“You wan’ stay wit’ me?”
I turned to my mother for translation.
“No, Emorey. He can’t stay, sweetie. He has to get going.”
Soon,I thought.
“Why?” She saddened. “Why you not wan’ stay wit’ me?”
Her big, glossy eyes and upside down smile had me by the neck. There was nothing in the world that I wanted more at the moment than to see that smile of hers again. Shit had gone from sugar to shit quickly, and I wanted it to go back.
“This nigga is toast,” Laike observed. Again, he was right.
“I do, Emorey. It’s just that I have some things I need to do. I’ll see you soon, though.”
“Really?” She cheered up instantly.
“Yes. Really. I’ll make sure of it, OK?”
“OK.”
Her little arms wrapped around my neck as she rested her head on top of the right one. I wondered if my mother and Laike could see my heart as it melted in my chest. Wrapping my arms around her was inevitable as she continued to hug my neck.
“Come on, Emorey,” my mother demanded, reaching out for her.
Reluctantly, she pulled her arms from around my shoulders and slid back into my mother’s arms. I was sad to see her go. She felt like she belonged in my arms, like she belonged to me. I couldn’t wait until she did. As an extension of her mother, she was technically already mine.
“We’re going to head out. I’m going to try to catch Pops before he starts his day.”
“He’s golfing today. You’d better hope you haven’t missed him already.”
“I’m going to stop by and see. If I miss him and you see him before I do, don’t tell him I’m home.”
“That’s asking a lot, Luca, so go try to catch him.”
I didn’t want to task her with keeping such a huge secret from my father, so I rushed out of the building with Laike in tow. We made it to my childhood home in the lower part of The Hills in only a few minutes. As I pulled my truck into the driveway, I watched my father descend the steps in front of our home with his hand on his hip. My old man hadn’t lost it, and he refused to get caught slacking.
“Watch out there, old man!” I rolled down the window and yelled.
Dropping his golfing gear, he took off heading in our direction. I opened the door and jumped out of the truck. Both with our arms stretched wide, we embraced and began rocking from one side to the other.
“Goddamn, man,” he kept repeating.
I heard the cracking of his voice as he continued to rock us both, not wanting to release me. It didn’t matter how old I got, there was nothing like my father’s embrace. For me, he meant security. For me, he meant love. For me, he meant stability.
When he pulled back, finally, I swiped the tears from his eyes, fighting those of my own.
“Don’t go sucker on me,” I teased. “What’s good, man?”
“I love you, son. Let’s start there. Shit, you ’bout to give your old man a fucking heart attack.” He held his chest as he attempted to catch his breath.
“Headed golfing?”
“Fuck that. When did you get out? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“’Cause then it wouldn’t have been a surprise. I got out yesterday and was waiting for y’all to touch down.”
“You seen your mom?”
