Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Hood
The smell of fresh lumber hit me before I even stepped out of the Porsche.
The construction had finally reached the fun part.
The walls were freshly painted, the hardwood flooring was down, and the cabinets were being installed.
The place finally looked like something a nigga couldn’t wait to pull up to and get lined up.
Maurice waved me over. “Morning.”
“Morning, shit, what we got?”
He handed me a clipboard. “We’re ahead of schedule.”
“I like hearing that.”
Skeet laughed from across the room. “You like hearing anything that doesn’t cost any money.”
“Damn right.”
Maurice pointed toward the ceiling. “The electrician finishes today. The mirrors go in tomorrow. After that, we’ll start hanging light fixtures next week.”
I slowly walked through the barbershop. The black barber chairs had already been delivered. The waiting area and coffee station were complete. This investment... was almost ready. I grinned. “Looks good.”
“It’ll look better next door.”
Maurice nodded toward the second unit. I looked through the unfinished doorway into the salon beyond. Damn... This one was different. Natural light flooded the room. The stations had finally been installed, including the shampoo bowls and the color room. Exactly as she’d described it years ago.
“You still ain’t told her?” Maurice asked.
I smiled. “Nah.”
Skeet laughed. “You gone mess around and give yourself a heart attack keeping this secret.”
“I’ll be alright.”
Before anyone could say another word, a familiar Audi pulled slowly into the parking lot.
I frowned. “...Fumi?”
Skeet looked outside. “I’ll be damned.”
“What is she doing here?”
“Shit, I don’t know.”
I honestly didn’t. The driver’s door opened. There she was, beautiful as fuck. Big sunglasses. True Religion crop top and True Religion shorts. Brown paper bags in both hands. She smiled the second she saw me.
Damn... She brought lunch. I walked outside to meet her.
“I figured y’all were hungry.”
“What are you doing over here?”
She shrugged. “Surprising you. I thought construction workers liked to eat.”
Maurice laughed. “He ain’t the only one.”
“I know. I brought enough for everybody.”
She handed me a bag. “What you get?”
“Wings.” She smiled. “Fries and peach cobbler.”
Skeet immediately grabbed a bag. “Damn, I always liked her.”
“You liked her before today.”
“I know.”
Maurice reached for another bag. “You must be Fumi.”
She smiled politely. “I am.”
Maurice pointed toward the building. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
I immediately looked at Maurice and gave him the don’t-say-shit look. He fucking missed it or ignored it.
“I’m Maurice, your general contractor. It’s nice to finally meet the owner.”
Silence.
Everything stopped. My heart dropped into my stomach. Skeet closed his eyes, and
Maurice frowned. “What?”
Fumi looked at him. “The owner?”
Maurice pointed toward the salon without thinking. “Yeah... your salon.”
Silence.
The paper bag in Fumi’s hand slowly lowered. She looked at Maurice, then at me.
She looked at me again. “...My what?”
Maurice looked between us, and his smile vanished. “...Aw... Damn.”
Skeet pinched the bridge of his nose. “Maurice...” The realization finally hit him. “...She doesn’t know?”
Nobody answered him. He looked at me. “Hood... My fault.”
I let out a slow breath. “I know it wasn’t your story to tell.”
“It wasn’t. I’m sorry.”
I nodded. “I know.”
Maurice quietly grabbed his lunch and looked at Skeet. “I’mma... go eat in the barbershop.”
“Probably a good fucking idea.”
The moment they disappeared inside, it was just Fumi and me. Neither of us spoke. She looked at the building, then at me, then back at the building.
“Hood...”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “I was going to tell you.”
“When?”
“When it was finished.”
Fumi laughed, not because anything was funny, but because she was trying to process what she’d just heard. I reached into my pocket, pulled out my keys, found the one I wanted, and placed it in her hand.
“What is this?”
“Go see, since that nigga ran his mouth.”
She looked down at the key. Then back at me. “Are you coming with me?”
I shook my head. “Nah.”
“Why?”
“Because...” I grinned. “I’ve already seen it.”
Fumi stared at me for another second before turning toward the second set of double doors. The key slid into the lock.
Click.
She pushed the door open. Sunlight poured through the front windows. She stood there for a long moment, motionless, silent.
Then... She slowly walked inside. I stayed exactly where I was. Skeet walked back over and stood beside me.
“You ain’t going in?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“This moment... ain’t about me… It’s about her.”
Inside... Fumi slowly walked through the empty salon. Her footsteps echoed off the polished concrete floor. She stopped at the first styling station, ran her fingers along the countertop, then moved to the shampoo bowls.
She touched one. Then another. She opened the color room. Closed it. Walked into the break room.
Silence.
Complete silence.
Fumi stood in the middle of the room, turning in slow circles, taking everything in. She walked back toward the front and stopped just inside the doorway.
