Chapter 15 The Marquis Plaza. #2
“I hope you don’t forget them. Those tulips would look beautiful in there on the side table,” her mom says before grabbing her bouquet and walking in the other direction.
“Your moms is your twin,” I tell her as soon as we walk into the living room.
“I know. I used to deny it when I was younger but I always knew. Most people think we’re sisters and she loves that shit.”
“Well, at least I know you’ll still be fine and pretty when you get to that age,” I joke and she punches my arm.
“Don’t be looking at my momma, boy!” she says, then laughs. “I’m gonna tell her what you said.”
“Ay. Don’t do that. I need her to like me.”
“You brought her roses. She likes you,” she assures. My eyes scan the big ass living room. There’s a piano in the corner and on the wall behind it is a glass display case filled with what looks like awards from here. I start to trek over and she follows. “I used to play,” she says.
“Shit. You must have been good. Look at all these plaques and ribbons.”
“That’s over like eight years. That’s why there’s so many,” she says, trying to downplay it.
“Can you still play?”
“Yeah. I can. I play sometimes when I’m over here.
” She slides onto the bench then lifts the cover off the keys.
Looking all professional, she locks her fingers together and stretches them, then places her hands on the keys.
“My mom always wanted me to play Debussy’s ‘Clair de Lune’ but I preferred to play this,” she says before closing her eyes.
The room fills with a song I think I recognize and I just stare at her in awe.
Her eyes remain closed as she plays but her smile doesn’t fade at all.
She sways and smiles while practically making the piano sing.
She can play and I can tell she loves it.
When she finishes, her eyes open and I’m sure I’m smiling like a damn simp but I don’t care. She did that shit.
“Damn! You can really play. What was that song?”
“One of my favorites by Alicia Keys.”
When she closes the lid, I extend my hand and she takes it, helping her up. As soon as she’s standing, I wrap both of my arms around her.
“Award winning piano player. What else don’t I know ’bout you?” I ask because I’m real shit still stuck on how she just played that piano.
“Oh, there’s so much more. Like the old people say, I’m like an onion. There’s so many layers to me,” she says with a cute ass smirk on her face.
“Shit. I love layers and I’m glad I like onions then.”
“Stop lying! You don’t like onions,” she says while grinning.
“But I like you and this juicy onion.” My hands grip her phat ass as I lean in to kiss her lips but a deep voice stops me.
“Ay. I don’t play that kissing in here,” he barks.
I turn to my left and see a tall man standing behind the sofa.
He’s not huge but has some bulk like he used to lift back in the day.
His beard has hang time and it has a patch of gray on one side.
He reminds me of an unc on the block back in D-Ville, a hard-working man, never been in the streets but still stands on his shit.
So out of respect, I drop my arms from Teaira’s ass.
“Daddy, stop,” she says and they both laugh. She grabs my hand and pulls me with her as she walks over to him. “Tyriq, this is my daddy.”
“I’m Troy and I definitely know who you are,” he says. “Man, congratulations on that win! You proved them wrong out there and brought it home to CFU. You ready for the draft?” he asks.
“Yes, sir. I’m ready.”
“Let’s go talk back here. The cornbread isn’t ready yet.” He pats my shoulder then hugs Teaira. “I love when you play, Babygirl. And take that frown off your face. We’ll be in there in a minute.”
Teaira eyes him for a minute before leaving us in the living room. When she’s gone, he turns to me then grins. “You smoke?” he asks, catching me off guard for real.
I was expecting that question. “I blaze,” I admit. He really is an unc.
“Good. We can smoke one and talk for a second.”
We walk through the living room and pass another smaller room with bookcases then out of the door to a closed-in patio.
It’s air conditioned with furniture, a big screen, and a bar.
He sits in a chair and nods for me to sit in the other.
Not only does he smoke but he smokes that fye.
When he opens the Lit Box from High Timez, and I see the big ass prerolls, I know we’re about to blow.
I wasn’t really sweating meeting her parents but there’s always a little nervousness in these situations.
All of that fades away the minute his torch fires the blunt.
“What you know ’bout that, Mr. Troy?”
“I know after a week at the distillery, I need to relax. Since I only smoke on the weekend, I don’t waste my hard-earned money on no weak shit.
