12. Kayshon
Me:
What’s good, Shari
After sending a quick text to Ashari, I walk out my front door and head to Kyce’s house for dinner. My mind has been on Ashari all day because although we’ve talked since I popped up at her crib, something has been off with her. Not to mention my raw emotions over my reaction to making love to Ashari after never having the experience before. The whole time I was deep-stroking Ashari, it felt like I was having an out-of-body event that my mind couldn’t reconcile. Love burst in every stroke, and my feelings for Ashari deepened, hitting me like a tornado. I damn near had to bite a hole in my jaw to keep myself from crying like a simp. I had no clue it would be like that, and it certainly gave me the reason to never hit Ashari from the back. As a matter of fact, that will never be a position shared between us.
“Well, look who’s gracing the family with his presence on this beautiful Sunday afternoon,” I hear as my feet hit Kyce’s driveway.
“Aw, did you buy the wrong size Fruit of the Looms again, little brother? I told you that 4T fits you best, so stop trying to fit into the extra small ones.” Without slowing my strides toward the front door, I taunt Jawaan’s crybaby ass.
“Wow. I should have known you would turn on me as soon as I saw the non-soprano assaulting mine and the twins’ ears. Damn. What’s the family coming to?” Jawaan says from beside me, causing me to peer over at him, unsure how he reached me so fast.
“The fact that I know how often your car isn’t hiding in your garage, I suggest you exit this line of questioning.” Hiking my brow, I smirk at Jawaan’s eyes ballooning before returning to their normal size.
“You talk too much, bro.”
With Jawaan being the baby out of the three of us, he’s also the most needy and clingy, so I’m not surprised by his reaction to Kyce settling down. I’m also expecting him to show his ass as things between Ashari and me progress. Jawaan takes a little while to warm up to the idea of other people infiltrating our dynamics. After Kyce and Masani got close, Jawaan damn near cried on my couch, thinking that Kyce would somehow change up on him. I had to talk him off the ledge, but I let him know that Kyce would still be his big brother and was only adding to our family. It's something I haven’t told Kyce, but I understand how Jawaan thinks.
“How about you and I go hang out after dinner for some brother time?”
Jawaan’s face becomes lighter and brighter as a cheesy grin upturns his lips, and his head bobs as he extends his hand toward me.
“Fuck yeah. I need to do something to keep you from following in this nigga’s footsteps,” he says, nodding toward Kyce’s front door as I ring the doorbell.
Peaches barks gruffly, causing me to laugh because while she has an aggressive bark, she’s anything but a threat. All Peaches is capable of doing is licking a robber to death, especially if they offer her spoiled ass a steak or beef jerky.
“Peaches… home,” Masani says before the door opens and she comes into view with one of the babies attached to her in a carrier. “Happy Sunday, little brothers.”
“You mean little brother because only this nigga is the youngest out of the three of us, sis,” I say, smiling, entering the house and leaning to kiss her cheek before removing the baby from the carrier. “Hey, uncle’s baby,” I say upon seeing baby girl’s eyes open, despite her not making a sound.
“Why did you get her knowing I was about to do that? I’m not sure why sis got her big tail in that carry thang anyway. She is a grown woman and is being stuffed in that contraption like a sardine,” Jawaan says from behind me as we continue into the house.
“See, this is why you don’t get to babysit that often because you be doing the most,” Masani says.
“Nah, that’s because you and big bro are haters. It’s cool because when I have my kids, I’m dropping them on y’all doorstep without invitation,” Jawaan adds.
“Why are y’all making all this noise on the Sabbath?” Kyce asks when we enter the living room as Mycah sleeps on his chest.
“This nigga. I’m guessing sis had you in church this morning and now you want to condemn us. I could have sworn Mama Lo said there is no condemnation w?—”
“Don’t be putting words in my mouth, Jawaan Young,” Mama Lo walks into the room saying as a wide smile covers her lips.
