Imani #2
I’m definitely not an animal or outdoorsy girl but I love the beautify and peace in nature.
I picked that up from Imari. When he wasn’t working on cars or at races, he would hike or go fishing.
I accompanied him a few times but only as a spectator.
During those times, he and I would have deep or full of shit conversations.
I didn’t care either way; I just like being with my twin.
After finding a parking space at Greenway Park, I grab my phone and to-go bag then walk to one of the benches surrounding a unique all-wood playground set.
The playground is devoid of any kids because it’s in the middle of a school day but there are a few people walking what looks like a trail.
The air is perfect, cool and comfortable and I sit and enjoy it while eating this sinful cake.
Aside from the obvious, this day has been perfect.
The vibration of my cell in my pocket causes me to put my cake down too damn fast, causing me to shake my head as I pull it out. My smile momentarily fades when I see it’s not Daymir but quickly returns when I see that it’s my dad.
“Hey, daddy.”
“I caught you,” he says.
“Daddy, I always answer when you call. What’s going on? You called to brag about the beautiful beaches in Florida?” I tease.
“Not today. It’s ugly out there. They say we might get a hurricane this weekend,” he says as if that’s not a big deal.
“This weekend? It’s already Thursday. Are ya’ll evacuating today?” I ask, really concerned. Panama City is a beach town. Water is everywhere. They need to leave.
“Nah, Sugar. We’re not leaving. They are just predicting a category one. We have a generator, cases of water, and your momma got enough food in here to feed an army. We’re staying and we will be fine.”
“Are you sure, daddy?”
“Yes. We are fine.”
“Okay but I’m going to check the weather channel,” I assure him. “Where’s momma?”
“Taking a nap. She battled it out in them stores,” he says with a chuckle. “She was not leaving without her sardines, hot sauce, and saltines.”
“Daddy, I know she got more than that.”
“Barely. You know she loves those nasty ass fish,” he says and we both laugh.
My mom really does love sardines and crackers.
She eats it almost every other day. I can do anchovies.
They are a base to a few good sauces I cook but sardines are a no for me.
I just can’t get with them. “Is it raining there?”
“No. no rain in sight. It’s actually a perfect day; I’m sitting outside in a park.”
“You had today off?”
“Yes,” I lie. Bringing up my non-existent job and severance would only worry him for no reason and my parents have been through enough.
Hell, we all have. I’m not going to burden them with my shit, especially since I know that I’ll be fine.
In a few months, I’ll find another job. There are surgical clinics in Crescent Falls and hospitals in the surrounding towns.
“So, I took a drive and when I head back, I’m taking my car to get detailed. ”
“Sounds like a relaxing day.”
“It is.”
“Well, you enjoy it, Sugar.”
“I will and daddy, I’m going to be watching the weather channel.”
“We are fine. Don’t worry about us. I love you.”
“I love you too, daddy.”
As soon as I end the call, I check the weather and storm tracker. Hurricane Paco is heading for the Florida panhandle and expected to be a category one when it hits landfall. I'm going to keep checking though because hurricanes can be unpredictable.
After checking the weather, I go down a rabbit hole on Skroll watching cooking videos.
Before I even realize it, an hour has passed and I’ve smashed half of my giant cake slice.
I swear they cut one fourth of a whole cake.
It’s time to head back. So, I look up gas stations and see that it’s one on this same exit.
So, I pack up my remaining cake then head back to my baby.
At the station, I fill up and grab a bottle of water from inside before getting back on the road.
This time, heading back home. When I’m two hours into my drive and forty-minutes from Crescent Falls, my phone rings.
The screen on the dash displays Daymir. He’s finally calling.
For a moment, I debate if I should answer.
He stood me up and had me waiting for his call all last night and this morning.
He can fucking wait.
My pettiness, anger, and disappointment prevail and I don’t answer him at all. I let it go to voicemail then shrug. Seconds later, he’s calling again and this time, I answer but after the third ring.
“Hello,” I say as dry as I can.
“Hey,” he says somberly. “Where are you?” he asks as if things are cool and copasetic with us.
Things aren’t.
“Is that what you really want to say to me, Daymir?” I snap.
