Chapter 18
DUKE
"Yeah, hello?” I said, answering the phone.
“This Duke?” asked the nigga on the other end.
I sat up with dipped brows. “Yeah. Fuck is this?”
He took a deep breath. “Aaron. I come in peace, my nigga.”
“Fuck you want?” I asked, staring across the backyard with a frown on my face.
I was in my feelings. Had been in my feelings since we told the kids about the divorce.
Yeah... we did that. About a week ago. And every day since had been spent with me with this chip on my shoulder.
I was pissed. Pissed about everything. So, the last person I wanted to hear from was Aaron’s bitch ass.
Hearing from him was damn near like hearing from Justin.
“Like I said, bro. I come in peace. I need to chop it up with you about some shit. Mom’s in the hospital. Blood pressure spiked. Blood sugar ain’t lookin’ good. She's doing bad right now. I got Diary with me, but I can’t keep her—”
“You gon have to keep her,” I cut in. “I can’t do shit about that right now.”
I didn’t give a fuck about Ms. Rochelle’s health. Didn’t care that Aaron couldn’t keep Diary either. He would. He didn’t have a choice. He loved his niece and wouldn’t leave her alone.
“Listen nigga,” he paused. “I’m not the enemy. I’m actually trying to work with you. But you gon' have to work with me too.”
“I can’t work with shit right now. I’m in a tough spot. Figure it out,” I said before I hung up on him.
With a deep breath, I ran my hand over the top of my thick hair.
I needed a cut. I needed a lot of shit. But I was stuck.
Not because the car was totaled either. I was stuck because I was heavy in my emotions.
Couldn’t seem to dig myself up out of them.
Telling the kids we were getting a divorce did something to me.
Fucked me up on a whole ‘nother level. Telling them made it real. Even without the papers.
Speaking of papers, I’d been on pins and needles every day, waiting for her to hit me with something.
She’d been, of course, distant, ignoring a nigga.
Leaving the room whenever I entered it. Giving me hell.
I couldn’t even get a conversation out of her.
We still slept in the same bed, because of my injuries, but she laid on the far, far left side, away from me with her back to me.
Not only had she been distant in the crib, she was barely there, spending countless hours at work.
I knew exactly what she was doing. She didn't want to be in the same house as me and I couldn’t blame her.
Every chance I got, I was pushing up on her, trying to talk.
Trying to fix what was already shattered.
I didn’t want to let up. I didn't want to accept things for what they were. Would have you? If you were losing the love of your life over something you did a long ass time ago? I didn’t want to lose my fucking family.
I’d gone over the top with gifts, sent her flowers, cleaned, cooked.
.. all with one fuckin’ arm and broken ribs.
I was healing but I was doing a lot with broken bones.
She didn't seem to give a fuck though. About nothing.
She had me looking crazy. The kids didn’t say much, but they didn’t have to.
They saw the sad shit. The other night, Aubry picked a dozen of old roses up off the island and threw them in the garbage.
She gave me a sad look and walked out of the kitchen without uttering a word.
Shit had been quiet around the house. Too quiet.
Kids didn’t laugh or play the same. The crib was cold. Especially Gabe.
I hadn’t talked to him.
Should have but I couldn’t. I felt like a disappointment.
Like I’d let my boy down. I was supposed to be an example.
We were supposed to be an example of what real love looked like.
With me as the head of everything, I was supposed to show him how to treat a woman.
Was supposed to teach him how to be a good husband and father.
How in the fuck was I supposed to do that now?
With everything crumbling? Was I supposed to go to my son and tell him I hadn’t treated his mother right?
Was I supposed to admit to fucking up and losing everything?
When I was supposed to be this great ass father? Shit was fucked up.
I was going to talk to him, though. Just... I needed a minute.
My phone rang and I picked it up with a deep breath. Same number. Same nigga. Aaron. With a deep breath, I answered.
“Yo?”
“I know where you stay at nigga. We can go about this the civilized way or we can take it there. It's up to you. I’m telling you nigga.... I can’t keep my niece.
Not like that. I need you to pull ya fuckin’ weight.
I understand the situation. I do. I mean, I really fuckin’ do.
But at the same time that ain’t got shit to do with her.
She can’t be with me. I got real shit going on out here.
I can’t be babysittin all day, every day nigga.
