Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Hood
Damn, tonight might be a good fucking night. I wasn’t expecting Fumi to pull up on me. I’m glad she did because I’m tired of fighting my feelings for her. I rubbed my thumb across the back of her hand.
“You hungry?”
Fumi looked up at me. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Fumi laughed through the tears still in her eyes. “You’re really asking me if I’m hungry right now?” Her voice cracked just a little on the last word.
“I’m serious.”
She shook her head. “I came over here ready to pour my heart out to you... and you’re talking about food.”
“I know.”
Fumi laughed harder. “You ain’t changed.”
“I have.”
“How?”
“I would’ve tried to kiss yo ass ten minutes ago.”
She smiled. “You would’ve.”
“I would’ve.”
I shrugged. “Now... I’d rather feed you.”
Damn, Fumi looked at me as if I’d said something she wasn’t ready to hear.
“Oh, you cook?”
“I do now.”
She folded her arms. “I don’t believe you.”
“I’ll prove it.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
“I learned.”
“When?”
“In prison, my momma taught me a few things.” I grinned. “I ain’t had shit else to do but think... and learn.”
Fumi looked around my kitchen. “So... what can you cook?”
I shrugged. “A little bit of everything.”
“Mmm, I need proof.”
“Aye, you’re gonna get it.”
I walked toward the refrigerator. Without asking, she followed me and opened a cabinet.
“Why are your cups over here?”
I laughed. “You just got here... and you’re already rearranging my kitchen?”
“I’m just saying they would make more sense over here.”
I leaned against the counter. “Damn, there she goes.”
“What?”
“Fumi.”
“What about me?”
“You always gotta put your touch on something.”
She smiled without looking at me. “I do.”
“And I missed it.”
The silence settled between us, but our conversation was comfortable and easy. As if we’d never stopped being us.
“Do you have eggs, bacon, and cheese?”
“Yeah, I do.”
Fumi looked over her shoulder and smiled. “I’m cooking.”
I frowned. “I just told you I could cook.”
“You can, but tonight...” She smiled. “...let me.” I watched her move around my kitchen, opening drawers as she looked for utensils and standing on her tiptoes to reach a cabinet.
I never told her where anything was. She figured it out as if she belonged here. Damn... I almost lost this because I was stupid, not because another nigga was better, not because life got in the way. Because I wasn’t ready.
Now... watching Fumi barefoot in my kitchen, hair wrapped... rocking an oversized T-shirt. Humming to herself as she looked for a skillet... I realized something. This right here... was the life I’d been praying for. Not the vacations, fuck the jewelry and expensive cars. A nigga been had that.
I want this quiet, ordinary home life. I walked up behind Fumi, not close enough to crowd her—just enough for her to know I was there.
“You know something?”
“What?”
“I like seeing you in this house.”
Fumi stopped what she was doing and slowly turned around. “You know something?”
“What’s up?”
She stepped closer. “So do I.”
Neither of us said another word. We didn’t have to. Outside... the city kept fucking pushing. I heard a few cars pass up and down the street. I’m sure some neighbors were laughing somewhere down the block.
Shit, life went on, but in this kitchen, two stubborn people finally stopped fighting time... long enough to realize... that love had been patiently waiting for both of us to catch up.
By the time we finished eating, the microwave clock read 12:37 a.m. Our plates sat in the sink. The kitchen smelled of bacon and butter. Neither of us had touched our phones in over an hour.
We just... talked about everything and nothing at the same time.
“You still leave dishes in the sink.”
“I was about to wash ‘em.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Why are you judging me… I ain’t been here that long?”
“I absolutely am.” Fumi dried her hands on the dish towel and looked around the kitchen once more.
“I should probably go.”
I looked toward the window. Outside... the neighborhood was quiet. The only things moving were the streetlights and crickets. Not another car in sight.
“You ain’t going nowhere.”
Fumi looked at me. “Hood... It’s late.”
“I know.”
“I’ll be all right.”
“I know you will.” I folded my arms. “But you still ain’t leaving.”
She laughed. “You giving orders again?”
“I’m suggesting it. I’m asking you to stay.”
“Mmm-hmm. A strong one.” She shook her head. “I live twenty-five minutes away.”
“I know.”
“And?”
“And I don’t like you riding alone at this time of night.”
“I’ve been doing it.”
“I know. I’m just saying I don’t want you to keep doing it. You can leave in the morning.”
She looked at me for a long second. “You ain’t trying nothing slick, are you?”
I laughed. “Fumi... I’ve waited seven years. I think I can make it through one more night.”
She pointed her finger at me. “I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“You got a whole guest room.”
“Three of ‘em. There you go. But...” I rubbed the back of my neck. “...I’d sleep better if you stayed.”
She smiled. “You worried about me?”
“I’ve always been worried about you.”
Her smile softened. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll stay.”
Damn... Don’t smile too hard, nigga. I cleared my throat. I needed to act like I had any sense.
“I’ll grab you a T-shirt.”
“I already got one on.”
I laughed. “You do.”
The house had finally settled. I turned off the lights and the TV. Only the sound of the ceiling fan overhead. Fumi climbed into bed on the far side. I climbed into mine—enough space between us to fit another person.
She laughed. “You scared of me?”
“Nah. I’m respecting you.”
She rolled onto her side. “I appreciate that.” Silence. A few minutes passed. Neither one of us was asleep. “You up?”
She laughed. “You know I’m up.”
“I know.” Another quiet moment. “Hood?”
“Yeah? You bought this big-ass house for what?” I smiled in the darkness. “I been buying a lot of shit lately.”
She laughed. “I noticed. The Benz and the house.” She turned to look at me. “What are you trying to prove?”
I stared at the ceiling. “Nothing.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I spent six years with nothing. When I came home... I promised myself that if I ever got another chance... I’d build something nobody could take from me.” She listened without interrupting. “I ain’t buy this house because of you.” I looked over at her. “I bought it for me.”
She smiled. “But...” I smiled too. ...I won’t lie. I hoped one day... you’d walk through that front door.”
Fumi laughed softly. “I did.”
“You did.” Silence settled over us again. This shit between us was always comfortable, but it felt easy.
“Hood?”
“Hmm?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Always.”
“What?” She looked at me for a long moment before answering. “What would’ve happened... if I hadn’t come tonight?”
I didn’t even have to think about it. “I would’ve gone to sleep.”
She frowned. “That’s it?”
“Yeah.”
“And tomorrow... I would’ve kept living, working, building, praying, and loving yo ass.” She swallowed. “From a distance, though.” A tear escaped the corner of her eye, and she looked away as if she hated that it moved her.
“You really changed.”
“I had to.”
She reached across the space between us, found my hand under the blanket, and interlaced our fingers.
“Hood?”
“Yeah?”
“...Can you hold me?”
I looked at her, surprised. “You sure?”
She nodded. “I’m tired of sleeping without my peace.”
I closed the distance slowly, giving her every chance to change her mind. Fumi met me halfway, already decided. She rested her head against my chest. I wrapped one arm around her waist, nothing more. Nothing less.
“Thank you.”
She looked up. “For what?”
“For coming.”
She smiled against my chest. “Thank you... for waiting.”
I tightened my arm around her just a little. “You know... what? I prayed for this.”
She smiled. “I know.”
“Fumi… Would you be mine?”
“Yeah, I wanna be yours.”
“Forever?”
“Chase me to forever…”
“I plan on it.”
The room grew quiet again. This time... neither of us fought the silence. For the first time in a long time... it finally sounded like home.