Masani’s mother, Mama Lo, makes Kyce, Jawaan, and me feel like we’re the sons she didn’t have. After losing my mom, it feels great to have Mama Lo and Ms. Aretha to fill in the gap sometimes. Mama Lo’s loving nature makes it hard to reject the love she selflessly provides me and my brothers. Ms. Aretha is the mother figure who will cuss us out, pray for us, and teach us some things we might be lacking individually. She’s given me a love for reading and has taught me how to cook. I love both women more than I’m able to admit or tell them.
“Good afternoon, guys,” Papa D greets, coming into the room before making his way to Jawaan and me for a quick one-arm hug.
Papa D is completely different than Lance, and I appreciate how he has the ability to step in and give us a father figure, which is causing me to see men in a better light. Lance was a devil I often wish wouldn’t have been chosen as my father. Papa D, on the other hand, frequently causes me to wonder if tigers can change their stripes because dealing with him makes me curious about the decisions I have to make.
“Aye, big bro, is Ms. Aretha coming fo—” Jawaan starts before the doorbell sounds, cutting off his words as he turns to answer the front door.
My eyes fall on my niece as I start kissing her forehead while shifting her body in my arms. Something about spending time with my nieces brings me a peace I often need, yet I can’t communicate with anyone although sleeping with Ashari in my arms the other night had given me the comfort I needed to silence Letitia’s voice in my head.
“Ms. Aretha in the house! Non-soprano in the house!” Jawaan shouts, and my head snaps up to see Ashari entering the room with Ms. Aretha.
“That’s not my name, boy,” Ashari says, rolling her eyes.
“Da hell it ain’t,” Jawaan says, laughing.
My pulse increases, and my breath hitches as my eyes rake over Ashari, who has yet to make eye contact with me, as she walks around the room greeting my family.
“Um, let me talk to you for a minute, Kayshon,” Masani says, snatching my attention as she gently grabs my forearm and urges me to follow her.
“Excuse me for stepping out of line, but I saw Ashari at church this morning and invited her to dinner. Seeing her with you over here the day you babysat the girls wasn’t the only reason for my doing so, but now isn’t the time for that. What I say is this… Sometimes what’s best for you doesn’t always know how to handle the things that come with you. Take it from me that whatever you can’t share with Ashari shouldn’t be something that becomes a secret that destroys what you could be building. While she might not be able to shoulder the burden, she should be aware of what she’s getting herself into.” With that, Masani takes Kiara from my arms and leaves me on the back deck with my thoughts.
“So, are we going to talk or just sit here staring at each other?” Ashari asks, snapping me out of the conversation Masani had with me earlier.
We’re at my house after leaving Kyce and Masani’s place, not long after our food has been consumed.
“I’m getting a vasectomy,” I blurt, shocking myself with how fast the words leave my lips because it’s not what I thought I would be sharing with Ashari.
“Say what?” Wrinkles instantly dance on her forehead as her face contorts and her top lip curls.
“I made the decision before you and I met. Kids aren’t something I want.”
“Wow. So what does this mean for me?” The bite in her tone has heat crawling up my neck because it’s the one thing I’m unsure of.
“If we’re gonna be together, you’ll have to adjust to it.”
Ashari’s head snaps back like I hit her as her mouth opens and closes several times while looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“So, to be with you, I’ll have to forfeit my desire to have kids. Wow. Why are you telling me this now instead of the day you asked me if I wanted children?”
“I see you in my future, but this is something I couldn’t wait until then to tell you.”
“Humph. With how you’re talking, I’m guessing your mind is made up,” she says as more of a statement than a question.
My mouth dries as a lump forms in my throat, and heat like a simmering pot of water increases my body temperature.
Have I made up my mind?
“I finally go see the doctor for my consult tomorrow because it’s been pushed back several times,” I say without confirming or denying which way I’ll go.
Nodding, Ashari stands and starts heading to my front door without saying a word as my blood pressure instantly elevates, and palpitations mingle with tingles in my chest.
“Wait, where are you going?” I ask, damn near frantic at seeing her retreating back.
