20. Mercy
MERCY
I opened the door to see Givens standing on the other side with a mug on his face and his hands stuffed into the pockets of his Nike sweats.
Since leaving his house a few days ago, he had made it his mission to check in with me constantly.
We may not have seen each other because of our schedules, but that didn’t stop us from talking.
Today, I’d been busy with the girls and preparing for my season to start back up.
I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms over my chest. “What are you doing here?” I lifted my brow in question and waited. Truthfully, I was happy to see him, but I was standing firm on him having to work to get me.
“I missed you,” he answered with a shrug. “I told you that this morning when I texted you.”
“You did,” I nodded. “But that doesn’t explain why you are here.”
“You had dinner?” he asked, and I shook my head. “Can I cook for you?”
“Can you cook?” I laughed, and he smirked and wiped his hand over his head. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
“I can get down,” he chuckled, and I shook my head. “But truthfully, if you don’t trust me in your kitchen, we can grab something.” His eyes swept over me, and he licked his lips. “It ain't even gotta be fancy; just grab something quick and chill.”
I sighed and thought it over. Spending time with him sounded like a good idea, even if I was tired.
Instead of overthinking it, I grabbed my keys and purse from the table near the door and left.
Givens took my hand in his, walked us to the car, and helped me inside.
I watched as he rounded the car, his swag smooth and natural, and then he got in the car and drove off.
“Alright, so tell me something,” he said as he moved through my neighborhood towards the highway.
“What do you want to know?” I adjusted myself to get more comfortable and looked out the window.
“Shit, whatever you want to tell me,” he answered. “I know the basic stuff, so tell me something no one knows. Nothing serious, just something silly.”
“So you can use it against me?” I laughed and shook my head. “Nope, not happening.”
“Why not?” he chuckled. “I swear I won't tell nobody else.”
I playfully kissed my teeth and then sighed as I thought it over. “Alright, when I was little, I would sleep in my uniform the night before games because I thought it was good luck. And I never let Madea wash my socks if we won.”
“Man, what?” he snorted, and I looked over to see him covering his mouth with his hand to hold back his laughter. “Yo, I know yo shoes were funky as fuck.”
“They were,” I laughed, not the least bit ashamed. Every athlete I knew did something that would have other people side-eyeing them. “I knew it was bad when Krude said something about my shoes.”
“Yo grandparents never said anything?”
“No,” I answered and shook my head. “Madea and Granddaddy knew how important basketball was to me, even back then, so they let me be. As long as I had good grades and stayed out of trouble, I was fine living my life.”
We pulled up to a small hole-in-the-wall seafood spot, and Givens grabbed his phone from the cupholder and swiped it until he pulled up their website. He ordered his food and then handed me his phone. I picked a simple crawfish meal and handed it back.
“We got twenty minutes,” he said as he got comfortable in his seat. “So, how long have you been playing ball?”
“I thought you said you knew the basics.” I turned to face him and rested my head against the seat. The inside of the car was dark; a small amount of light came from the dash.
“I do, but I want to hear it from you because I know you say you fell in love with playing at a young age, but I want to hear you say it.”
“I started playing when I was three,” I answered, and he nodded.
“But I didn’t fall in love with it until I was fifteen.
” His brows went up in surprise, and I smiled.
“I started playing because my daddy wanted me to have something to do with my time. From what I can remember and what my grandparents tell me, my mama wanted me to dance, but my daddy wasn’t for it, so he signed me up for biddy ball.
I’ve always been tall, so it made sense to him. ”
“Why did it take you so long to fall in love with it, then?”
“It’s hard to explain,” I sighed. “I remember the last game my daddy saw me play; I was five. I remember the prayer he said before the game, how happy he was to see me play, how he yelled my name, and even afterward when we were heading home. He told me he knew I was going to be great, that I was going to do something great, and in the middle of all that celebrating and happiness, I told him I wanted to quit. I hated playing ball, and it felt like I spent all my time practicing.”
“And that didn’t end well?” Givens questioned, and I shook my head. “What happened?”
“He was hurt,” I answered softly. “Basketball was our connection, and I wanted it to end. He got mad, started fussing about me not being a quitter, and said that he raised me better than that. My mama tried to jump in and tell him that maybe basketball wasn’t my sport and that I could try something else, but he wasn’t trying to hear it.
They argued the entire drive to my grandparents’ house, and the entire time, I sat there pissed.
Even at five, I knew he wouldn’t let it go, and I hated the thought of playing ball even more.
When we got to my grandparents’ house, he told me that quitting wasn’t an option and I’d learn to love the game. ”
“He was right.”
“Yeah, but he never got to see me love to play the game.”
“How old were you when he died?”
“Five,” I answered, and his brow lifted in surprise. “My parents died in a crash that night after they dropped me off. Them and my aunt and uncles went to a concert, and a drunk driver hit their car. Everybody died except for Cross’s parents.”
Givens took my hand and kissed it. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I said, giving him a smile I knew didn’t reach my eyes. “It took me years and a lot of therapy, but I’m okay with it now.”
“So, how did you end up falling in love with playing ball?”
“My family,” I said and playfully rolled my eyes.
“After my parents died, I didn’t stop playing.
It gave me something to do, and I felt like I was keeping my daddy’s memory alive.
I practiced nonstop and played in any and every tournament, with any team that would have me.
By age fifteen, I was ranked, getting college offers, and the game started being fun.
My cousins and grandparents showed up to every game and cheered louder than anyone else. ”
“I can believe it,” he said. “They’ve been at every game so far and are always the loudest.”
