Chapter 2
Kam showed up early the next morning with a coffee in one hand and my schedule in the other. That alone told me what kind of day it was going to be.
I was sitting at the island counter in my kitchen when I heard the front door open.
I could tell it was him by the heavy scuffing against the hardwood as he shuffled down the hallway.
He never knocked; he just punched his code in the lock and let himself in like he owned the place.
I didn’t mind it, though. Kam had become the older brother and best friend I never knew I needed.
He carefully placed the coffee in front of me and said, “You look like shit.”
I smirked and wrapped my hand around the cup. “Good morning to you too, nigga.”
He dropped the folder on the counter, flipped it open, and got straight to business.
“Aight,” he began. “Tomorrow, you got that label meeting at three. They wanna talk numbers on the soundtrack rollout.”
I let out a breath, folded my arms, and pressed my back into the chair. “The one with the streaming execs, right?”
“Yep. Them and the film studio. After that, you have the session with the new girl they just signed. She’s flying in from New York. She’s only here for the night.”
I sighed again, but he continued.
“Wednesday, you back in the booth, two sessions. One for the album and the other for the feature you working on now.” He turned the page and continued without skipping a beat. “Thursday, you have that panel interview with The Good Guys Podcast, and then back to the studio for the film.”
“What about Friday? What was that again?” I squinted my eyes and searched the schedule to find the answer. Kam didn’t even have to look.
“Another session.”
“Of course it is.”
He smirked. “Kam keep you working, my boy.”
Between meetings, sessions, and flights were my heavy red eyes, red like the color of the sunset I’d see from the jet window before I closed my eyes and prayed that I’d get at least twenty minutes of undisturbed sleep before turbulence jolted me awake.
“It’s a session penciled in for Saturday night, but I have to call to confirm that’s still on, so don’t count that out just yet,” Kam added, slicing through my thoughts.
I shook my head. “Damn, man.”
Kam finally looked up. “What’s up?”
I rubbed my hand across my forehead. “Block off next Friday night and all day Saturday for me.”
His brows furrowed. “For what? What you got going on?”
“Yana and her mama flying in. It’s spring break, so she ain’t got school.”
He sat up straight in his chair like he was seeing me for the first time this morning. “How long they gon’ be here?”
“A week,” I replied. “But I need that night and a full day, with no meetings or sessions, no check-ins, nothing.”
Kam’s head tilted like a puppy that heard a new sound for the first time. “Damn, that’s the first time I heard that from you. You want me to block out your schedule completely? What’s really goin’ on, man?”
I didn’t argue. “I know.”
He closed the folder and crossed his arms. “Something done changed. Talk to me.”
I wrapped my hands around the cup of coffee and felt the heat seep into my palm. With my voice unstrained, I didn’t hold back the exhaustion that rose in my chest. “I’m tired, bro.”
“Tired, how?” He stared at me, puzzled.
“Tired of . . . tired of running, honestly. I keep feeling like I missed out on my own life.”
Kam remained silent. He never interrupted when I shared these kinds of things with him. He’d just stare at me and listen without judgment. I continued, taking his silence as an invitation.
“I look up, and I got all this money and success, everything I used to pray for. But when I found out that I had a fifteen-year-old daughter, whose life I missed out on, it started making me look at my life and the things that mattered to me.”
He took a deep breath before he spoke. “You saying that you want to slow down a little bit?”
“I’m saying I don’t wanna wake up one day and realize I built all this shit and got nobody to share it with,” I said. “I already missed too much. And I didn’t even realize it.”
He paused and waited for me again, but that was all I had to say. When he realized it, he slowly nodded his head. “Okay. Alright.”
I met his gaze with a side-eye. Kam was never speechless. He always had the right advice or the perfect follow-up to uplift me and keep me going when I felt unmotivated. I had expected more than just a simple okay, alright. That response threw me off guard.
“I’ll move things around,” he added. “We can make some room, no problem.”
He stood and walked to the fridge, swung the door open, and pulled out a bottle of water.
Every time he’d come over, he would take a few sips and leave half-empty bottles lying around everywhere.
It drove me crazy. With the door still open, he twisted the cap off and took a swig.
I sat in my seat with my eyes squinted on him.
