Chapter 32 Bliss
Bliss
“Look at this,” Uncle Orion says as he steps out of his house.
We’d been on the phone for about ten minutes.
He strolls over to the side and immediately, his Doberman runs up to him.
He rubs the dog’s head. “Not your time, Gretel,” he says casually before walking past her.
Gretel? Jah Jah. I chuckle to myself, then glance up when my office door opens.
I quickly put out my weed and slide the tray aside.
Zara walks in, holding the blue shoe British bought her. She exhales dramatically.
“Excuse me baby, but yuh think mi fi wear this?” she asks.
I nod. “Of course.”
“Alright,” she says, turning to leave.
“Zara,” I call out and she stops in the doorway.
“Yes, babe?”
“You done pack? Or yuh wah mi help?” I ask.
She smiles. “Mi done pack, babe…just the shoes lef fi organize,” she replies.
We’re flying to Barbados tomorrow for my birthday, and she has been in the bedroom packing since morning.
She walks out slowly, gently closing the door behind her, and I look back at the phone, just as Uncle Orion calls my name again.
Jah… d’even member eh dawg. Yea man… cause Zara walk in? My subconscious tease.
“You a look?” he asks again. I hold up the phone and really look this time. My smile spreads when I see what he’s showing me, a sleek black Bentley, polished to perfection, catching the showroom lights. Jah Jah… early birthday gift mi G? Chubble!
“This madd,” I chuckle as Uncle Orion walks around the car. A clean, black Bentley Continental GT… low, sleek, like it just whispered out of a dream.
“This exactly one you wanted?” he asks, circling it with that smug uncle smile.
“Fa sure,” I nod, eyeing every curve. I do remember mentioning to him last year how much I rate the Continental.
But how him know mi like the black one? Unless mi mouth slip and mi tell him say mi prefer the all-black over the two-tone.
Either way… he got it spot on. Then again, everybody know seh mi rate anything black.
“Uncs, respect enuh,” I smirk. “Mi affi go buy yuh Rolls Royce.” He widens his eyes dramatically at the camera. Man too dramatic, mi cyaa tek him serious.
“You better!” he jokes, and I take a long pull from my Rémy Martin. I changed my drink, tomorrow a lone Hennessy.
“Mi a go dweet, and yuh know that.”
“You?” he scoffs. “A one a the meanest man mi ever know.” I burst out laughing. Man love run joke. Truth is, he knows damn well I’m not stingy. Never been short on cash either. If mi like yuh and you like sup’m, mi a get it. That’s just me.
“Nobody cyaa seh man stingy wid money enuh.”
“Mi know, mi bwoy. Mi just a mess wid yuh,” he laughs. Afi. ‘Cause one thing ’bout Nickoi? That nigga gon’ spend. “You been kind from yuh young, enuh,” he says and I laugh again.
“Believe,” I say, taking another sip of Rémy. “And how yuh mek eh thing look like man old so?”
He laughs. “Mi know it woulda ketch yuh. But twenty-five a young age, man.”
Then he adds. “Mi member when yuh used to spoil Erica daughter.”
“You member that?” I start dying with laughter.
“Den nuh muss?” he smirks. “All when police fawud fi yuh… seh yuh lock up inna house wid the girl. But when dem see how young yuh be, dem just talk it out.” Craven A in one hand, him take a long pull and exhales slow.
Classic. Dis Craven A gimme a mad feeling…
but di Grenada grade wid di grabba leaf send mi guh ah place where gravity nuh exist. Mi love stay there, my subconscious whisper like a sweet vice.
“Outlaw dem did fear,” I say, staring into space for a second. Even police. My father.. the devil himself. My OG. Still nuh see a soul like him since. Except… maybe me.
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “And yuh remember how yuh used to affi boom drive? All when yuh fadda a mek millions. Cause yuh did too unruly, love give weh yuh last to people.” I chuckle, thinking back.
You think a now mi stay so? A long time.
From box-truck days inna primary school.
Mi woulda spend mi likkle lunch money on girl, end up without fare in the evening.
And walk home, hang on the walls or boom drive.
Mi love roll wid mi frens who did a tough it out, slowly I fell in love with the streets.
But mi learn now. People will use yuh… mi still generous, but mi picky now.
And one thing, if yuh beg mi, mi nah give yuh nothing.
If yuh affi beg, it already sound desperate.
And desperation mek people a weak link. Cause a man can just fawud with a small food and yuh sell me out. Mi nuh rate dem thing deh.
“This car worth it though,” Uncs says, still smirking, leaning over to look at the display features. I take out my lighter, light the spliff and hold it between my fingers. I puff slowly, letting the smoke hang in the air.
