Chapter 8 #2
A few minutes later, Von strutted into the kitchen, radiating a carefree energy.
His humming filled the air, accompanied by a broad smile.
The sweet scent of cocoa butter clung to him, mixed with a hint of post-nut clarity.
His wild hair framed his face, and his robe hung loosely, barely tied, while his chest was thrust out confidently, as if he had just been unfolded like clean laundry and left to air-dry in the morning sun.
“Not you walking in here like you got a five-star review on Yelp this morning for ‘best arch game, grip strength, and emotional vulnerability’,” I kidded, squinting at him.
Von winked back at me with that familiar glint in his eye. “Good morning to you too, sunshine,” he replied, his voice playful.
“Just so you know, I heard you… we heard you,” I informed him, nodding pointedly at Mysun, who was blissfully preoccupied with his bottle.
Von chuckled. “Damn… I didn’t realize I was that loud.”
“Loud?” I raised a skeptical brow. “My child almost needed therapy before breakfast.”
Von covered his mouth, laughing. “Leave my nephew out of this.”
“I tried.” I chuckled. “Anyway, so, who is this one? Is he a newbie? He sounded like… fun.”
Von smirked as he moved to the counter, cracking eggs into a bowl.
“Oh, sis...” He placed one hand against his chest. “That man had me speaking in tongues, writing prayers in cursive, and briefly seeing my ancestors. I cried a little, lost feeling in one leg, and at one point, he stopped to ask if I was still alive.”
My mouth fell open. “And what did you say?”
“I told him, ‘Barely, but don’t let that discourage you.’”
I choked on a laugh. “You need professional help.”
“I got it this morning,” he shot back, shaking his head as he whisked the eggs.
“As for him being new, yes… and no. We’ve been talking for about six months, but last night was his first time crossing the threshold into Von’s Wonderland.
You know my rule: “Nobody comes in this house, sees my bedroom, or earns toothbrush privileges until they pass the six-month probationary period. I need time to make sure they’re not crazy, broke, boring, secretly married, or still sharing a phone plan with their mama. ”
“Yet you let him tear up the wall before you gave him a toothbrush?”
“Property can be repaired,” he replied solemnly. “Dental hygiene is a commitment.”
I giggled. “And what’s the verdict on this one?”
“He passed all three categories with flying colors.” Von paused, his expression turning unexpectedly dreamy. “Actually... I think he might be the one.”
I raised an eyebrow. “The one?”
“Yesssssss. He’s nice, patient, and owns three vape shops and a smoothie bar.
That’s multiple streams of income, sis. We love financial stability.
” He pointed the spatula at me. “And of course he’s fine.
His skin is smooth like somebody moisturizes him personally with warm shea butter every morning. ”
“Okay, entrepreneur with healthy skin. What else?”
“What really has me attracted to him—besides the dick—is that he listens. I can tell him something one time, and three weeks later, he still remembers it.” Von placed a hand over his heart. The nigga told me last night he wants to build a legacy and name a star after me.”
I blinked, the surprise evident on my face. “A star, Von?”
“A real one, boo! I Googled it! It’s two hundred dollars, but hey… it’s the thought that counts. Oh, and it comes with a certificate, too. My star gon’ be over Atlanta, near T.I. and Beyoncé!” he exclaimed, his excitement infectious.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re a fool. But I’m happy for you. You deserve something solid and real.”
Von paused, turning from the stove to give me one of those rare soft looks that spoke volumes without uttering a word.
“So do you,” he said, sincerity lacing his tone.
Then, because Von couldn’t allow a meaningful moment to survive longer than five seconds, he reached for Mysun like he hadn’t been committing sins loud enough to disturb the neighborhood less than fifteen minutes earlier.
“Uh-uh!” I smacked his hand playfully. “Don’t touch my baby. I don’t know where that hand has been.”
Von snatched it back, looking offended. “First of all, I washed my hands.”
“That don’t erase the history.”
Von snorted, his laughter echoing in the kitchen. “Second of all… you damn right. Last night, these hands were—”
“Von!”
He doubled over in laughter, pointing the spatula at me like a wand.
“Well, sis, you know me. Don’t ask questions if you don’t want the visual!”
Von turned back to the stove, still giggling, and I shook my head, trying to fight off a grin.
“Anyway, what exciting do you have planned today since you’re off?” he randomly asked, flipping the eggs with a flourish.
“If you call binge-watching old Disney movies with Mysun exciting, then buckle up, ‘cause it’s about to be a wild ride,” I replied, adjusting Mysun’s bib while trying not to think too hard about my lack of a fun life… or who was responsible for Von’s limp.
Von twisted his mouth in mock disapproval. “Kyn boo, you really need a man. I would say more friends, but I’m all you and Mysun need. I’m your babysitter, chef, entertainment, therapist, spiritual advisor, and occasional birth control reminder.”
“And you really need soundproof walls,” I quipped back, unable to resist.
“On my to-do list… right under ‘buy new sheets and a throat lozenge’,” he stated proudly.
I gagged. “TMI, von!”
“I’m just saying… your man could rub your feet while Mysun watches Finding Nemo. Boom! Family bonding!”
Then he faced me, that knowing smirk appearing just like a glimmer of mischief.
“You still dreaming about that man?”
“What man?” I asked, feigning ignorance, though a flutter of anxiety twisted my stomach.
“Merge, aka Mister Melt-Your-Spine Belvior.”
I stiffened. “How you know that?”
Von shrugged nonchalantly, like he had receipts to back up his claims.
“I went into your room earlier this morning to grab the cocoa oil and rose quartz I keep under your sink,” he admitted like he hadn’t just traumatized me with that sentence.
“I needed it for my morning back-blower. Girl, that man had me bent like a crescent moon and asking the ancestors for strength.”
“Goodness!”