Chapter 3 #2
When I made it to the kitchen, I saw her.
And not the one that I was expecting. Instead of my eyes landing on my wife, I was met with her twin.
My baby girl, Maliah, was standing at the stove with an apron on, flipping pancakes with a grin that stretched from ear to ear.
She had chubby cheeks like her mother, so even with my side view, I could tell that there was a smile plastered on her face.
She spun around when she heard me and held her hands up like a little kid caught doing something she shouldn’t have.
“Good morning, Daddy!” she chirped as excitement practically vibrated off her.
I froze mid-step. I knew that grin, and my chest tightened at just the thought.
She’s about to say it. On the weekends, she didn’t stroll out of her room until about noon.
Shit, during the week, MJ had to be the one to wake her up for school.
Her getting up early and cooking was so obviously out of the norm.
“Uh, good morning, Mali.”
I cleared my throat as I adjusted the towel over my shoulder.
Suddenly, I was very aware of how much my heart was racing.
I tried that deep breathing shit that I had been coaching Eternity on for years.
Breathe, I thought inwardly. The shit was not working.
My baby girl was about to tell me some bullshit.
Maliah giggled, like she didn’t notice my panic at all, and flipped another pancake with a skill that she had to have learned from her mother or the cook.
“I made breakfast! I thought you’d like some after you, you know, was playing basketball or working out.”
This was a Saturday morning routine for me.
When I drove off in that golf cart, everyone knew that I was either going to the basketball court or the gym on our estate.
Friday nights were reserved for the gun range or date nights with Eternity.
I laughed nervously as I walked closer, but still I kept my distance as I took a seat on one of the island’s tall barstools.
My eyes locked on her face as my hands folded neatly on top of the marble countertop.
Patiently, I waited for her to rip my damn heart out.
It might sound dramatic, but as I keep stressing, this is my baby girl.
A smile was tugging at the corners of my mouth from just watching her, but I didn’t give in. This was no smiling or laughing matter.
Her energy was contagious, and she got that shit from her mother, but deep down, I knew what was coming. She had that sparkle in her eyes. That in-love sparkle that made me involuntarily screw my face up. I wondered how I didn’t notice this look of hers before.
“Mmhmm,” I said, trying to play it casual, like I hadn’t just had an internal freakout the second I saw her, “breakfast smells good, baby girl.”
She bounced a little on the balls of her feet with chipper pride.
“Thanks! I just wanted to make something special for you.”
I swallowed hard. Yeah… this is it. I could feel it in my bones. With that little smile, the way she was flipping pancakes like a little pro, and with the bounce in her step, I could tell. Maliah was about to drop the “I have a boyfriend” bomb.
I cleared my throat again, all while trying to keep my voice calm and steady.
“Aight, you’re cooking all this. You must have something to tell me,” I joked lightly, though the edge in my tone betrayed me.
I was trying to prompt her to get this shit over with. I was a straight-to-the-point kind of guy, always had been. Her grin faltered just a hair.
“Maybe,” she said, trying to act coy, but I caught it.
My baby girl was all grown up and in love, and here I was, suddenly realizing I had to act calm, collected, and not scare her off before she even started talking.
I rubbed the back of my neck, letting the smell of pancakes and bacon wash over me.
I was trying my hardest to stay chill. Alright…
Bleek, you got this. Just listen first, breathe later.
Internally, I had to coach myself for this moment.
She set the spatula down and looked up at me with sparkling eyes.
She had her hands clasped tightly together like she was bracing herself. My chest tightened again.
MALIAH
I took a deep breath while trying to steady my hands as I fidgeted with the edge of my apron.
Breakfast was sizzling, the smell of bacon and pancakes filled the kitchen, but I could barely focus on the food.
All I could think about was the words I was about to say, the truth I’d been holding in.
My eyes darted to Dad. He was casually sitting at the kitchen counter.
His demeanor seemed unfazed. It always had been.
When I come to think of it, I don’t think there was a time when I ever heard him yell.
He was always stoic with this monotone sound that just let you know that he meant business. He’s perfect to me. Just perfect.
After a quick sigh, I opened my mouth.
“Dad…”
And then MJ strolled down the stairs like he owned the place, grabbed a piece of bacon off the nearby plate, and plopped into the chair next to Dad.
“What’s up, Pops?” he said, chewing with his eyes twinkling. He batted his long lashes that we all had gotten from our father before he continued to talk with food in his mouth, “It smells good in here.”
My heart skipped a beat. Ugh, why now? I watched MJ take another bite of bacon.
He even did that, how he does everything else, confidently and unbothered.
I stared at him for a moment and froze. I couldn’t help but notice how he really did look like our dad.
He had the same dark complexion, same sharp jawline, and the same resting mean face that made people think twice before messing with him.
Only MJ had the casual, mischievous edge of youth that Dad didn’t have anymore.
I shook my head at my knuckleheaded brother and let out another sigh before trying again.
“Dad…”
But my voice caught in my throat. I opened my mouth, closed it, and stared at the counter like maybe if I looked down long enough, the courage would magically appear.
“Maliah?” Dad’s voice was calm, but his eyes were sharp as he noticed my hesitation.
I opened my mouth and then shut it again. MJ chewed slowly and gave me a side glance, like he knew exactly what I was thinking. He was teasing me silently. I inhaled deeply and let the air out in a sharp movement from my nostrils.
“C’mon, speak up, little mama,” MJ said while smirking. “Don’t leave us hanging.”
I groaned inwardly. Why is this so hard? I could feel my words tumbling around in my head. This topic was so damn sensitive, and I was afraid of the conversation going wrong. My heart was pounding. My palms were sweaty… and then a blur caught me out of my peripheral vision.
