I chuckled. “I got you. I’m about to head out in a few. You don’t need my signature on anything, do you?”
She laughed. “Nigga, I been forging your signature for the last two years. I probably sign that shit better than you.”
I laughed at her seriousness and finished going through the various items in the box before heading out a little while later.
I didn’t have that much time, so I headed in the direction of Jade’s shop. On the drive there, the conversation with Lois replayed in my head, sending my mind to a past I had tried a million times to convince myself wasn’t viable.
“That’s not what I want, Oden. I had your child and I’ve been good. What about what I want?” Ashley whined while I stuffed my duffle bag for my flight.
“What do you mean about what you want? This big ass house and the thousands of dollars you spend weekly isn’t what you want?”
She sucked her teeth. “That isn’t fair and you know it isn’t.”
“Then tell me what fair is? I travel to work and you are only expected to care for our child. What? You want me to take her with me so you can do what?”
She sucked her teeth again. Another meaningless argument that would end with me bringing her something expensive home. A gift for doing absolutely nothing all day because our daughter was like a chore to her.
There were certain parts of Ashley that I was glad my baby would never remember. The parts I overlooked because I didn’t want my daughter growing up in the same broken home I had. Maybe not the same, because my mother was dead and my father wasn’t shit. Then again, now that I thought about it, had I already subjected her to my childhood?
I shook my head at the thought, focusing on the road. Ashley and I weren’t all bad, but we weren’t compatible. She didn’t want to work nor did she want anything other than to be kept. That was my fault though. I had come into our relationship one way and had this grand fucking reevaluation toward the end.
I parked in the lot across from the entrance to the mall Jade was in. When I entered, my first stop was to the fresh flower shop on the first floor. There I grabbed the lilac-lavenderassortment given that I knew she loved lavender and lilac, not only the colors but also the damn scents.
I paid a couple dollars and moved toward the escalator, feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw it was my brother calling. I answered immediately, mashing the phone against my ear in the loud and crowded mall.
“Yeah.”
“Where are you at? Cityside or out there in them sticks?” Kinga asked.
“Cityside. Remember, Aja had to go to school today.”
He laughed. “Right. I would’ve let her ass stay home. You know they don’t do shit on Fridays but those boring ass seminars and workshops. Talking about life skills; fuck outta here.”
I laughed. The fact that he had enrolled her into the school but hated it so much was baffling to me. “You’re a mess, you know that?”
“Probably. Anyways, next week I’m throwing Harlem a lil get together since Junior made his grand entrance the week of her birthday. Something lowkey and at the house and I’ma need you to handle the food. You know she doesn't really eat nobody’s food and I damn sure don’t want her cooking on her own birthday.”
I laughed. “I got you, next Friday?”
“Yeah. It’s going to be small and just us. Shit, I’m leaving that shit on Caya, and nine times out of ten, she’s about to call your girl if she hasn’t already.”
“Aight, that’s cool. Send me the menu and I’ll handle it.”
“Good look. I’ma hit yo?—”
“Ay, tell me something. I saw Wiley Ortega a few days ago at the restaurant. When I saw him and he saw me, he looked like he had seen a ghost. Shit creeped me out because I didn’t know who he was, and at first glance, his old ass looked like Sora. An older version.”
“Okay?” Kinga’s impatient ass asked, like he was edging me along with what I was saying.
“I mean I’m from Chicago, so I know who the old nigga is, never seen him before but I knew of him. Then, that night he questioned my staff, asking them who I was and what side of the city I was from, like he knew me or something.”
Kinga sighed into the phone, leading me to believe he knew something that he wasn’t saying. “When you get some time, we’ll talk. Don’t sweat that shit though. It’s small and nothing to be alarmed or worried about.”
Yeah, he knew something, but of course he wouldn’t say anything on a line. “Yeah, aight.”
“I’d tell you if it was some bullshit. It’s not. It’s nothing to carry.”
“Aight,” I agreed reluctantly. We hung up a few minutes later, me agreeing to come meet my nephew some time before next week.
