Tink saw me coming and shook her head.
“You just can’t let them finish doing their job?” She smirked.
“Shit, I’m finished,” I countered.
Lani leaned around Tink, pointing at the MVP trophy in my hand. “You know Mama already said that’s going in her house.”
“She got all the other ones.” I frowned.
“Go tell Aiesha Samuels that,” she laughed.
It still felt weird seeing my parents married after all these years, but they were happy, and that’s all I ever wanted.
Another camera crew tried to wave me over, but I turned my body just enough to keep Tink tucked beside me and made it clear I wasn’t moving yet. The stadium was still full, the stage lights were still bright, and the field was still covered in confetti, but for the first time since the clock hit zero, I let myself breathe without thinking about the next snap, the next question, or the next person calling my name.
I had spent years chasing nights like this. The trophy… the title. I had wanted all of it, and I wasn’t going to pretend different now that I had it in my hands. But standing there with Tink pressed against my side, my mama crying a few feet away, Lani’s loud ass, and my teammates celebrating around me, the championship felt like more than something we won.
It felt like something I got to carry home. Not just to Cannon Hills… to my family.
Epilogue
Titan
two years later…
We decided at the last minute to have family over, and somehow that turned into our backyard being full of the people closest to us.
By the time I came back outside with a stack of plates, Tink had Janae on one side of her and Lani on the other, and neitherone of them looked like they planned on moving. Tink had already eaten one plate and was working on another, ribs on one side, greens and macaroni mixed how she liked it. She pointed toward the table with her fork when she saw me.
“Put them plates down and bring me that hot sauce since my brother is neglecting me,” she joked.
“Damn, you just asked.” He frowned. “I told you not to let that nigga get you pregnant again, anyway.” He shot me a look.
“Nigga, that’s my wife and I’m gone do as I please. I can’t wait until y’all muthafuckas leave so I can do it again,” I joked.
“Hold on, greedy girl. Let me put the top on before you waste it,” she said.
“Gimme,” Timea’s little bad ass demanded.
I sat beside Tink and put my hand on the side of her stomach when our son moved. She didn’t stop eating, just shifted enough for me to feel him better while she reached for her cup.
“He’s been doing that since the ribs came off the grill,” she said.
“That’s my boy,” I spoke proudly.
“I hope he don’t act like you,” Saint but in.
“Nigga, please. Why you think Heir want to come over here all the time?”
“That little nigga got a crush on Cady, that’s all. He was the same way with Eve,” Saint explained.
“Yeah, I’m gone beat his little mannish ass,” I griped.
“You ain’t gone do shit.” Saint waved me off.
My mama came to the table with another pan, and my pops followed with Timea’s missing sandal in his hand because she had given it to him again. He set the sandal near Lani and went back to the grill.
The food kept moving, and nobody sat still for long. Saint got up to fix Eve another plate, but Noble followed him and asked for more macaroni. Eve told Saint not to give him more until hefinished what he had. It was rare that we had days like this, but I enjoyed them when we did.