Figure it out or I’m droppin her off and I want you to pull that shit on me like how you did with—
“You pull up at my crib you leaving in a body bag, and I put that on her life,” I interrupted.
“I don’t know what the fuck you niggas take me for but I ain’t never been a ho.
The only reason that bitch nigga got away with what he got away with is because I wasn’t here.
Any other way, you would’ve been carrying him to his final resting place with five other niggas. You hear me?”
“Like I said bro... I’m not trying to take it there with you. Not over no paternity shit. If you give a fuck about my niece even a lil bit, you’ll move some shit around to make it so she ain’t gotta be in harm's way. You head me?”
I brushed my free hand over my head and let out a sigh.
Fuck was I going to do? I cut my ma off because I thought she told Mahogany.
I needed to fix that. Low key, I’d been thinking about calling to apologize to her for a couple of days now.
I just didn’t want to hear no shit about what was going on.
But I needed her. I needed her bad. I gave a fuck about Diary.
I cared about her just as much as I cared about the other kids.
I didn’t want her in harm's way. If this nigga Aaron said she’d be in danger if she stayed with him, I had to fix that. I had to make sure she was good.
“I need a couple days—
“I don’t have a couple days, bro. I got a couple hours for you. Meet me at moms' crib at five.”
I took the phone from my ear and saw that he literally was giving me a couple of hours. It was going on two. I told him alright and we hung up. As soon as we got off, I got back on the phone and called my ma.
With my head tossed back against the chaise, I put the phone to my ear.
“Hey ma,” I said, once she picked up.
“Mmhp,” She grunted. “I know I must be trippin—”
“I’m sorry, man. I fucked up.”
“Damn right you fucked up. What happened? She tell you how she found out?”
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. “Nah, she didn’t. I saw it with my own two eyes. Ol girl ex... he brought Diary to the crib.”
“I know you lying!” She yelled.
I belched. “Shit. I wish I was.” I paused and shook my head, thinking about it. “My bad ma. I apologize. I thought—
“You thought I was snitch muthafucka who ain’t got your back. That’s what you thought. I don’t know what the hell wrong with you. Name a time I ain’t have your back, Ducati.”
I paused and said nothing.
“Exactly. You can’t. If I say I’m in your corner, I’m in your corner. You hear me?” She stressed.
I nodded as if she could see me. “Facts.”
It was facts. I could trust my ma with my life. I just... what the fuck else was I supposed to think?
I let out a deep sigh and said, “We’re getting a divorce.”
My ma was quiet for a minute before she asked, “She hit you with papers?”
“Nah. Not yet.”
“Y’all ain’t getting no damn divorce. She ain’t goin nowhere,” she confidently said, as if she knew my wife better than I knew her myself.
I sucked my teeth and shook my head. “Nah, it’s happening for real. We told the kids. She don’t play about them kids. She wouldn’t have told them if there was a chance, ma.”
“Damn,” was all she said before the line went eerily quiet.
“Still though, Duke, you never know,” she said, trying to give hope to the hopeless. “It’s not real until you get them papers. You hear me? You hold your head, son. Don’t you be over there beating yourself up. Come over. I cooked and—“
“I fucked the car up. Got into an accident about a week ago—“
“And you didn’t think to call and tell me!? Why she aint call and tell me shit? See this that funny acting shit I be talking about. You alright?”
“Yeah ma. She probably didn’t call because she thought I would. I broke my arm and a couple ribs. I’m smooth. Recovering good. Truck just fucked up though.”
I didn’t know why Mahogany didn’t call her.
It wasn’t important. I didn’t give a fuck about much.
Just my family. Didn’t feel like explaining to her why I didn’t call her until now either.
I had too much shit on my mind, and that probably was the case with Mahogany, too.
Too much shit was happening. Too much shit had happened.
Moms was probably the last thing on her mind.
“Yeah…. Okay. Anyway… I’ll come to you. I miss my grandkids anyway and—“
“You don’t have to come all the way out here,” I said, shaking my head. “I was just calling to apologize for real and to tell you about the divorce.”
I ran my tongue over my bottom lip, hesitating to tell her why I really called.
She’d have something to say. She’d say I only called because I needed her help.
Which would only be half the truth. I didn’t just need her help—I needed her.
Shit was lonely. Suffering through this shit alone. I needed my ma.
“Look ma,”
“Aw shit.”
“I did call to apologize, right.”
“But...”