“Tomorrow mi o’ dealid your thing,” I drag the spliff. Smoke curls through the air as I text one of my car dealer plugs in L.A. Links and plugs fi days. Never lie. “What color yuh want… white?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Mi want it silver, Mari.” I nod, already typing it out on my my business phone. The other one is strictly for high-priority people and personal calls. I shoot the message to the plug and snap the phone shut.
“Mi just text the dawg, so by tomorrow it deh a yuh foot.” Zara walks in, pulling my attention. Her energy always shift my space.
“Sorry again babe,” she says, a LV slide in her hand, “But yuh think mi fi bring this?” I put out the weed quickly and smile, stroking my beard as I look at her.
“Seem like yuh busy, so a mawning we talk, Mari,” Uncle Orion says on the line.
I glance at the screen. “Ah… tomorrow.” I end the call.
“Mami, if yuh wah wear the thing, bring it.” She makes up her face, lips poked out in that fake whine before she starts laughing.
And mi just watch her. She’s been glowing differently, ever since she heard ‘bout the Barbados trip.
Mi love fi see it. On God. “Pack it,” I tell her, since my first answer never help.
She grins. Oh, so a that yuh waah hear? Why yuh ask then?
Jah Jah. She have too much, man. Bun up datt!
“Alright,” she says, still grinning like she’s hiding something. I narrow my eyes, studying her.
“Waam?” I ask, leaning back in my office chair.
“Mi cya wait fi show yuh the gift mi get yuh,” she says, and I smile. Interesting.
“Gimme a hint nuh?” She shakes her head quick. Lips glistening.
“It’s a birthday gift.”
“Obviously,” I say, waiting for her to go on.
“Wah mi a say is… yuh birthday in two hours, so wait ‘til 12 o’clock.”
I smirk. “You cya stay up so late when we have early flight.”
“Oh yeah,” she mutters, looking like she’s rethinking everything. She huffs. “Bwoy… mi nuh know.”
“Easy nuh, Mami. Yuh done buy the gift. Yuh nuh affi stress ‘bout giving the perfect speech at the perfect time.”
I pause, voice dropping. “Honestly, Zara, the way how yuh mek mi feel already enough. Mi nuh need no gift. Mi just happy mi have yuh.”
She stares at me, soft smile forming. “Awww.” And it’s true. Mi have everything.
Money, cars, links, properties. Wah lef fi she give mi?
Her love, my subconscious whisper. Exactly.
After she left the room, I called the Airbnb host we renting from.
Confirmed arrival time. Sent in a few last-minute orders.
When I hang up, I roll another spliff and play music in my ear pods.
By the time the clock hit 11:30, my eyes feel heavy.
Man ready fi knock out. I walk to the bedroom and, just like I expect, she’s asleep, prettier than a barbie, more like a Goddess.
I bite my lip. Watch har deep inna dreamland.
I walk over and kneel next to the bed. I don’t stare at her like the creeps in the movies do.
I just move her hair back, press a kiss to her lips, then slide in the bed beside her.
I pull her closer and closer, til no space is left between us.
ZARA
I hear my 12:00 alarm and quietly shift Nickoi’s hand off me. I tiptoe across the room to grab his gift, trying not to wake him. But of course. “Zara,” he calls groggily. I smile and ease the door open with one hand while the other holds up my phone.
“Happy birthday, my baby daddy, my fiancé, my everything!” I say, already recording.
He’s sitting up in bed, eyes half-shut, looking sleepy as hell.
Haha, watch him. Man look high. The longer I stare, the more I realize—yeah, he really is.
My Gard man. I walk over to his side, holding his face in my hands.
I tilt it gently to me and press a kiss to his forehead.
“I love you. And even though I’m not half as rich as you are…
” I pause, nervous suddenly. “I’m working now.
I’m earning my own, and that means I can do things for you too.
” He looks at me full-on now. That intense Nickoi stare.
I inhale, glancing at his dimples instead of his eyes.
“You already have everything, so it’s hard to find you a gift. But I’m your fiancée, and I’ve been listening. You once mentioned something… something you don’t have. So…” I hand him a bottle of Crown Royal, smiling as he takes it. He grins, already amused.
“Jah Jah… so why yuh choose this though and not Hennessy?”
“This is why,” I say, placing another box beside him. It’s wrapped, topped with a red ribbon and a handwritten note. He picks up the note, smiling, but starts reading it silently. Uh-uh. “Nickoi, read it out.” He glances at me, then clears his throat and reads out loud:
To Nickoi Omari Jacobs,