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Bishop was my next meeting. Again, I fit Chels in. She knew my time was limited and agreed to come anyway.
I nodded. “Let him in.” I figured I’d take that meeting in here since I hadn’t been able to make it back to my office.
Ava acknowledged my answer and backed out but didn’t close the door shut.
“Do you know how unreasonable that sounds?” Chelsea was back on my ass. “How is she supposed to have a life? Did you think she may possibly want to date? Are you going to scare him away, too?”
“I told Ashira she could date whoever she wanted.” I tossed my hand in the air. “Where’s the problem?”
Chelsea stepped closer, cowering over my general view, and placed her hands on the table. “The problem is you don’t have a say. She’s a grown woman, Jas. She can speak to whomever she wants. You can’t control her social life because you have a child with her.”
“I actually set that rule in place before Chivon was even a thought.”
My cousin’s mouth opened, and, at first, she was speechless. “You sound like Lenny. Remember how that worked out for him? Or Jamal, who scared Stacy away. She moved out of Harlem with June-June, afraid for her life! Is that the pathology you want to continue with?” she screeched, begging for reason.
My cousin, L-Boogie, was a stickup kid from St. Nick. He was now on Rikers Island, serving a life sentence for shooting his girlfriend, brother, uncle, and nephew in the head because the girlfriend had broken up with him. It was wild. Their shit was toxic from the gate.
J-Hammer was our second cousin. He did an eight-year stretch for slicing up his old lady’s face and beating her in the head with a hammer. He ran from the cops for a couple of weeks. When they found him, he was speeding on meth, coke, and some other shit, likely feeling remorse for what he’d done. The problem was he lunged at the cops, who then shot him to death. The nigga never made it to jail.
I cocked my head to the side. “Chels, you really wanna go there with me? You know them niggas were crazy out the womb. Let’s not go overboard.”
She scoffed. “I wish it was as simple as me overreacting. But you need to remember they were men you grew up around, your blood relatives. And if you’re out here wildin’ out violently over a woman who was once your lover, you need to be overreacting yourself.” I stared at her, not thinking it was wise to argue. She was upset. I didn’t want to exasperate her emotions. “Jas, you’re better than that—than them. You’re compassionate, caring, rational, and have a lot to lose. A whole lot more than you did when you went in the last time. I think it’s time for you to start remembering who you are when you’re dealing with Chi-Chi’s mother.”
A slight movement behind Chelsea had my head shifting to look toward the door.
Ezra had come in, rocking a long wool coat and fedora, holding a folder. His face was empty and pace smooth as he closed the door and placed the envelope on the table. Chelsea swung around, seeing we had company.
She groaned, turning away from Ezra, eyes closed in frustration. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t know we weren’t alone.”
Ezra removed his hat and coat, finding a rack to place them on.
My eyes swung over to my tensed little cousin, and I smiled. “You’re good. It’s my guy.” I thought again. “Then maybe not because…he’s that guy.”
Chelsea’s eyes squinted in confusion. She shook it off and whispered sadly, “I’ve got to get back to the clinic.” I watched her grab her purse and head to the door. She turned to me with a long face while gripping the handle. “I love you, cousin. And thanks for the boxes of printing paper. That’ll last us a while.”
I tapped my chest. “Anything for you, fam.”
She nodded, whole mood dejected, and walked out, closing the door behind her.
I sat up in my chair. “Minister,” I joked, going for my laptop to pull up the last email I got from one of my crews working on one of his many investment properties. Ezra had been playing hard in the real estate market for years now, building, investing, and renting properties all over the Tri-state area. He’d even been nearing the finishing stages of a surprise vacation home for Lex on the Jersey shore. He kept me busy with his projects, and I was grateful for his business and trust. “Always good to see you.”
“And I detect the Samson in you has risen.”
I froze. “Huhn?”
“Samson. The book by Atteberry? I haven’t forgotten that conversation we had a few years back about your fear of spiraling like Samson.” When I studied his face, somewhat recalling that conversation because—shit—Ezra and I kicked it a lot and almost about everything, he continued, “When you’d first become—” He glanced over his shoulder, ensuring the door was closed and lowered his voice. “—intimate, you feared breaking covenant with Qanna.”
My eyes blew the hell up. “Qanna, the jealous God? Word? We doing it like that, E?”
He smoothed down his beard. “I’m infusing humor here, still recollecting that conversation. Some people prefer to fear God rather than to simply understand His love for us. I believe you were panicking. You mentioned having made a covenant with Him by way of…” He dropped his head, looking to be thinking. “…celibacy. If I’m recalling correctly, this was just after embarking on your sexual relationship with Shi-Shi. You said something to the tune of fearing you were on Samson’s path of self-destruction because you’d reneged on your promise?” His face got tight, unsure about that last part.
But it caused something to click in my mind.
Promise…
The promise.
A chill ran down my damn spine, and my chest felt tight out of nowhere. Memories of feeling the pressures and joy from believing I was on a singular course with my Savior began returning to memory in spades. We’d talked about what my future would be like in that season. I’d been checking off goals from my list, feeling the confidence that could only come from being on one accord with Him. I felt at peace naming those things that were not as though they’d one day be true. I recalled resting in the favor of having His hand on my life. Where had that part of our relationship gone?