“Hood.”
“Yeah?”
Her voice cracked. “...Come here.”
I looked at Skeet.
He nodded. “Go.”
I walked inside slowly. When I reached her, she still hadn’t taken her eyes off the room.
“You remember.”
I frowned. “What?”
“My dream.” She finally looked at me. Her eyes were brimming. “I told you... years ago... I wanted my own salon.”
“I remember.”
She laughed through her tears. “I was just talking.”
“I know.”
“I wasn’t.”
Silence.
Fumi looked around again. “The natural light. I said I wanted it. My stations. I said I didn’t want them crowded. The shampoo bowls. I complained about clients’ necks hurting. The break room. I always said that if I ever owned a shop, I wanted my staff to have somewhere nice to eat.”
“I know.”
Every answer was the same: I know. She covered her mouth with both hands.
“Hood... How long?”
I smiled. “Long enough.”
“You remembered all that?”
“I remembered everything.”
A tear escaped before she could stop it. “I thought...” Fumi laughed at herself. “I thought you weren’t listening.”
I stepped a little closer. “I wasn’t listening then.” She looked at me. “I heard you. I just didn’t appreciate what I was hearing... until I almost lost the woman who was saying it.”
She closed the distance between us in two quick steps. Her hands found my face. She looked at me as if she were seeing me for the first time.
“You built my dream.”
I shook my head. “No. I built the building. The dream...” I gently tapped the key still clutched in her hand. “...is yours to build.”
Fumi stared down at the key. Then back at me.
“I can’t take this.”
“You can.”
“I didn’t earn this.”
I smiled. “You don’t have to earn a gift.”
She shook her head. “No... This is too much.”
“No. I owe you.”
She frowned. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“I do, Fumi, for every time you believed in a nigga before I believed in myself, and for every time you told me I could be more, and I chose the streets instead.” I swallowed.
“This ain’t repayment. There ain’t enough money in the world for that.
It’s gratitude, shawty. I wanted the woman I love... to never have to rent another booth.”
The tears she’d been fighting finally won. She wrapped both arms around my neck and buried her face against me. “You’re a hard-headed ass fool.”
I laughed into her hair. “I know.”
“You’ve been planning this the whole time?”
“Yeah.”
“You really weren’t going to tell me?”
“Hell No.”
“Why?”
I smiled. “Because I wanted the first time you felt walking in here to be pride, not obligation.”
She pulled back just enough to look at me. “You really love me.”
I smiled. “You know I do. I never stopped.”
Outside the storefront windows, Skeet quietly nudged Maurice.
Maurice whispered, “...I really fucked that surprise up.”
Skeet laughed. “Nah... you just got to witness the best part.”
Fumi buried her face against my chest. I felt her shoulders shake, then heard her laugh. She was laughing, the kind that came from somewhere deep. I wrapped my arms around her a little tighter.
“You alright?”
She nodded against my chest. “Yeah.”
“You sure?”
She looked up at me. Her eyes were glossy, mascara slightly smudged. Still... the prettiest woman I’d ever laid eyes on. She reached up... cupped the bottom of my chin in her hand. Studied my face for a long second.
Then shook her head. You know... What?” You ruined my damn summer.”
I frowned. “I did?”
She laughed. “You absolutely did.”
“How?”
“I had plans.”
“What kind of plans?”
“Peace.”
I laughed. “You got it.”
“I did. But then...” She smiled... “You came home.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “So that’s my fault?”
“It is.” She playfully shoved my chest. “You came back acting all different and shit. I couldn’t even be mad at you. I tried.”
“I know.”
She looked up at me and smiled the smile I’d missed for seven years. “You know too damn much. I been paying attention.”
She laughed again, then shook her head. “You really ruined my damn summer.”
I leaned down until our foreheads touched. “I wasn’t trying to.”
“What were you trying to do?”
I smiled. “I only wanted you... to catch a vibe... with a Hood A$$ nigga from Edgewood.”
For a second, she stared at me, then threw her head back and laughed. The kind of laugh that filled the entire salon. Damn... I’d missed that laugh. She grabbed my face with both hands.
“You are so damn corny.”
“I know, but it worked.”
She rolled her eyes. “Barely.”
“Nah...” I grinned. “It worked exactly how it was supposed to.”
She stood on her tiptoes and kissed me, slowly and unhurriedly. As if she finally understood... Nowhere else did either of us need to be. When she pulled away... She rested her forehead against mine.
“You know what?”
“What?”
“I think this was the best summer of my life.”
I smiled. “I know.”
The afternoon sun poured through the front windows, casting light across the empty salon. Soon… there would be laughter. Clients… music… and Black women chasing dreams.
But today... it held something even more valuable. A promise that some dreams take a little longer to come true. And that some people are worth every season it takes to find your way back to them.
The End.