17. Kayshon
“Are all of you married?” I ask, looking around the group of men surrounding me and my brothers.
“Yeah… married with children in the chokeholds that our women dropped on us like a WWE match,” Nino Bellamy says, shaking his head like his wife twisted his arm despite the light in his eyes.
“Ignore this emotional nigga. His ass loves the dirty drawers his wife smacks him with,” Gavyn says, smirking.
Tonight, Kyce, Jawaan, and I are kicking it with Caine, Nino, and Gavyn Bellamy because Ashari and I needed to spend time with our people. I love my woman, but I never want to get so lost in her that I don’t know how to breathe without her. I also don’t ever want her to feel like I’m suffocating or smothering her. Nor do I want her to feel like being with me means losing herself in what we have. I’m not an insecure nigga, so I don’t have to eat, sleep, and fuck my woman while sacrificing our independence.
“How is it that we all live in the same city, and this is the first time we’ve met?” Jawaan asks.
“Sometimes the plans of Big Homie are a mystery until it's necessary to be revealed. Obviously, He felt the need for us to link now,” Nino says.
“Oh, look at the wannabe best friend Big Homie will never confirm,” Caine interjects, causing everyone but Nino to start laughing.
“I want to laugh too. How about I come join this group of masculine perfection?” a female voice says, halting our laughter as everyone’s eyes fall on the unknown woman.
My lips curl into a snarl at seeing the woman standing at the entrance of the area we’re in at Ty-Walt’s Clouds of Rhapsody .
“How about you spend more time investing in some shit that will regulate your PH balance, because the whiff of your pussy has my dick shriveling up like a baby turtle,” Jawaan says, frowning.
“Hell yeah. Walking your rank ass over here with those heels leaning to the side with your pinky toe looking like it wants to play peek-a-boo,” Nino adds.
Shaking my head, I fight the urge to laugh as the woman’s face drops, and her eyes fill with anger. Before she can say something, Kyce speaks up, attempting to soften the blow from Jawaan’s and Nino’s statements.
“No disrespect, little mama, but it’s just the fellas tonight. Besides, we’re all spoken for,” Kyce says.
“Shidd, no we all ain’t, but my dick ain’t never been desperate enough for the likes of her,” Jawaan says.
“Man, I’m adopting you into the Bellamy clan as a cousin because I can fuck with you,” Nino says.
As if the woman isn’t still standing there, conversation resumes, forcing the woman to stomp away. All of us laugh at her retreating back. Being in a relationship has a new meaning, and nothing in me makes me wish for my status to return to singlehood. Ashari is also not a woman who I’ll ever be cool with letting go of, so there’s that.
*bzz, bzz*
Feeling vibrating in my pocket, I pull my phone out as warmth and electricity spread throughout my body when I see Ashari’s name on my screen.
“Nah. Tonight is about us, fellas. We left the ball and chains at the crib. Come on, man,” Nino says dramatically.
“Oh, here comes the bullshit.” Caine shakes his head as Gavyn smirks.
“Don’t let this man have you licking and sucking pussy tonight to erase the unease your woman gets when you don’t answer,” Gavyn says.
“Yeah, bro. You’re too new to ignore little sis,” Kyce co-signs.
I prepare to say something before another single vibration flows through my hand when another message comes through.
“I agree with our new fam. She’ll be all right. Stall her out,” Jawaan says.
“Remind me to give you this same advice when love gut-punches you and has you swinging at the air the first time your woman humbles your ass,” Kyce tells Jawaan.
Shaking my head, I unconsciously unlock the phone, and a shit-eating grin upturns my lips upon seeing what Ashari said.
Ashari P:
I know we agreed to let today be for our friends and family, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need to end the night in my bed.
Besides, I’ll miss the feel of your dick thumping against my ass in the middle of the night.
“Aye, I hate to?—”
“Nope. Take this nigga’s keys because ain’t no leaving early and shit. It’s bro time. We ain’t doing this shit. You can go home when we all go home. One man… one sound,” Nino says, cutting me off while causing our group, including me, to laugh boisterously.