” He passes the blunt to me. “Guest first.” I don’t hesitate to hit it and let the smoke fill my lungs.
When I release it, I hit it again and pass it back to him.
“Huh?” he questions with raised eyebrows.
“That’s gas,” I admit.
“All day.” He hits the blunt, and for a minute, he just enjoys his weed.
When he passes the blunt back though, he turns his body a little to face me.
“I just got two questions about you and Teaira and that’s it.
She’s a grown ass woman and I don’t get in her affairs.
I leave that to my wife,” he says and I respectfully sit up and nod.
“We raised her, so I know who she is, what she wants, and what she deserves. The deserves is where I insert myself because she deserves a man who’s going to love, protect, and care for her.
No exceptions. I’m not that old so I know the kind of access a professional basketball player has to women.
With all of that, can you honestly say that you can just be with one woman? ”
Before Teaira, I honestly couldn’t have answered his question.
I’ve had access to women since I grabbed a damn ball.
And when I started winning games, tournaments, and championships, my access grew too.
Pussy and basketball go hand in hand. If I legit wanted to, I could fuck a different female every night.
I definitely have access but that doesn’t mean shit when I only want one.
I’ve only wanted her since our first night.
Speaking nothing but facts, I look him in his eyes and say, “When it’s the right woman, yes.”
“I’m going to assume that’s my daughter. If I’m right, do you see a future with her?” he asks.
It takes all of me not to tell him that a part of our future together is already on lock with our little baby but I keep it in.
Teaira wants to tell them together before dinner.
I’m working on the other part. My feelings for Teaira have been creeping in for a minute now and they’re only getting stronger with each minute we’re together. So I just give him the simple answer.
“Yes, sir, I do.”
“Good.” He nods then hits the blunt. “Then we understand each other until we don’t,” he says and I fully understand that if I hurt Teaira in any way, he and I will no longer be cool.
“You don’t have to worry ’bout that,” I assure him. When he passes me the blunt, I hit one final time, smirking at him. Something tells me Unc might just have a little street in him.
“I’m going to finish this up. Won’t you go see if that cornbread is done,” he says smoothly.
“Bet.”
I stand and leave him to the blunt. Because I don’t have a clue where the kitchen is, I rely on my nose and ears.
Teaira and her mom are in full conversation and their voices get clearer as I walk.
The house also smells good as hell. I may not know what she’s cooking but I do know it smells delicious.
So I keep walking. When I’m almost at the end of the short hall, I hear my name and freeze.
“And you’re sure that’s Tyriq?” her mom asks.
“I hope I am, Ma.”
“Then it will be. The smallest amount of hope is enough to cause the birth of love. It doesn’t happen overnight, but when it does and it’s meant for you? Sweetheart, it’s wonderful. The ride can also be fun.”
The remainder of her words trail off and I miss them, but whatever she said, Teaira immediately reacts. “Ma! I swear! TM-Freaking-I.”
“Girl, what do you think me and your daddy do all alone in this big house? Please! It ain’t just cooking and eating. Well, some eating.”
“Ma! Ugh! I’m going to get—” she begins and her sentence stops when she runs right into me.
Fuck! I’m caught.
“Oh,” she sighs loudly, startled. “I…was…just…How long were you right here?”
“Just now,” I lie quickly. “Your dad wanted to know if the cornbread is ready.”
“Oh, okay,” she says, flustered. “It’s ready. I was coming to find you two.”
“You good?” I ask and she flashes me a half ass smile.
“Yeah. Just ready to eat.” Her head lifts. “Oh good. You’re here too. Momma said we can eat.”
“Let me wash my hands,” her dad says. I guess he decided to just come in.
“You sure you’re good?”
She nods fast then says, “Yes. Just ready to tell them. I’m thinking we’ll do it after my dad says grace.”
“Before we eat. Something smells good as hell and I don’t want to be kicked out before I can taste it.”
“I promise. They are not going to kick you out. My mom is dying to be a grandma. She’s going to be so happy. My daddy too.”
“Ion know; your dad is an OG. He might crash out,” I tease.
“My daddy? Please. He is all talk,” she says before rolling her eyes.
“A’ight. I’m telling you.”