“And for a reason,” I said, nodding.
“Let me guess, cuz of you and because Deuce swears Faylin is his wife?” he kissed his teeth and shook his head. He wiped his hand over his face and then checked the time on his phone. “Lil homie mugged me hard last game, and I had to remember he’s five.”
“He’s six,” I laughed. “And you might as well accept that Faylin may end up with Strong as a last name.” Even though I had no doubt that Deuce’s crush on Faylin would subside, I loved poking fun at the fact that it bothered Givens so much.
Faylin was beautiful, and I knew she would find someone who loved her properly; I wasn’t rushing anything or anyone on her too fast.
“Man, chill with that shit,” he said, shaking his head. “Lil homie gotta step back, or he’s gonna have to see me.”
“I don’t think he’s scared,” I laughed. Givens kissed his teeth and turned to look out of the window. I reached over, took his chin in my hand, and made him look at me. “Being with one of us isn’t too bad. We are a little off, but we always go hard for ours.”
“Oh yeah?” he questioned, and I nodded. “The same can be said from my way.”
“Then they are in good hands, right?” I questioned, and he smirked.
“Stop tryin’ to mack me down, DeCorte,” he laughed and looked me up and down. “You fine and all, but that doesn’t mean I trust my daughter with your cousin. Especially since he’s only six.”
I moved my hand from his face and laughed. “Go get the food.”
“I’ll be back,” he said, leaning over the console to kiss me before getting out of the car and entering the building.
While I waited, I checked my itinerary for the next few days.
Besides the girls' practice, I had my own and a few interviews to do. After checking over my schedule, I went to my social media and noticed I’d been tagged in a picture not even five minutes ago.
I clicked on it and couldn’t help but smile.
Givens uploaded a photo of our hands intertwined with the caption: “I wanted a homie, lover, friend and got that plus more.” It was a simple gesture that also showed that we weren’t a secret, but it wouldn’t get me to accept anything.
Over the years, people had become accustomed to just chilling a few times, having sex, and then being considered in a relationship.
I wanted to be courted and shown that I was worth the effort.
I wasn’t playing with Givens when I said my first mistake was coming to him instead of letting him approach me.
When he returned to the car, he put the food in the back seat, got in, and pulled off. We rode back to his house and went outside to his backyard.
“You know your greenhouse is pretty, right?” I asked in between bites of my food. “Psalms would love it.”
“She can come and check it out whenever,” he answered with a shrug. “And thank you.”
“For what?” I asked as I peeled crawfish. “I haven’t done anything.”
“For looking out for Faylin like you do,” he replied. “I know you look out for all the girls because you love them, but I see how you treat Faylin. It’s a little different.” He sighed and shook his head. “I can't even front; I know she needs it because Shai isn’t doing what she’s supposed to.”
“But she’s trying, though, right?” I questioned, and he shrugged.
Faylin mentioned that her mom was picking her up the last few nights after practice.
I would walk Faylin to the parking lot, and Shai would be in the car waiting for her.
We never said anything to each other, but I knew she’d been around more.
“I don’t know with Shai,” he said, shaking his head. “She likes to play games and make it seem like she’s trying, but one little thing will get her lost in the wind. And don’t let her get a nigga.” He laughed a humorless laugh. “She will go weeks without seeing Faylin.”
“Can I ask you a question?” I asked, and Givens nodded as he ate. “Are you one of those baby daddies that doesn’t want his baby mama with another nigga?”
“Fuck no!” Givens denied. “We haven’t been together in years. I want her to be solid for Faylin. When my season starts back up, I’ll be busy as fuck between games, practice, and traveling. I need for her not to be worried about some nigga or whatever and be solid for our daughter.”
“And if she’s not?” I couldn’t help but ask. “What will happen?”
“I haven’t even thought about that,” he denied, shaking his head.
“You’ll figure it out,” I said, patting his hand. I wanted to offer my help, but I didn’t want to overstep. It was one thing to coach his child and allow her to spend the night one time, but to insert myself into their life that much seemed like overkill.
“I don’t have any other choice,” he said with a shrug. “If it comes down to it, I’ll hire a nanny or something.”
“What about your family?” I asked, and he scoffed.
“It would cost me more to pay my mama and sister than to hire a nanny,” he said, shaking his head.
We never really talked much about his family, but I could tell it was a sore spot for him.
“My family ain’t like yours, DeCorte. You got good people in your corner; I got money-hungry ones in mine.
” He sat back and chuckled lowly. “My mama and sister ain't seen Faylin since she was three months old.”
“Why?” The thought of not seeing my family for months pissed me off, so I couldn’t fathom the idea of going years.
“Money,” he answered with a humorless chuckle.
“I brought her over when she was little so they could meet her, and they didn’t even bat a lash at her.
Instead, they put their hands out for money.
I said no, and my mama put me out of her house.
We didn’t talk about it for almost six months and that was only because she reached out to ask me for money.
My answer was the same then and every other time. ”
“So you don’t have any contact with them?
” I asked, and he shook his head no. “That’s on them, then.
You and Faylin are too special to waste your time and energy on them.
If they don’t realize that, then that’s their fault, not yours.
And honestly, you don’t need them; the DeCortes are selfish and don’t like sharing anyway. ”
Givens raised his seat and leaned across the table to get in my face. “Keep saying shit like that, and you’ll have my last name.” he quickly kissed me then sat back down. “Now, finish your food so I can take you home. We both have a busy schedule tomorrow.”