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“Cool. Be safe out there,” he said, and then we hung up.
For the rest of the drive to the mall, the only thing on my mind was the conversation that I’d just had with Chris. I knew that he and Billion needed to meet each other, but the way Billion was so damn snappy these days, now wasn’t the time.
“Ma, can I ask you something without you getting mad?” my son asked me from the backseat.
I turned the radio all the way down because I had a feeling that this would be one deep conversation.
We often had deep conversations. I remember when Lil Bill was old enough to actually understand what prison was and some of the things people did to get themselves put in prison. Once he understood that, then, of course, what followed was him wanting to know why his father had been sent to prison. I remember at seven years old, my son had asked me if his father was in prison for killing somebody.
Billion had always told me that when the time came, and our son wanted to know why he was sent away, he wanted to be the one to tell him the story. Until Billion told him, it was just my job to talk around the subject. I didn’t want to step on my baby daddy’s toes, especially since he wanted to be the author of his own story. Lil Bill knew the details, but he didn’t know big details about his father once being in the streets heavy, and I knew for a fact that Billion definitely had a few bodies under him.
For the most part, I didn’t like to hide things from my son, but I just hoped that he would not ask me something super deep and have me reveal something to him that I felt he wasn’t ready to know yet.
“What do you want to know?” I asked, looking at him through the rearview mirror. We were almost at the mall when he started this conversation.
“Is Khari my real sister? Like, is my dad her dad?” he asked, knocking the damn wind out of me with his question.
We were at a red light, and I squeezed the steering wheel, wishing I had some type of magic and that he had never asked me this question. But I made sure I never discussed Khari not belonging to Billion around my son. Even when I told the news to my mom a
nd to Roheem, I made sure I told them when my son wasn’t even home. That way, he wouldn’t sneak up on me and catch me talking about it. I had no idea how the hell he even knew about this.
“What made you ask me that?” I wanted to know.
“I been wanting to ask. I was just too scared to. The night of my great grandma’s birthday party, I heard when dad was talking to grandma outside the car. The back window wasn’t rolled all the way up, so I heard the whole thing. Daddy was crying, and he was mad, so I never wanted to ask. Then, another time, I heard him and Normani saying something about it. Is that true? I hope it’s not because Khari is the only little sister I got. I know Normani has a baby on the way, but still, I want Khari to still be my sister too,” my son said, and I could hear the sadness in his voice.
The crazy thing is, my son was a lot like his dad, and he hated to show his emotions. I remember a couple of years ago when he fell and broke his arm, I was the one crying, panicking, and carrying on as I watched him with an arm that was barely holding on. I knew my son was in pain, but he wouldn’t show it. When his father was still in prison, each time that Billion would do his daily phone call, after the call ended, Lil Bill would lock himself up in the bathroom for about ten minutes. When he came out, his eyes would be bloodshot red from crying because he wanted his dad to come home.
The fact that I could hear the sadness in his voice as he spoke, it brought sadness to my heart. I felt so bad because my son had been holding this in for months, and he was just now saying something about it. Billion told me at our son’s birthday party that he didn’t want me to say anything to Lil Bill about it. Although I had respected his wishes when he said it, I didn’t want to look my son in his eyes and lie to him either.
“A big part of me wants to tell you to ask your dad, but he’s already dealing with so much because of what happened to his uncle. What I will say is that the things you heard are right. Another man is Khari’s father, but that same man is the one who’s responsible for Denim being in the hospital. We don’t give him the recognition of being Khari’s real father because he’s a coward. I just want you to know that nothing changes. Khari will always be your little sister, no matter what. Think about it; since your great grandmother’s birthday party, have you and Khari not been around each other? Since the truth came out, has anything changed with your relationship with your sister,” I asked, and he shook his head no.
“But Denim was saying that she was going to move and take Khari far away. What if she takes her away? Yeah, Khari be getting on my last nerve sometimes, but I don’t want her to leave here,” he said, basically letting me know that he actually did hear the conversation that Denim and I had in her hospital room.
I released a sigh as I pulled my car into the mall.
“Denim is going through something right now, and she was talking crazy. You know your daddy is crazy as hell, and he won’t let nobody take his kids from him,” I said in a joking way, making my son laugh from the backseat. He knew his daddy was bat shit crazy, so he had every right to be laughing because he knew it was true.
I parked the car and then got out and opened the back door for him next. He climbed right on out. I pulled my son into my arms and kissed him on top of his head multiple times.
“Let the adults figure out this situation. You don’t have anything that you need to stress about because, like I said, you and Khari will always have a relationship. You’re a kid. Stay a kid and worry about kid things like football, video games, and all the other things that you like. Alright?” I asked.
I wanted to keep him in my arms for as long as I possibly could because I swear, after my son’s birthday, he hit that stage where he didn’t want me hugging and kissing him in public. I wanted to take advantage of him letting me hug him and not pushing me off him.
“Okay, ma,” he said.
I eventually let him go, and then the two of us walked into the mall together. The whole time I was at the mall with my son, all I could think about was the conversation I had in the hospital room with Denim. She just gave me vibes like she was about to be back on her old bullshit. Not only did that I get that from her, but I also got that she was talking from a place of hurt. I just got the impression that her actions would be reckless. That girl ain’t never said that she wanted to leave Miami a day in her damn life.
No, Denim and I had never been the best of friends, but that girl brags on her city, and I’ve heard her say on multiple occasions that she would never leave Miami. I could be wrong, but a big part of me felt like the only reason Denim wanted to get the fuck out of dodge was so she could have one up on Billion because he was married now. She had bigger shit that she needed to be putting all her energy to, though, like getting her mind and body right for the new baby she was carrying, being a good mom to the two kids she had now, learning how to walk again, and just mentally getting herself together.
“I love you, bruh. Everything gonna be straight,” I said to Billion with my hand on his shoulder. I wanted to give him a little bit of encouragement as we stood at the gravesite, watching the workers lower his uncle’s body into the ground.
The funeral had just ended about twenty minutes ago, and I swear there wasn’t a dry eye in the building. Malcom was a funny, Kevin Hart ass nigga who could make anyone who came in contact with him laugh their ass off. He wasn’t a street nigga like me, Billion, and Billion’s father. Malcom actually did the right thing by going to college to get his education, and instead of working for some ivy-league, top of the line kind of school, once he graduated, he came right back home and opened his track league right in Miami.
I’ve always had big respect for Malcom and looked up to him as a big brother. I used to joke with him and tell him that I aspired to be like him because he let it be known that he wasn’t settling down with no bitch, so he messed around a lot. I would only use that joke when Twinkle and I were going through some shit, and I would think that it was easier to just live life and not be committed to anyone.
Billion used to tell me how he was scared that a day would come when his uncle would be set up by a bitch, and some niggas would come and do him dirty. Although the shit didn’t happen like Billion had feared for years, it was damn near similar because he did die behind a bitch. A bitch in a full-fledged relationship. Now, I can’t speak for Malcom and say he didn’t know that shorty was cuffed because, honestly, I didn’t know. We probably would never know because all three of them were dead; Malcom, the bitch ass nigga Mack, and his bitch.
I can’t even say I was surprised that Billion and his daddy handled that shit because they loved Malcom on some real shit, and I knew they would go to war over him. I think that shit shook every nigga in the church today when we all had to witness Billion drop to his knees and break down in front of the whole church. For a man who didn’t even cry in front of one single person to just lose it and cry in front of everybody, I knew my nigga was hurting. It took me, his pregnant wife, his daddy, who was fucked up himself, and a few other niggas to help the situation.
