Chapter 11 #2
We sat down, said grace, and got into breakfast, everybody easing into small talk the way families do when they finally got a moment to just be normal for once.
My mother was glowing, going on and on about old memories with Zaire, bringing up stuff from when we were kids that had all of us laughing at the table, even Namier who usually couldn’t sit still through no meal without cracking a joke of his own.
In the middle of all that, I brought business up. I just couldn’t wait because the shit was heavy on my mind.
“Starting tomorrow,” I said, looking between Namier and Zaire, “everything goes back to business as usual. Today’s the Lord’s day, so we let niggas enjoy breathing. But whatever problems we got, they finna get solved real soon.”
“While you speaking in code, Kaseem,” my mother said, setting her fork down slow, “I hope you ain’t still making calls to put everybody in jeopardy.
The situation with what happened to Zaire, I’m gonna handle that myself.
I gave you a chance and you made it worse instead of better.
So now I’ll see to it personally.” She looked around the table like she was daring anybody to challenge her on it.
“You know I hate talking business at my table, so let me wrap this up quick. I forbid you from making any more moves toward them Brick Boyz.”
I let out a deep laugh, the kind that came out before I could even think about it, but I cut it short real fast when I looked at her face and realized she meant every word of that.
“That ain’t your call to make no more, Ma,” I said.
I looked over at my father, hoping he’d back me up, but he was sitting there quiet, clearly caught between not wanting to go against his wife at her own table and knowing good and well that what she was asking for wasn’t realistic given everything that had already happened.
“Kaseem,” my father said finally, “if it’s that important to her, let her handle that piece while you focus on running the operation and getting your brother settled back in at home.” my father finally spoke. It was clear that his wife had him by the balls.
That’s when Zaire set his own fork down.
“Ma, what’s up?” he said, and the whole table went quiet because Zaire didn’t talk much, so when he did, everybody listened.
“I been waiting to get home so I could ask you this face to face. What’s the deal with them niggas?
You ain’t never been this scared of nobody a day in your life.
What’s up with that?” He leaned back in his chair, studying her.
“I’m starting to think you getting soft.
And if that’s the case, then maybe it’s best you let Kaseem run things full time and you sit all the way back.
After everything that’s happened, and somebody putting a hit on my life in that prison, I think it’s best I personally handle that situation with my brothers.
Not some niggas you hired to do it for us.
The fact that you know what they did to me, shit, especially what they did to Darius and now you want us to tuck our tails, that’s crazy Ma. ”
My mother’s mouth actually dropped open a little bit, disbelief written all over her face that her own baby was talking to her like that at her table. She thought Zaire could do no wrong, but here he was calling her out.
She looked between the both of us, then her eyes landed on Tatti.
“This conversation is over,” she said, her voice going flat and final. “I said what I said, and all of you know better than to talk this reckless when we got a guest sitting at the table. No moves will be made unless I call them!”
“Guest?” I said, feeling my chest tighten up at that word. “This my wife. Ain’t nothing you can’t say in front of her. She knows exactly who we are and what we do.”
My mother didn’t respond to that, just picked her fork back up and went back to eating like she hadn’t just tried to shrink my wife down to a stranger sitting at her table.
I looked over at Tatti and saw something sitting on her face that almost looked like fear.
She looked nervous, distracted, like her mind had already left this table and gone somewhere else entirely.
Was it the situation with her daughter and her aunt that weighed on her still?
I needed to figure out what was on her mind and fix it.
I made a mental note to ask her about it the second we got a minute alone.
“Well. I think next Sunday I’ll bring my girl to breakfast. I mean, she ain’t my girl yet but give me a minute. She gone be wanting to marry a nigga,” Namier joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“Namier, please!” My moms raised her hand, too annoyed to entertain him right now. He just shrugged.
—
The rest of breakfast was quiet with everyone clearly in their own thoughts.
I noticed Zaire still wincing in pain a little so I texted the family doctor and told her to come to the compound within the next couple of hours to care for Zaire.
Before he got out, I had already made her aware of his situation, that way she could be prepared to be on call whenever he got home.
When I promised my brother that I was going to get him out, I meant just that.
So I had made arrangements for him. Zaire handle, paying well, and try to hide it, but I was his big brother, and I knew exactly what was going on.
I was going to make sure that he didn’t get an infection, or none of the other bullshit.
As I looked around the table, all that I could think about was how much I had on my plate. And I didn’t mean the food at all.