CHAPTER TWO
CASH
“I can’t get over how great this place looks.”
Cash’s mother took a long sip of champagne. “It’s a complete transformation. Who knew Ms. Brown had the depth?” Cash’s eyes flicked sideways. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
His mother smiled, tight and polite. Though the judgement beneath her words, was impossible to miss. “Nothing, just that it’s… impressive. More elegant than I expected. She really outdid herself.”
“Babe, your mother’s only stating the obvious,” Zambia added, syrupy as ever.
“This kind of execution? The attention to detail? The ambiance? It’s hard to believe Jackie pulled this off alone.
I mean, someone had to help, right?” She looked around theatrically, as if the floating florals and mirrored poetry panels were too sophisticated to come from someone like Jackie Brown.
“It’s giving…professional production,” Zambia continued. “Like something you’d see in Bridal Vogue. Not something you’d expect from a—what does she call herself? A do-it-yourselfer?”
Cash didn’t say a word, but his jaw tightened.
“Not saying she isn’t trying,” Zambia continued, still smiling.
“But this is refined, classy, and not exactly the vibe she exudes… respectfully.” She gave a small shrug and sipped her drink.
“Some people lack foundational material, and that’s not their fault it’s environmental.
You can’t buy taste.” Cash clenched his jaw harder.
“This conversation is getting real classist,” he snapped.
“And as Muslim women, y’all know better.
” Both women turned to him, his mother with a flash of warning in her eyes, Zambia with mock surprise.
“I’m just being honest,” Zambia said. “It’s not like I am dragging her. I respect the attempt. I mean, look at this place. It’s just… surprising. That’s all.” His mother stepped in, her tone cool.
“Well, I understand where Zambia’s coming from. When I admitted Max into the school, it was strictly as a favor to Syxe. I had my reservations, of course. He comes from a single-parent household, no father, and his mother—while well-meaning, is a bit of a wildcard.” She paused.
“Her record isn’t egregious, but it’s not clean either. Shoplifting, fraud, a few minor assaults. That says something.” Cash’s grip tightened around his glass.
“Which explains Max’s behavior and his emotional temperament,” his mother continued. “He’s struggling academically, just as we predicted. The Philadelphia public school system failed him early. And Jackie, while clearly trying, isn’t…equipped. She doesn’t have the structure.”
“She’s doing her best,” Cash muttered. “Perhaps,” his mother acknowledged. Zambia snorted into her glass. “Seemed like she got real tense when the engagement came up… as if she’d ever—”
“As if she’d ever what?” Cash cut in, finally locking eyes with her.
Zambia blinked, caught off guard. “Cassius,” his mother warned, her tone sharpening.
“Nobody’s judging your little friend.” Cash’s chest rose and fell once, then again.
Zambia lifted her glass with that petty little smile she got when she smelled blood.
Cash knew what this really was about. Zambia had noticed him watching Jackie all night.
And his mother? She wasn’t coming from the same jealous place, but the message was still loud and clear. Jackie brown was less than.
“But some things are bigger than effort, Cassius,” his mother continued.
“She’s not college educated. I’m not even sure she has a GED.”
“ She doesn’t have a stable family network, no consistent male presence and I’m sorry on paper her parenting just seems… reactive. And Max mimics that.”
“Ok, surely she’s not the first woman to fight her way out of circumstances she didn’t create alone,” Cash said, voice low and tense. “And I admire her for that. You didn’t have to bring up Max’s file tonight.” He exhaled sharply. “It felt like a pile-on.”
“Cassius,” his mother said, measured, “she’s been ducking our attempts to schedule a behavioral evaluation for weeks. I’m sorry, but sometimes you must seize the opportunity when it presents itself.”
Cash could not take one more smug smile or passive-aggressive jab masked as concern. They were dissecting Jackie like she was a fucking case study, and he refused to listen to another second of it.
