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She released a sigh, and I looked down at her, finally about to ask her something that had been weighing heavily on my mind since I found out that she was pregnant. Something that my ole girl and my ole boy told me could possibly happen one day when it came to these bitches.
“I have a serious question for you, shorty. Was it really by accident that you weren’t properly taking your pills, or did you purposely do that shit? You’re a smart girl. You know what my future holds. You know about the fuckin’ recruiters knocking on my mama’s door, ready to sell their fuckin’ souls just to get me to sign with them. If everything goes as planned, you, along with everyone else knows that I’ll be in the NBA one day. Is this baby supposed to assign you a seat at the table?” I asked in all honesty.
She looked at me with pure disgust in her eyes like I’d disrespected the fuck out of her ass.
“Fuck you, Giovonte, with your arrogant ass. Here, you bastard,” she said, handing me something. “I came here tonight to give you this, maybe this would warm your heart and make you change your decision,” she spat, and then she turned around.
I stood there watching her as she walked away. When I saw her go out of the door, I looked down at what she’d given me. It was an ultrasound that indicated that Taylor was ten weeks and three days pregnant. I wasn’t moved by the picture. If anything, I was fuckin’ angry! I shoved the picture in my pocket, and I headed back because I was now ready to go.
“Boy, I was just about to head back there and get your ass! You were taking forever,” my ole girl fussed once I made it back to the table.
“My bad, Ma. Those meatballs messed up my stomach. Come on,” I lied.
She quickly stood up, and we walked out of the hall together.
“Wow, it’s a little chilly out here. Florida and this damn bipolar weather,” she said the second we made it upstairs.
Without even having to think twice, I removed the tux jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. We walked down the long, circular flight of stairs that were outside together.
“Thank you again, son, for tonight. I really enjoyed myself. I love you,” she said, turning around and looking at me.
I pulled her into me and kissed the top of her head like she’d done so many times to me before. If only she knew, we both needed this hug for what was about to come. If I told her now, it would fuck me up in these next few games before the championship so I would wait until after we brought our victory home. It would hurt her like a motha fucka, but she deserved to know what was going on.
Jashae Johnson
“Jashae, you still washing that grown man’s clothes? Girl, if you don’t teach Vonte how to wash his own shit! I had you washing your own damn clothes the moment your little ass turned thirteen,” my grandmother fussed per usual.
It was the night after homecoming, and she’d come over bright and early, waking Vonte and me up because she wanted to cook us breakfast. For whatever reason, my son wasn’t in the mood for her cooking, so she only prepared enough for her and me. Seems like these days, Vonte wasn’t in the mood for much of anything. Last night, he claimed that it was just his nerves, especially with these next couple of games holding so much weight.
If they lost, then it was no championship for him and his teammates. As his mother, I couldn’t help but feel like it was more to it than that. Vonte had been playing basketball since he was a kid, and games never made him shut down like this, no matter how important they were.
After my grandmother and I had eaten our breakfast, he came downstairs dressed in his workout gear, letting it be known that he was getting ready to do some laps around the block. That was almost fifteen minutes ago, so knowing my son, he wouldn’t be back for another thirty minutes or so. I didn’t want to start predicting stuff and turn out to be loud and wrong, but whatever had my son quieting down and not acting his usual self, I felt like it had something to do with that damn Taylor.
Usually, when he was at home, that damn phone was glued to his ear with him on the phone with her ass. I hadn’t seen him conversing with her lately. She wasn’t even at the homecoming dance last night. I hoped Vonte wasn’t shutting down like this because of a breakup because there would be plenty of Taylors for him to run across in his lifetime.
“That is not a grown man, Ma. That’s my baby. I don’t mind washing his clothes,” I shot back.
She was in my bedroom sitting at the ottoman when I’d come back inside the room carrying a laundry basket in my hands that were filled with Vonte’s clean clothes that I’d just finished washing. I dumped them out on the bed so I could fold them.
“You need a man. I bet you’ll mind then,” she snapped back at me.
“I have a man, Ma. He just happens to be in prison,” I let her know.
“That’s what you call Trip? What about Miami? I heard you and Mahogany talking about him the other day,” she said and set the magazine down that she was reading, so she could focus her attention on me.
“What about Miami? He and I are friends. On top of that, he used to be friends with Trip. I can’t jump from dick to dick, Ma. Who doesn’t know that rule?” I asked.
“Who said you’ll be jumping from dick to dick? Jump on Miami’s and stay your ass right there! Oh please, these trifling niggas fuck behind friends, sisters, cousins all the damn time. Besides, Miami and Trip fell out years ago. Miami is a good man. I love what he does for the community. Now, that’s a man. That Trip that you’re dealing with, he’s a lot of things, but a man isn’t one! That’s his prison sentence, Jashae, not yours. The hell are you punishing yourself for too? You didn’t do a damn thing wrong,” she went on to say.
This was beginning to sound like a broken record. It was always the same song and dance whenever she got some alone time with me.
“Miami is a good man. Too good of a man if you ask me, but I can’t do it, Ma. Somebody will get hurt in that situation. Trip is crazy, with nothing to lose. His little gang, Miami Boyz, is still very much in motion, so once word gets out that I’m dealing with Miami, somebody will die. I’m not about to tamper with that man’s livelihood, and I’m not doing it to myself either. I have a son who I need to be here for. I’ll just continue to lust after Miami from a distance,” I said, followed by a laugh.
I’d seen him on television a couple nights ago. They were interviewing him at one of the rec centers that he owned. I played with my toy that night, and when I came, I promised I had called out for Miami at least three times. We couldn’t take it there because we would be too dangerous for e
ach other.
After talking with my grandmother for another ten minutes or so and after I finished folding up all of Vonte’s clothes, I went up the stairs to take them into his room. His bed was made up, but he had clothes lying all around. My son knew how OCD I could be, yet he still chose to keep his room a mess.
