Page 5 of The One He Desires

“Well, word around the pool hall is that Marjorie will make your dick feel like it’s been suctioned by a vacuum. Your mama was the last⁠—”

“Whoa. TMI, Pops. Stay focused or get out.” I interrupt because I don’t need or want that visual with my egg donor.

“Alright. Alright.” He raises his hands and launches into his spiel.

The conversation becomes static as I think about anything but the information Pops shares with me about the faceless woman he wants to suck him off. Nobody prepares adult children for the reverse rearing that we’re thrust into. The older Pops gets, the more I want to call a meeting between my siblings and me to determine whether he should be in a senior facility. I’m thirty-five, and I’ve lost count of how many women Pops has been with since Sarai left for college until now.

One of the issues between my parents was that Pops could, yet didn’t, provide my mother with anything stable. They shacked up without rings or commitment through three kids until she decided to walk away from all of us. But even without an example, I want a wife I can build with and share my highs and lows with. Marriage for me is the ultimate flex despite Pops’ whorish ways. The biggest contradiction Pops told me growing up was how love would make a man give a woman his all. But he stuck and moved so much, I’m surprised my sisters and I have the same mother. Damn shame, for real.

“When are you gonna get tired of paying my retainer?”

“Shid, the day you stop getting me out of my bullshit. But you have never failed or let me down. It’s money well spent, and I cash you out with a tip and a smile. Although I think you forgot to give me a family discount.”

I laugh heartily when I put my car in drive and pull off the grounds of Ribax Correctional Institute. My cousin, Jamarion, just walked out of the gates of the prison, and like every other time, I’m the person designated to pick him up and bring him home. I don’t mind because it lets us catch up for a few minutes and gives me a chance to see where his head is at. My aunt Dorinda is ready to pull her hair out every time Jamarion gets locked up. But I keep trying to tell her that her son loves the life he lives and will change when something or someone gives him a reason to.

“That went out the window when you had me putting in work after midnight. Most folks are between a pair of thighs early in the morning, but your knucklehead ass chooses those hours to get caught up. I like my beauty sleep like the next man.” I shrug.

“Those are the bewitching hours for fiends. I get my best sells between one and five.” Jamarion enlightens me, and all I can do is shake my head.

For countless seconds, all that can be heard is the music playing throughout the interior as I merge onto I-70, headed home. Thankfully, the drive is a quick one, or I wouldn’t be so inclined to be Jamarion’s designated driver. Aunt Dorinda somehow thinks it looks better for Jamarion that his attorney picks him up instead of one of his hoodlum friends; her words, not mine. That might be true if her son didn’t go back to said friends a millisecond after he touches down in the city.

“You’re coming through for my party, right?” Jamarion asks.

See, this is what I mean. Aunt Dorinda is tired of her baby going to jail, but she never fails to give him a welcome-home party like he’s returning from college or active duty. At this point, I’m not sure if Jamarion or Aunt Dorinda is the villain in his horror story. If Auntie keeps coddling this grown man like a baby, he won’t learn that some things in his life have to change.

“Why your ass ain’t saying shit, cuz?”

“Another one?”

“Fuck you mean? I’m home after being locked down for almost six years. That shit deserves a party.”

I take my eyes off the road and look at Jamarion and smirk at the deep frown and wrinkles on his forehead. I shake my head before I answer.

“This ain’t your first rodeo.”

“Man,” Jamarion says in a dramatic fashion that causes me to chuckle lowly. “Come kick it with your family, cuz. I can’t make any guarantees, but I now have people depending on me to at least stay on this side longer than I usually do.”

Now my forehead wrinkles, and my eyes pinch as my mind spins with scenarios for his cryptic words.

“Don’t tell me you and Auntie have been hiding a kid and their mother all this time.”

A thunderous shout of laughter comes from Jamarion, but I wait for him to provide me with the context of his statements. There’s nothing funny about him getting a woman pregnant and then being gone for years. I will never support a man who is not taking care of his responsibilities, family or otherwise. There are too many innocent children out here trying to figure out their lives because reckless men thought it was cool to be absent. It’s a narrative I will never support or condone. My father is often a rebel and does things that make me question his sanity. But he has always been about my sisters and me.

“For your judgmental-ass information, if I had a kid, this wouldn’t be how I tell you. I also wouldn’t be living so recklessly. I ain’t that drug-dealing nigga, so rest easy, cuz. When I get the chance to experience that blessing from Big Homie, my life will look totally different. Now, are you coming to the party, or are you gonna continue acting brand fucking new?”

“I’ll be there. Just make sure you let me know the details in advance.” After his little heartfelt speech, there is nothing else for me to say.

“I got you, and before we finish this ride, . . . thank you for continuing to represent me. I don’t take the shit lightly because although I pay your retainer, you could still refuse to see about my Black ass.”

“True enough. But you’re lucky I love you and don’t want to see you get railroaded by the system or any other defense attorney.”

“I love your ass too. Family over everything.”

I love my cousin regardless of who he is, and I was planning to attend his party whether I agreed with the motive or not. I just pray that whoever he referred to moments ago will be the motivation he needs to keep his Black ass out of jail and off my calendar.

Nobody prepared me for the task of dealing with a child alone. It’s also not the life I saw for myself after being raised by two parents whose example should have prevented me from this life choice. But I let myself be blinded by dick and multiple periods of a wet ass. I sigh heavily as my phone vibrates, giving me a much-needed distraction from my negative thoughts.

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