she was. I’d just told myself I was done with dese bitches. I was gonna focus on my come up and keep my dick to myself. But den, dat shit just happened. Den I needed a wife. Den I couldn’t stop thinkin’ ’bout her.
“I realized I wanted in with the mob more than I needed your approval. The fucked-up part of me feels like I mighta married her before you could, and if dat’s the case, you shouldn’t wanna fuck with a nigga like me—blood or not.”
“You’re right, I shouldn’t. But Tune… You ain’t come looking for me, it was the other way around. You don’t remember because you were too young, but our father loved you. He was fucked up, no doubt, and some days I questioned if the nigga even loved me.”
I chuckled as I thought back to my first time seeing Tunan. I was only youngin’ and hadn’t completely given up on Sandro.
“You need to leave!”the woman I’d never seen before yelled at my dad from behind a screened door.
She was different-looking from my mama. My mama was thin and always well-dressed, and this woman was heavy-set and wore a house gown with discoloration all over it. Her hair was wrapped in a scarf, and my mama kept her hair flowing down her back. The tired look in her eyes was the one thing she had in common with my mama, and from the look on her face, my daddy had done something to disgust her.
My head bounced from her to my dad. I was confused. When my dad put me on the fancy airplane, where the nice flight attendant gave me cookies and juice, I thought we were headed to Disney World. But when the plane landed, and we walked through the airport, and I saw the Welcome to Memphis sign, I knew then, we were a long way from Disney World.
“I'm just trying to see the boy. I can give him a better life?—”
“A betta life? A betta life! Are you fuckin’ crazy!”
The sound of people moving closer to the door could be heard, and about four boys varying in ages, two of whom were wearing diapers, appeared behind her. They all shared identical features, but one stood out among the rest. He had his eyes on my daddy, whereas the other boys were looking at their mama.
“Listen, baby?—”
“Baby?”
I was just as shocked as the woman in the dingy dress. I looked at my dad with the same bewildered eyes as her, except he wasn’t paying me any mind. His focus was fixated on the woman, and the pleading in his eyes was the same he’d shown to my mama when he knew he’d done something wrong, which was most of the time. Still, I loved my daddy, and that’s why I was standing here, waiting for an explanation as to why we were here instead of on rides at Disney World.
This neighborhood was filthy, the houses were tiny, and this particular one looked too small for so many children to be living in it. They all looked so poor. I didn’t know where my daddy had found these poor people. I didn’t understand why we were here, and he was showing so much urgency and care toward the unkempt woman.
“The boy?—”
“You can’t even call him what he is! He’s notthe boy,Sandro! He’s your boy! He’s your son! A son I wouldn’t have had had I known your ass was married!”
She began shooing the children behind her back as she whispered that last part of her sentence.
“I know… I know he’s my son. That’s why I’m trying to make it right. You won’t take money from me. You won’t let me move you away from this city. The least you can do is just let him come with me.”
I blinked as my eyes shifted between my daddy, the lady, and the boy, who was still standing there, watching my daddy. The other children, who looked to be his siblings, had gone further into the house. I studied him and saw that what made him different from the other children was what made me Sandro’s son.
Was he my brother?
But how?
My dad was married to my mama. Could men have children with other women when they were married? And the other boys looked like him, too, so does that mean they were my brothers as well?
“You don’t think I know who you are and what you do? Hunh? My cousin told me ’bout you. About who you’re associated with. Dat wife of yours? Did she marry you willingly, Sandro?”
My dad didn’t respond, which made me stare at him for answers too. My mama loved my daddy. Why would she not marry him willingly?