When everyone, including Kyce and Caine, who seem to be the more levelheaded out of our six-man group, nods in agreement, I lock my phone and wave the waiter over for another round of drinks.
“I’m forewarning you that if this delay causes me to sleep alone, I’m siccing Sassy on your ass,” I say to Nino, whose face twists.
“Who the fuck is Sassy? I got enough problems with Ariana Bellamy. I ain’t about the side piece life, my boy,” Nino asks.
“Don’t worry. The only thing you’re in jeopardy with Sassy is a sore leg when she pops her back like a broke down stripper,” Jawaan provides.
“Oh shit! Nah, I’m cool on all that… although,” Nino says, rubbing his chin as Kyce provides more context.
“Sassy is Kayshon’s Doberman, so unless you have a fetish, that will cause me and my wife to go on a seven-day fast to free you of your demons for good there is nothing for me to worry about,” Kyce says.
As the conversation continues, my mind returns to Ashari and the thought of her lying in bed, awaiting my arrival. Without having a key, I know she’s liable to cuss me out if this gathering goes later and I have to wake her up.
Hold tight, Shari. If I have to fake a stomachache, I’ll be there soon.
A month later…
“Aye, bro, can I ask you a question?” I ask Kyce while walking with him around our neighborhood as he pushes the twins in the double stroller.
“I’m listening.”
“Given everything we endured, how did you handle becoming a father? Is this shit worth it?”
The more time passes, the more the date approaches for my vasectomy, and doubt enters my mind by the second. Thankfully for me, an abundance of men want to get their dicks snipped, which meant my appointment was scheduled for months out. I have been conflicted about the decision since my initial appointment and the encounter with Pastor Reese. Discussing the topic with Ashari has been something I’m avoiding, only because I know her feelings, and I don’t want to rock the boat. Knowing that Ashari wants to have my babies doesn’t make me feel the need to cause her any pain or anxiety by talking about it with her.
“Our upbringing is the most unorthodox and toxic. Most people won’t understand, nor do they have the ability to comprehend. I remember thinking that the sins of my past would always prevent me from obtaining a loving future. Hearing Masani’s voice while fighting through the darkness during my coma was the first time I felt God’s love for me. I couldn’t wait to knock her up with my babies.”
For a second, I replay Kyce’s words in my mind as Lance’s angry face flashes in my mind. My hands ball into fists at his audacity because this is the first time Lance has surfaced in all my memory flashes.
“My DNA is so fucked up that the thought of being a dad damn near chokes me, bro.”
“Let me ask you this then. Are you willing to forfeit God’s plan for your future because of the stain within your past? I get it. Believe me, I do, but are you honestly cool with giving your bitch ass father that much power over you? Is the thought without proof of his demons worth the fracture of your heart when Ashari permanently walks away?”
My breath hitches, and pain stabs me in my chest at hearing Kyce’s last question as I swallow continuously to push the lump in my throat through my esophagus.
“Here’s something else for you to chew on. Although you have never said, I know you and Rema had some shit between y’all. For me, fucking Rema was something that, in an extremely unhealthy and dysfunctional way, made the absence of my mother lessen. Yet, there were multiple times I prayed that my nut wouldn’t latch onto her opportunistic eggs.”
“Oh shit!” My voice elevates as my feet stop moving when I hear unexpected information from Kyce that I never knew.
“I never strapped up even when I was old enough to understand what raw sex could lead to. I always silently begged God not to give me a child through the loose pussy bitch I often released my nut into.”
Kyce’s aggressive tone and cussing without hesitation have me staring at him as my brain spins on its axis.
“I n-never busted in her raw, and fucking her was something I did, even on the heels of her being with someone else,” I say.
“If nothing else, Rema Gardner knew how to play on the dysfunction our natural families left behind. What’s always been interesting to me is that she knew what our weaknesses were long before we did.”
Nodding, I wordlessly agree as we resume walking, and I allow silence and the noise in the neighborhood to provide a backdrop necessary for my thoughts. It's wild that Rema didn’t have confirmation of my aversion to reproducing, yet she lied about being pregnant. My mind goes back to thinking about Lance and his shit that, even years later, is still causing him to be my puppet master. In a split second, Ashari’s image pushes Lance’s face out of the way, and I damn near trip over my feet at the sight of her.
