Page 28 of The Need to Know

Ah, here we go.

I made myself comfortable across from him. It was bright and sunny out, a nice day as my mother’s rose garden was in full bloom nearby, providing a sweet fragrance for us. The lawn was recently cut I could tell, a task I liked to sometimes do for them whenever I could remember.

Pops cleared his throat, demanding my attention. “Nice of you to drop by.”

I smiled over at him. “Always a pleasure, Pop.”

His nostrils flared and I almost laughed. At fifty-five, he could still beat my ass if need be. Not that I would ever raise a fist to him. I loved him too much for that.

“Where were you last night?” he asked quietly, threading his fingers together as he leaned back in his chair comfortably.

I looked around and shrugged. “At the club.”

“I told you Monday I was giving you Friday off so you could have dinner with us,” Pops said.

I reached out, forgoing the pitcher of sweet tea and helping myself to some of the lemonade my mother had set out for her place at the table. I poured a glass and took a hearty sip, pretending to really muse over Pops’s words.

“I didn’t want a dinner. I wanted to work. That’s what I love, Pops, working,” I told him.

He breathed in through his nose and let it out. “You did this to spite me, and I won’t be a fool to believe otherwise.”

In the kitchen, my mother was hard at work preparing plates. The smell of her meal was fighting my stubborn anger.

I met my father’s eyes. “Maybe.”

“Isaiah.” He thudded a finger down on the tabletop.

“Middle name, huh? I haven’t been called that in a minute,” I joked. “I must’ve really gotten under your skin.”

“Are we going to be able to get past this?”

“I’m already past it. I work hard to make you proud, and I’m going to continue to do so,” I said simply.

He sighed, shaking his head. “Eazy.”

“I’m here, aren’t I? Water under the bridge,” I insisted. “You think I’m not ready, and I’ll just have to work harder to prove you wrong. No big deal.”

Pops studied me. “I don’t doubt you wouldn’t work hard, son. You’re a hard worker, and I’ll never think otherwise.”

“Right,” I agreed. “This is about something else. The whole happily-ever-after thing.”

Pops gathered his tea and took a sip. He glanced inside at my mother, his eyes softening at once and his mind going elsewhere. I followed his vision and looked at the woman he’d loved for more years than I’d been alive. Would I ever feel that way about a person? Love them more than myself? More than money? More than my pride and joy, BLVCKJVCK?

As Pops came back to me, I was very skeptical.

“Someday,” was all he said.

That was the end of it as my mother came out and handed me a plate of eggs and steak.

She eyed me and she eyed my father. “Did you two make up?”

“Wasn’t anything wrong,” I assured her.

She narrowed her eyes. “Uh-huh, don’t pull that shit again, Ezekiel.”

Pops got up, gesturing for my mother to sit while he grabbed the other plates to serve them.

That was one thing I could honestly say I admired about my parents’ marriage, they played Good Cop/Bad Cop well. They were a team, and when they were coming down hard on me together, I always folded.