Chapter 2
“This isn’t what I want anymore. Between your demanding career, the hos continuously smiling and drooling in your face or picture, your daughter clinging to you every waking second, taking away from our time, and just being over this whole relationship . . . I need my life back.”
“How the fuck can you talk about needing your life back when you’re somebody’s mother? You did—”
“Look, I don’t have time to go back and forth with you. Now, I’ve already gone to the courts and surrendered my parental rights, so she’s yours. The two of you ca—”
“Hold up. You did what? Tell me I’m staring into the silly eyes of dude who plays practical jokes on people, because I know you ain’t standing here telling me th—”
“I don’t want to be your woman or her mother anymore. It’s time that I start living for me.”
Lava replaces the cool current of blood flowing through my body as I stare into the bored expression of the woman I’ve known most of my life.
Meshay is rolling her eyes and tapping her foot covered in the three-hundred-dollar stilettos she purchased with my black card two weeks ago.
The audacity of this woman is Guinness-worthy as the adoration I have for her melts like an ice cream cone in the Caribbean.
“What am I supposed to tell M—”
“Ugh. I don’t care what you tell her. Now, I gotta go. Time is money, and you don’t have enough to keep me here any longer.” With that, Meshay sashays out the front door without looking back, taking my attention to the blacked-out luxury vehicle idling in my driveway.
“This bitch just fucking left her daughter like she didn’t go through twenty hours of labor to bring her into this world. Wow.”
“Evans! Where is your gotdamn head at today?” Coach Sumlin’s hard-edged voice snaps me out of my head, reminding me of my whereabouts.
Looking around, I take note of my teammates laughing and joking behind Coach Sumlin, who looks like he’s seconds from kicking my ass.
“My bad, C—”
“Get your shit together or get the fuck off my field. You can’t play like this during a game, or you’ll be the weakest link on my defense, and I’ll be damned if I employ any weaklings.
Hell, I bet little Mica could tackle better than you are right now,” Coach rants, pointing toward the sideline which has my gaze shifting in the direction he’s pointing.
An old-school song about someone being the sunshine of the artist’s life starts echoing in my head when my eyes connect with the mahogany-skinned beauty who lights up my world.
Mica Evans is the apple of my eye and the person I play this game for.
She’s my reason for getting out of bed after my body has taken a beating in practice or on game day.
With her trifling ass mother walking out on her, I have to hold it down in every area of her life so she never feels a sting of rejection.
“Damn. Now you’re daydreaming, Evans. What the fuck is wrong with you today?” Coach Sumlin’s voice cuts into my thoughts while shifting my gaze from Mica.
“I’m—” My mouth clamps when Coach throws his hands up, walking away mumbling incoherently as Rick runs over to me.
“You good, bro? You’ve been running around the field letting the O-line skate past you like you got two left shoes or something,” he says, smirking.
Rickey Sellers is not only my teammate but also my best friend and has been since we played college football together. It was only an act of favor that the two of us were drafted to the same professional team.
“The skeletons in my closet have a funny time to fall out and become visible. I’m cool, though.”
“Hm. Maybe you need to let one of the loosey goosey tramps—”
“Nah. I ain’t on that type of time, and you know it. My only focus is—”
“Sellers. Evans. Unless y’all want to spend three hours after practice doing burpees, I suggest y’all remember that this ain’t social hour,” Coach Sumlin shouts, instantly ending the conversation between me and Rickey.
I did my best through the rest of practice, but it wasn’t my best day.
My daughter wasted no time telling me so once practice was over too.
“Daddy, you didn’t play good today. If you keep playing like that, I can’t brag to my friends about you being a football player.
Mr. Sumlin’s face was so red when he kept yelling at you.
Did he hurt your feelings? He hurt mine, yelling so loud.
” Mica’s face is pinched, and there’s a deep frown covering her lips, bringing warmth to my chest as I figure out which part of her statement to address first.
“Your dad’s feelings are made of Teflon, so I’m sure he’s fine, Little Bit,” Jaleel says before I have a chance to respond.
Jaleel is my brother and Mica’s caretaker when I have football business such as games and practices to handle.
Our mom passed a few years ago, so it’s just the two of us, and I’m happy that Jaleel thinks enough of me and his niece to make sacrifices for us.
He moved in to help me so that I didn’t have to worry about going through the daunting process of finding a nanny or babysitter for Mica.
I appreciate him more than he knows. Despite him being my brother, I pay him handsomely for helping me out because I never want him to go without due to his sacrifice.