“While I appreciate you saying something, it seems like there’s nothing I can say or do about this situation. At this point, I have to determine if you’re worth giving up my desire for. Until I can do so, it's best that I put a pin on this thing between us. Don’t pop up and don’t call me… I need time.” With that, Ashari walks out of my front door without looking back or slowing her strides.
I stand motionless with my front door open. Ashari’s words replay in my mind. My mood tanks, and my stomach falls to my feet. The food from earlier begins flipping and churning, causing a dull pain. Torment collides with turmoil as I blink away the urge to succumb to the defeat spreading across my chest. My mind freezes, and my feet are rooted in the spot for an unknown time.
“Aye, bro, are you good?” Jawaan asks coming from the right of me where his house is, yet words fail me, and shivers fill my body. “Come on, man. I got you.” The feeling of Jawaan wrapping me up in a one-arm hug causes my senses to take a nosedive.
“Fuckkk!” My throat burns as the single word shoots from deep in my belly. Stabbing pain causes my heart to falter.
For the first time since my mother’s death, tears fall from my eyes as defeat surrounds me like a warm blanket. Fog enters my mind as I struggle to process the idea of being without Ashari. Somewhere between seeing her for the first time and making love to her, she has put me and my heart in a chokehold.
“Shit! Come on, bro. Don’t do this to me,” Jawaan says, yet the numbness entering my body prevents me from responding. “Aye, get over to Kayshon’s.”
Damn. Am I really about to lose out on this woman because I’m not willing to become anything like my fucking sperm donor? This woman is the home I see and the joy I’ve not experienced before her. What the fuck am I gonna do? Damn. Do I ignore my reservations and give her a baby, only to slit my wrists when Lance surfaces within me? Oh God…
The swarming thoughts invading my mind have me trapped and unable to register anything around me. My limbs tingle with sudden fatigue as my heart aches, and my throat thickens, causing me to grab it as I feel like I’m suffocating.
“Shit! Breathe, Kayshon. Breathe.” Jawaan’s commands are faint in my mind as I’m helpless to follow his instructions.
“Not today, Satan. Father, in the name of Jesus.” Kyce’s authoritative voice pierces my mind as I feel his arms wrap around my body in a bear hug. “I ask you to step into this room. Father, You know what Kayshon needs right now. Right now, Satan, I come against your plans. No weapon… no defeat… no torment… shall be able to prosper. I cancel every assignment you’ve erected against Kayshon. I send it back to the pit of Hell from which it came. Take your hands off my brother… in the name of Jesus. Satan, you won’t win. I call Kayshon free. I call Kayshon blessed. I call him a child of the King.” Kyce’s words and the bear hug he’s giving me have me blinking as I come out of the dark hole I had fallen into and stare into his eyes.
“Ky—” I start but am forced to stop due to the raw burn in my vocal cords.
“I got you, man,” Kyce says.
“We got you, bro,” Jawaan adds, standing on the side of Kyce and me with a glossy sheen in his orbs that pricks my heart.
“What happened, Kayshon?” Kyce asks.
“She left me,” I whisper as pain stabs me in the chest at the reminder of what led to my breakdown.
“Y’all were just booed up at dinner,” Jawaan says, frowning.
“I’m getting a vasectomy,” I share with them for the first time since coming to the decision and scheduling my consultation.
“What?” Kyce and Jawaan ask simultaneously.
“Y’all know my history. I can’t let that nigga’s vile genetics sabotage whatever happily ever after I’m lucky enough to receive,” I say, hanging my head.
“Nah. You can’t let this nigga win. He’s taken enough from you, bro. Don’t allow him to have that too,” Jawaan says as his frown deepens, causing a small smile from me.
“I agree with little bro. Life doesn’t always grant those of us with shitty pasts a chance to do some shit over. Be better than that nigga and show the world that no matter who your bitch ass sperm donor is, you can be better,” Kyce says aggressively.
“Wow. You done pissed off the church boy. Like, how did you go from being deep and spiritual while praying to cussing like Bernie Mac at a Samuel L. Jackson cookout?” Jawaan asks, looking between Kyce and me as laughter echoes around the room, ushering in a light and airy feeling I appreciate.