“No. I have a lot to say. Can I come over?”
“You were supposed to come over last night and pick me up for our date or did you forget that?”
“It’s not that simple. Can I just come over so we can talk?” he pleads, his tone still somber and heavy.
“We’re talking now.”
“Not over the phone. Look, I’m coming yo’ way.”
“I’m not home.”
“Then, where are you?”
“I’m out, Daymir.”
“Then, I’ll be at your place when you get back, Imani,” he says then has the nerve to end the damn call.
“I know he didn’t just... This nigga,” I scream as I shake my damn head.
My frustration translates to speed and my forty-five minutes remaining decreases to thirty, thanks to my baby.
Her smoothness on the road makes a hundred miles per hour feel like sixty on the highway.
I don’t let off my gas pedal until I reach the city limits and exit for the gas station.
This time when I fill up, I buy one of the dd9 pens from behind the counter.
Weed is legal in Crescent Falls and some of the convenient stores carry the pens and vapes from High Timez.
I love the disposable Delta-9 pen. I don’t smoke all the time but sometimes, I just need something to chill me the fuck out.
My last dd9 pen died two months ago and I never bought a new one.
Something tells me I’m going to need to be chill in order to deal with Daymir.
As soon as I’m in my ride, I hit the pen once, long and slow but just one pull.
I’m a lightweight. More than one will have me too mellow and three will have me on my ass.
By time I turn into my community, the D-9 is coursing through my veins, my body is all warm and fuzzy, and I’m chill as hell.
It’s a good thing because his big ass SUV is parked in my driveway.
I press my button on my garage and as it opens, I creep past his SUV and pull inside. In my rearview, I watch as he gets out on his driver side and a little boy climbs out on the passenger side.
He brought somebody’s child with him? What the hell? I hate games and I hate manipulation. Don’t bring a child with you to curtail my mouth or rage. Be a man and face me.
After letting out a pissed off breath, I kill my engine then open my door.
He says something to the little boy, then leaves him in front of his SUV while he walks into the garage.
Before he can say a word, I open my door and get out.
At the same time that Daymir crowds me, I hear the little boy call out.
“I’m hungry. Can I get my food?” he asks and my eyes follow his voice.
My eyes meet his hazel ones and I’m pretty sure that my lip hits the damn ground. This isn’t just a little boy; he’s Daymir’s little boy. An extremely younger, smaller, more adorable version of Daymir’s handsome face is staring back at me.
His twin; he obviously had a son. Why did he keep that fact from me? To say that I’m shock is an understatement. I’m floored.
“You have a son?” I grit lowly, almost in a whisper. It’s not a question though; it’s a mind-blowing statement because he can’t deny this cute little replica of himself.
Instead of answering me, this lying nigga answers his son. “Your food is in the back seat. You can sit back there and eat it. I need to talk to-”
“You can eat in the house,” I say to the little boy, cutting his daddy’s ass off. Daymir tries to say something else but I walk off and step to his son. “Hi. I’m Imani. What’s your name?”
“DJ,” he says.
“You want to eat inside of my house? It’s getting dark out here.”
“Can I?” he asks his daddy but I answer.
“Of course, you can. Let’s get your food.
” I had to answer because I really don’t want to hear Daymir’s voice again right now.
Truthfully, I can’t hear him because if I do, I will have to curse his ass out.
I don’t want to do that in front of DJ, his son.
“What do you have?” I ask as we get his food.
“A cheeseburger and macaroni-n-cheese,” he says excitedly.
I open the door and grab the white plastic bag from the SUV.
He reaches for it and I give him the bag.
We walk inside of the garage, on the right of my baby, so we can avoid Daymir.
He doesn’t say a word but his glaring eyes stay glued to us all the way to my door.
Just in case he confuses my hospitality to his son for any grace extended to him, I turn to Daymir before I open my door.
“You can stay out here. I’ll be back,” I say.
Then, I open my door, turn off my alarm, then walk in, followed by DJ.
The garage door leads right into the kitchen.
“You need to wash your hands before you eat,” I tell DJ.
“You see that door at the end over there by the stairs? That’s the bathroom.
You can use that while I get your food together, okay? ”
“Okay,” he says while nodding.