He still hadn’t argued, gave a rebuttal, offered advice, dropped a jewel, nothing. That was unlike him, and it made me wonder what truly floated through his mind.
“So, you don’t have nothing to say. Just. . .” I shrugged. “You just gonna make room?”
“Listen,” Kam said. His tone shifted into big brother, something I’d finally recognized since the whole exchange began.
“You found out you had a daughter after fifteen years. She’s sixteen now.
You didn’t disappear. You didn’t deny her.
You didn’t run. What I hear from you is that you found something else in life that matters to you more than work.
I can’t argue with a man about what he needs to do or what is best for his life for his family.
If you need time to be off to be there for them, it’s my job to make that happen. ”
He closed the fridge door, walked back to the countertop, set his water down, and leaned forward. I scrunched my forehead and watched the corners of his mouth turn up. There was another pause as silence fell between us. This was unlike him, and it made me curious.
“Nigga, just say what you really wanna say, and stop with the Dr. Phil analyzations and shit!” I joked. “Now you Oprah or somebody?”
We both laughed, but his words pumped through my head like a balloon.
He said I was making decisions based on what was best for my family.
I never had a family before. I didn’t know anything about making the best decisions for one.
I didn’t recognize at that moment that he was telling me that I was starting to grow.
He must have noticed my shift because it was as if he read my thoughts when he spoke his next words.
“I noticed the change in you the moment you started stepping up for Yana—hopping on planes last minute, showing up for school plays for one hour, and then back to work. Shit like that matters.”
I shrugged and hung my head low. “I guess I just feel guilty. I should’ve been there sooner.”
Still leaning on the counter, he rubbed his hands together. “A lot of fathers don’t do that, though. A lot of fathers been around their kids all their life and don’t do shit. And it wasn’t like you knew, either. Princess kept that secret. You gotta give yourself more credit than you do.”
I exhaled. I knew he was right. I had been hard on myself, but I also had shown up as much as I could when I was able to.
Kam continued. “You also didn’t have a blueprint, Zay. Nobody does. You were raised on survival like a lot of us were.”
That really hit me then.
“I know,” I said quietly.
Kam shook his head softly, as if the thought broke him. “You been looking out for yourself since you was a kid, so don’t act surprised that this family shit feels foreign.”
I scoffed and chuckled all in the same breath. “Foreign is one way to put it. I ain’t never really felt nothin’ like this before.”
Kam stayed quiet and allowed me to get there again.
“I had women. I had moments. But Princess . . .” I shook my head. “She changed everything for me back then. And then to find out she brought a child into the world—my child—and I didn’t know. I missed so much, years I can’t get back.”
We both sat there for a second, then he sighed dramatically and straightened up. “Alright. Let me ask you something.”
I felt the smile spread across my face, already knowing where the conversation was headed. “Here we go.”
He laughed. “You already know what I’m about to say.”
“Bruh,” I said.
He pointed at me. “How much longer you gon’ pretend like you don’t love that girl?”
I shook my head and laughed. “Man—”
“How much longer you gon’ act like y’all ain’t a family?” He continued. “Like y’all don’t already move like one?”
I leaned back against the counter. “It ain’t even like that.”
Kam raised an eyebrow. “That’s a lie.”
I laughed again, louder this time. “Alright, damn.”
He grinned. “You love Princess Love Tate, always have. Only thing changed is now you old enough to be scared of it.”
I sighed and rubbed my face. “I’m just tryna make sure I don’t fuck it up.”
“Good. That means you care. And you wanna hear something else?”
He paused for a moment, but I didn’t answer him. I just stared back and waited, knowing he was going to speak whatever was on his heart regardless.
“You ain’t your real father. You ain’t your stepdad. You already proved that by showing up. I just been waiting for you to stop acting like work is the only thing you know how to commit to.”
He grabbed the folder, and with a smug grin, he turned and left the kitchen, leaving the half-drank bottle of water behind. “Go get your family right, Zay!” he shouted from the hallway. “I got everything else!”
I remained in place and listened as the door opened.
“Nigga, quit coming over here wasting all my water!” I shouted back playfully.
“You rich, motherfucker! Buy some more!” He slammed the door behind him.
Still smiling, I sat there a few moments longer and took in all Kam’s words. For the first time in a long time, the fear didn’t feel like it chased me.
It felt like it was daring me to finally stop running.