Mom stepped in with her silk robe wrapped around her. A towel was wrapped around her head, so I knew that she must have just washed her hair. She gave me that small, reassuring nod that always made me feel better about everything.
“Maliah,” she said softly. Her voice was calm but firm. “You can tell him,” she added.
I took a deep breath and focused on her. Her presence made the courage I’d been searching for finally appear.
“Dad… I… I have a boyfriend.”
The words tumbled out, nervous and fast, but they were out.
I watched his reaction carefully, my stomach twisted, as Mom moved closer, giving me the safety net I hadn’t realized I needed.
I took another shaky breath and finished the thought I’d been holding in for weeks.
Mom and I had rehearsed this, so I knew what to say next. I just had to spit that shit out.
“His name is Tahari, but everyone calls him Trigga. And I really like him.”
I twiddled my thumbs around each other as I was trying to steady my nerves.
MJ was sitting there, leaning back in his chair with one eyebrow raised, with a smirk plastered across his face like he’d been waiting for this moment.
My stomach curled. He knew exactly how nervous I was, and he loved every second.
“So, Trigga, huh?” MJ said after taking another bite of bacon. His smirk widened, and his eyes twinkled with mischief. “Interesting nickname. Is he named after a street legend or something? You know Pops was a real shooter back in the day, right?”
I froze as my words caught in my throat.
My cheeks burned red. Ugh, why is he like this?
He always tossed little comments out there about how Dad was back in the day, as if he knew.
Dad was a gentle giant in my eyes, and he didn’t give any kind of street vibes.
I rolled my eyes at him because I was clearly annoyed.
Before I could say anything, Dad’s hand shot out and slapped MJ upside the head with a sharp thwack that made the kitchen echo.
“Ow! Damn, Pops!” MJ yelped while rubbing the back of his head and grinning wider than ever.
Dad turned to me with narrow eyes, but there was no joke in them.
“Maliah, I want to meet this little friend of yours. You hear me?” His voice was calm, but the weight behind it made my stomach tighten.
I nodded quickly and then found the courage to finally find my voice.
“Yes, Daddy. I mean, you can… we can.”
“No, I’m serious,” he interrupted while standing from his chair.
He stepped closer, and his eyes softened just a little as they rested on me, but the firm edge was still there.
“Invite him to dinner… tonight. I want to see who’s got the nerve to tell my daughter to call him Trigga.
Fucking Trigga. Not Tigger like Winnie the Pooh? ” he genuinely asked.
I just shook my head no. MJ snorted, trying not to laugh, all while still rubbing his head.
“Man, he better know what he’s getting into,” MJ said with a light chuckle.
I couldn’t help but envy him because in a couple of months, he would be out of this house and wouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit.
The first step to really growing up was to tell my dad all about Tahari, which I had just accomplished.
Next up was for them to meet, and I was so damn nervous for tonight.
I could barely speak. My words were stuck somewhere between excitement and fear.
Dad’s protective aura was heavy and slightly intimidating.
It was him being a father, my father, and I knew that he meant well.
I knew that he just had my best interest at heart.
So, I tried my best not to let his reaction get the best of me.
Still, hearing him call Tahari my “little friend” instead of my boyfriend made my heart sink a little.
Dad leaned back against the counter with his arms crossed.
“Maliah, this little friend better treat you right. I’m not playing. If he ever fucks up, and I mean misstep in any shape or form, he’s not just gonna get my words, he’s gonna get a lesson. Understood?”
I nodded so quickly I thought my head might fall off.
“Yes, Daddy.”
MJ chuckled while glancing at me again with his smirk still there.
“Man, this is wild. Pops is about to meet ya little boyfriend. Get ready, sis.”
I couldn’t help but laugh nervously as my hands fidgeted with my apron.
Deep down, my heart was racing. Dad sighed like the weight of the world was on his shoulders before he started to walk away.
And just like that, I realized he wasn’t just thinking about Tahari.
He was thinking about keeping me safe and about making sure my little heart stayed intact.
I appreciated him for it, but I was a big girl, and I had to learn from my own mistakes.
If I had to fall and scrape my knee a bit, then so be it.
It was my lesson and mine only to learn.
“Daddy, your food,” I said as he started to walk out of the kitchen.
“I’m not hungry, baby girl,” he said casually before climbing the stairs.
I’m sure my news had ruined his appetite, and I felt like shit because of it.
“It’s okay, baby girl, he just has to feel it right now. Let him sit in it for the moment. He will be okay by later. Text Tahari and tell him to be here by eight. I’ll text the chef and have him put something together.” Mom kissed the side of my head before following Dad upstairs.
“Morning, Daddy, morning Mom!” Maylee eagerly said as she rushed past our parents down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“Ooo, breakfast,” she cheered, “why you look like that, sissy?” Maylee asked me as she plopped down onto the chair that Dad had just gotten up from.
“Because she finally told Dad why she had been sneaking out. Looks like your run with conning her out of her clothes is over with,” MJ said before snatching up another piece of bacon.
“Dag,” Maylee sighed out before grabbing a piece herself.
I pulled my phone out of the pocket of my pajama pants.
Tahari had more than enough time to get it together and make it to my house tonight.
Dropping me off on nights I snuck out was one thing, but being invited behind these gates was something totally different.
I patted the phone in my hand before shooting him a text.
I didn’t know why, but I was nervous as hell for him to meet my family.
More importantly, his expressing that he would love to meet them was one thing, but sitting at a table with them was something totally different.
I hope he really meant it when he said that because now his ass is coming to dinner.