SIX
I’ve only hated one man my whole life. The fucker who pimped my mama and knocked her up. Now, I dislike Davia’s man. All because I’m attracted to her. So what if she wants to come to my club? His ass needs to chill.
Arriving at the sober house, I push Davia from my mind, grab the lunch wrap, and walk inside, relieved to see my mama is still here.
“Hey, son.” She straightens from the group in the living room and comes over.
“How you doing, Mama?” I hug her tightly.
“Hanging in there.” She smiles at me as she eases back. “How are you?”
“I’m good. Brought you lunch.”
Her eyes twinkle as she accepts the grilled chicken wrap and soda. “Thank you, baby. Come out here.”
I accompany her to a table in the sunroom. She peels down the foil, bites into the wrap, then drinks a little.
“How is it here?” I ask with a glance over her appearance. She smells clean, wearing one of the jeans and a sweater I brought her. Her graying twists look fresh, like she washed her hair, and her dark eyes aren’t spacy. Still, anyone could tell she’s had a rough life from the scabs on her hands, the scars on her neck and face, and other imperfections of her umber skin. Black don’t crack, but hers did.
“All right,” she replies in her raspy voice. “I need my privacy, though. I could stay with you?”
“I won’t be able to keep an eye on you. Plus, it isn’t good for me. Your addiction affects me.”
She frowns and sets the rest of her lunch on the table. “You’re ashamed of me. I know.”
“It’s not that. I want you to be clean for good, Mama. You relapse every few weeks. I’m scared that one day, I’ll find you dead from an overdose.”
Blatant guilt fills her gaze as she lays her slender hand on mine. “I’m so sorry, Kross. I wish I were a better Mama. I fucked up your life so much when you were a kid. I’m so glad you could make something of yourself and have a normal life. I’m proud of you.”
Blinking back the tears before they fall, I stand and tell her, “I have some business to handle. I’ll visit you next week.”
She nods. “I’ll be here.”
“Promise me, Mama.”
“Yes, son,” she says with a serious expression. “I’ll be right here. Thanks again for lunch.”
Sighing, I wrap my arms around her in a tight embrace, making it lengthy should it be the last. With another glance at her, I take off from the sober house.
My real estate agent has been searching for locations that satisfy my requirements. I’ve saved a lot to build a home, and her text to meet in Hillsmere Shores has my hopes high.
Pulling up to the suburban area by Lake Hillsmere, I exit my car and approach Wanjiru, looking vibrant in her yellow pantsuit that complements her dark skin.
“What do you think, Kross?” She slants and points to the trees, some bare due to the cold season. “There isn’t a neighbor nearby. It’s quiet. Serene. It’ll be even more lush once spring is fully here.”
“I like it.”
“I know we’re outside of Baltimore. But it’s a great location and a good size—even slightly more acres than you requested. You’ll be right by the water. We have to move quickly on this one. So what do you say?”
“All in,” I approve. “This is where I’ll build my home. Please ensure that it happens.”
“You got it,” she says confidently, shaking my hand.
Mama G’s teaching about manifesting our dreams trickles in. I visualize the charming, white, modern-contemporary home with dark window trims, a chestnut-stained front door, and a two-car garage. It’s a fenced property with cherry blossom trees, a sizable backyard, an outdoor fire pit, and space for my kids and dogs to play. I also have a clear picture of my wonderful wife; we both support each other while sharing the highs and lows of life.
The problem with my vision is that I’m seeing Davia’s face, which might make karma side-eye me and snatch my dream away.