“I need some air,” he said tightly, already stepping off toward the exit before either of them could respond.
The air outside was cooler and quieter. Like the city itself was trying to give him space to breathe.
Cash stepped around the corner of the shop, jaw tight, trying to collect himself before he went inside and said something he couldn’t take back.
That’s when he saw her. Jackie. She was crouched low near the sidewalk, one hand gripping a piece of neon chalk as she wrote in cursive across the brick-lined edge.
Max stood beside her, fidgeting with a half-broken blue stick in his small hand.
Cash stopped and just watched. Her heels were kicked off, tucked behind her in the grass.
Her dress was hiked just enough for her to kneel comfortably, and the slow, careful movement of her shoulders did something to him.
“Mommy, you think your car gon’ start tonight? ” Max asked, his voice soft with worry.
Jackie didn’t look up. She kept writing. “I hope so, baby.”
“Me too,” Max whispered. Something in his tone made Cash’s chest tighten. Jackie reached over and ruffled his hair. “Auntie Syxe said I can have iced coffee after we put everything back later,” Max added proudly. “Boy, I’m not giving you no damn coffee,” Jackie said, laughing gently.
Max giggled and wrapped his arms around her waist. Then he stilled.
“Mommy… was you crying earlier?” Jackie’s hand froze mid-stroke.
She looked down, then forced a small smile.
“We all were,” she said softly. “The ceremony was beautiful.”
“Not then,” Max said. “After.” Jackie’s breath hitched, and that’s when her eyes lifted and met Cash’s. Max stood, brushing his hands together, unaware of the tension settling between them.
“Go inside and wash your hands,” Jackie said, her voice calm but tight.
“We ’bout to get ready to pack up.”
“Okay.” As Max passed him, he looked up. Coach Cash.” Cash nodded.
“Go ’head. I’ll see you inside.” Max disappeared, leaving them alone in the cool night air.
Jackie leaned back against the brick wall, arms folded across her middle, still not looking at him.
“You okay?” Cash asked quietly. “Yeah.” She said voice barely audible.
Cash stepped closer, giving her the option to move if she wanted.
She didn’t. Then he spoke. “You don’t gotta front with me,” he said after a beat.
Jackie’s lips pressed into a thin line. She still wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“I’m fine,” she said again, but her voice cracked this time.
Cash nodded slowly, the weight on his chest pressing deeper.
She was unraveling, and trying to hold it all together with chalk, caffeine promises, and a little boy who knew just enough to ask the hard questions with a soft voice.
“I ain’t mean for you to find out like that,” Cash said.
Jackie’s eyes snapped up finally. Her expression blank, but something flickered there—anger, hurt, maybe both. “You could’ve told me,” she said.
“That would’ve been decent.”
“I didn’t know how.”
“You knew how to not say shit, though.”
He didn’t respond. Couldn’t.
Jackie pushed off the wall and grabbed her shoes, dusting chalk off her dress.
“I got tables to break down,” she said. Cash stepped aside, but before she moved past him, he said quietly, “You really made this place look like magic tonight.” She paused.
Just for a second. Then: “Yeah, well. Some of us gotta learn how to make something outta nothing.” Then she walked back towards the entrance.
And Cash just stood there. Watching her walk away.
She was almost back inside when his voice stopped her again. “That night…” he said, quiet but sharp.
“The night Syxe went ghost… I saw him.”
Jackie froze. Cash stepped closer, voice low.
“You were watching me?”
“I was checking on you.” She folded her arms. “Same difference.”
Cash took another step, close enough now that her perfume, warm vanilla, and something else hit him in the chest. “I ain’t know what I was walking into,” he said. “Didn’t know if you needed help or if I needed to put a bullet in somebody.” Jackie’s jaw tightened. “So, what did you decide?”
“I decided you ain’t look like you needed saving,” he said. “Not the way you let that nigga touch you. While your son stood there like it was normal.” Jackie flinched. Just slightly. But he saw it.