“Mhm. God is always on time,” Kyce says when I grab the stroller to keep myself from falling.
The next day…
“You have a nice house, Kayshon,” Mrs. Weeks says.
Smiling, my arm tightens on Ashari’s waist as we walk onto my back deck, where the fireplace is already going. Ashari’s parents and sister are at my place, so we can meet and get to know one another. Instead of having Ms. Aretha prepare the meal we just consumed, I made some baked spaghetti, a Caesar salad, and homemade garlic bread to allow myself to host without pressure. It’s also crucial for me to get to know the Weeks without including my family in the mix. There will be plenty of time for a whole family get-together, but for now, I want Ashari’s parents to see the type of man they can be comfortable with their daughter attaching her life to.
“Thank you, Mrs. Weeks,” I say as Ashari and I sit on the lounger across from her people, and her mother frowns.
“While I appreciate the respect, please call me Mrs. Ashanti. My mother-in-law often made me call her Mrs. Weeks, and I have a little PTSD every time I hear that name,” Mrs. Ashanti says.
Nodding, I acquiesce to her request because if no one else understands PTSD, I do and could write a book on the shit.
“Let it go, Ashanti. Momma meant well. She just didn’t know how to?—”
“Pull your lips from her wrinkled ass titties,” Mrs. Ashanti says, cutting her husband off as Ashari giggles, and I fight to prevent myself from joining in on her humor.
“Lord, can we please talk about something else?” Amari says, shaking her head.
A sense of contentment fills me at Ashari’s back resting on my chest and the lighthearted atmosphere surrounding my backyard.
“Let’s talk about when these two are gonna give us some grandbabies. With you gallivanting around like a chicken head, I doubt you’re gonna settle down any time soon,” Mrs. Ashanti says as Ashari stiffens against me, and my body fills with tension.
This isn’t a question I want to discuss, nor is it something I expected, with this being our first official meeting. Silence echoes around the area as familiar barking pierces the air, letting me know Jawaan and Cleo are somewhere close by. Somehow, Sassy has gotten comfortable being at Kyce and Masani’s house, which makes me happy with Ashari and me spending more time in each other’s beds.
“Uh, so neither of you are gonna answer? I need to have something to discuss with my girls other than how Jeffrey snores louder than a polar bear,” Mrs. Ashanti says after neither Ashari nor I speak on the current topic.
“It’s too soon,” Ashari says lowly.
The uncertainty within her statement causes a pang in my chest as I subtly squeeze her waist before kissing her neck.
Damn, I’ve got to put Ashari at ease because this right here ain’t gonna work.
“The better question should be when this nigga is gonna stop buying the milk for free. Hell, if I’m being honest, I want a ring before a burp cloth,” Mr. Weeks interjects.
“Right. I want to be the bridesmaid-zilla that causes Ashari to lose her shit,” Amari says, effectively shifting the tense air around the deck.
“Before I could ever ask Ashari to give me an eternity with her without?—”
“Getting an up close and personal glimpse into gatherings and shit post-wedding. I don’t blame you because this one time at?—”
“You better not say band camp, or I promise I’m kicking your ass out of here.” Ashari cuts her sister off as everyone but me laughs.
“What am I missing?” I ask.
“Oh, nothing other than Amari’s infatuation with the American Pie movies that causes her to randomly chime in with a Michelle band camp analogy, even when the situation doesn’t call for it,” Ashari says, shaking her head.
“I blame you for that because had you not put the movie on to pretend like you were grown, she would have been normal,” Mrs. Ashanti says to Ashari as my brows hike instantly.
“Oh, this sounds like a story I need to hear,” I say.
“Nah, I can only handle hearing about it once, and I still want to find the nigga to see if Edward Scissorhands is the only man skilled enough to wield cutting weaponry,” Mr. Weeks says, frowning deeply as I subconsciously cross my legs at the ankles.