With the new season gearing up, I’m not able to be hands-on with Mica as much as I am during the off-season, so Jaleel is making my life so much easier.
“What’s Teflon?” Mica asks, frowning, causing Jaleel and me to laugh from the expression on her cute face.
“It doesn’t matter. To answer your question, I didn’t play like Coach wanted, so I had to deal with the consequences. Remember I told you that when you do something wrong, you always have to deal with—”
“Getting in trouble. Yes, sir. I remember. Do better next time, Daddy. You looked bad today, and we can’t have that,” Mica says.
“You’re right, Cupcake. I’ll do better next practice. Now, what are you eating tonight?”
Jaleel, Mica, and I are out at a restaurant because cooking is the last thing I feel like doing after a long and gruesome practice. I’m gonna leave it up to the professionals tonight and hope I don’t have to micromanage whatever selection Mica chooses this evening.
“I’ll take the spaghetti and meatballs tonight. For dessert, can we go to the ice cream place? I want a strawberry sundae with sprinkles.” Mica’s hazel eyes that match mine, glow and sparkle with merriment, causing a small smile to form on my lips.
“Can she?” I ask Jaleel, who lifts his gaze from his phone before placing his index finger on his chin.
“Aw, man. Come on, Uncle J. I’ve been good, and I didn’t bedazzle your shirt like I wanted to this morning,” Mica pleads.
“You’re right. Okay. She can have ice cream. Which reminds me. There’s a bookstore she wants to go to and has been bugging me about, but I draw the line at that. So, that will be a task you’ll have to handle with her,” Jaleel says, looking toward me.
A sigh escapes my mouth at that last piece of information because I know it’s going to be quite the excursion.
Mica loves all things reading, and while I can appreciate it, I also know that trips to the bookstore with her aren’t quick.
My baby girl can get lost between the aisles of a bookstore like most women get lost in a clothing store.
“Alright. I’ll have to see wh—”
“No, Daddy, please don’t make me wait. I want some new books, and this bookstore looks like they have it,” Mica adds with her puppy dog eyes on full display.
“Alright, Cupcake. Alright. I’ll take you on my next off day. Stop pouting.”
“Thank you, Daddy. I love y—”
“Mhm. I hear you.” Smiling, I pick up my menu to determine what I plan to eat for dinner while considering my desire to avoid fried and greasy foods. “How was your day before you came to my practice, Cupcake?”
“It was good. I finished reading one of my books, did my baby’s hair so she could look like me, and then Uncle J told me it was time to get ready,” Mica tells me animatedly.
My heart stretches as warmth envelops me while watching my baby girl as she talks about her day. I’ve done a lot of things wrong in my life, but Mica will always be my greatest accomplishment.
“Mhm. Tell him how you almost got everything taken because you didn’t want to listen,” Jaleel adds.
A low chuckle escapes my mouth when Mica’s mouth opens and closes as her eyes balloon due to Jaleel letting the cat out the bag.
“I was coming. I just had to finish Dollie’s hair first and you were being impatient,” Mica says.
“Use it in a sentence,” Jaleel counters.
“Huh?” Mica’s brows wrinkle, and her eyes pinch while staring at Jaleel.
Sitting back, I watch the show because Mica and Jaleel seem to forget they’re not the same age, and no matter how much I try to steer them in the right direction, they occasionally bump heads.
“Use impatient in a sentence, Little Bit,” Jaleel says smirking.
“How about the two of you allow us to enjoy dinner without having an unnecessary fight? It’s been a long day, and I just want to enjoy my family,” I interject.
“Okay, Daddy. I’m sorry.”
Lord, this is why she gets what she wants from me. She always knows what to say to make me fall further in love with her while continuing to wrap me around her little finger.
“Can you take me to buy some new dolls, Daddy?”
“Why? You aren’t playing with all the ones you have,” Jaleel says before I have a chance to respond, causing Mica to frown.
“How about this? If you promise to listen to Uncle J every day next week without him telling me anything bad, I’ll consider buying you some new dolls,” I say.
Mica’s frown transitions into a smile big enough to light my world and the restaurant that causes me to chuckle because I know she can get whatever she wants.
Call me a sucker or a parent who doesn’t know how to stop overcompensating, but Mica is my kryptonite, and I’m helpless to do anything but surrender to the knowledge.
“Deal. Thank you, Daddy. I love you,” Mica says, smiling.
“Sucker,” Jaleel says shaking his head while looking from me to Mica, and all I can do is laugh.
A sucker I am but I wouldn’t have it any other way.