“You don’t know what the fuck you saw,” she said, her voice sharper now.
“I saw enough.” “No, you saw what you wanted to see,” she snapped.
“And you used that shit to write me off like I was just another hood bitch letting her baby daddy play in her face.” He stared at her, breathing hard through his nose.
“You ain’t think maybe I was protecting my son?
” she said, voice cracking. “And maybe that this was the only way I could even see him? You think I wanted that nigga in my space? The same man that used to drag me up and down steps by my hair and black my eye every time he felt like it?” Cash’s fists clenched at his sides.
Jackie shook her head, furious now. “You think I didn’t want to scream or slap the shit outta him?
But what the fuck was I supposed to do, Cash?
Snatch my son and run? Then what? Lose custody for good? ”
“I didn’t know,” he said, voice low. “Yeah. And instead of asking, you judged me.” Cash looked away. Swallowed the guilt crawling up his throat. “Listen, I didn’t want you to find out about Zambia like that,” he said finally. “That’s real shit.” Jackie laughed, bitter and breathless.
“But you still let me and then watched me unravel and said nothing.”
“I ain’t know what to say. Shit between us got blurry. And then I saw him on you like that…”
“What?” she cut in. “It made it easier to cut me off? Easier to slide that ring on her finger and act like none of this happened?”
“I didn’t even buy her that ring,” Cash snapped.
“I didn’t propose to her. I don’t even fucking know her anymore.”
“Yet y’all getting married,” Jackie said, voice thick with sarcasm. “Make it make sense.”
He exhaled through his nose, jaw tight, trying to keep his tone leveled—but the heat behind it slipped anyway.
“I been promised to marry Zambia since I was five years old,” he said, low and clipped.
“This shit was set in stone before I even knew what marriage was. Her folks and mine, they been locked in, for years. Ain’t no love in it.
It’s legacy and leverage.” Jackie blinked.
Her expression shifted, but she didn’t interrupt.
Cash stepped closer, eyes on hers. “You think I wanted this? You think I sat down and planned this shit out? I’m just the son who happened to be born at the right time to be useful. ”
“But you still said yes,” Jackie whispered.
“I didn’t say yes,” he said, voice rising for the first time.
“I just stopped sayin’ no. That’s the difference.
” Jackie looked away, but he wasn’t done.
“You look at me like I’m free. Like I get to choose who I love and what I build.
But I been groomed for this since I was a kid.
Every move I make gets weighed, watched.
I’m not just me, I’m somebody’s fucking contingency plan.
” He laughed once dry and humorless. “They told me I was lucky, said it was an honor to be my father’s son.
That I was blessed to be matched with a woman like her”
“But all I hear is control. All I see is a cage I get to decorate like a throne.”
“You don’t have to go through with it,” Jackie said, voice softer now.
“You don’t owe them your life.”
“Yeah, I do,” he said without hesitation.
“This was what was written for me, and I ain’t never had the luxury of rewriting the script.
” His voice cracked, just barely. And before she could look away, he stepped in and cupped her chin, eyes locked on hers.
“But you… you weren’t supposed to happen.
” Jackie blinked, stunned silent. “You weren’t in the plan,” he said.
“And I hate that I think about you when I’m not supposed to, and I imagine a life with you, that ain’t mine to want. ”
Her eyes welled, lips trembling as the first tear slid down her cheek. “Then why even let me think we had a chance?” she asked, voice trembling. “Why open that door if you were always gonna close it?” He reached up and wiped the tear away with his thumb, slow and gentle, like it hurt him to do it.
“I didn’t plan this,” he murmured.
But before she could answer, he looked up and froze.
Because both his mother and Zambia were standing just outside the entrance.
Watching. He dropped his hand. And Jackie, sensing the shift—stepped back too, walls rebuilding in real time.
“I gotta get back inside,” she said quietly, turning without another word.