Page 20 of The Wright Man

Not for that voice. Not for those eyes.

Not for the look she'd give me if she'd already forgiven me.

And definitely not for the one she'd give me if she hadn't.

"I'm thinking about a lot of things," I said.

Mr. Reed hummed like he knew every single one of them.

"Don't take too long, son," he said. "Life doesn't stop to wait for us to get our shit together."

I nodded slow. Let it sit. Let it sting.

The sun was lower now, pouring through the blinds in slanted strips. My half-finished beer sat warm in my hand, forgotten.

"Thanks for this," I said, voice rougher than I meant it to be.

He stood, pulled me in for one of those side-hugs that felt like armor.

"Don't thank me," he said. "Just don't disappear again. You know where the porch is. And you always got a seat at the table."

I told him I'd stop by again soon. I didn't say when.

He walked me to the door, just like he had that night years ago. The first time I left this neighborhood, a boy pretending to be a man.

Now I was back. A man carrying pieces of the boy who never quite made it home.

Outside, the air had cooled. The sky was streaked with pink and lavender, quiet settling over the block like a blanket.

I crossed the street slower this time. Stared up at the porch where Mama used to sit. The porch swing where she used to fall asleep curled up with a book she never finished. Where Kareem once played Spades with Cap and lost so bad he claimed the deck was cursed.

I climbed the steps and unlocked the door again, like it might feel different this time.

It didn't.

Same weight. Same silence waiting to be filled.

But this time, I didn't flinch.

I stepped inside, closed the door behind me, and let the memories hold me.

* * *

Maleek

When They Were 8...

It smelled like rain and Pine-Sol.

The lights were out because the storm knocked out the power again, but it didn't matter. Mama lit candles all around the house and the whole living room was glowing like it was magic.

Cap had to work, so Tina and Angelica were staying the night at my house.

Angelica was crawling across the floor, dragging three more blankets behind her like a little bossy spider. Her braids kept falling in her face, but she didn't care. She just kept talking.

"Don't mess it up! The roof has to drape, Kareem! DRAPE means it can't be tight!"

"Girl, shut up." Kareem groaned from the couch.