Chapter 2
“You sure you’re good, Steph?” Tavia asked as she walked me out front.
Dinner was over, and I was heading out. I hadn’t even planned to stay and eat.
I stopped by after my photoshoot to see Kalia since she was home for the weekend, and it had been a while since I’d seen my girl.
As usual, Tavia and I got to talking then wine was poured.
Before I knew it, I’d been there for five hours, and she was telling me to stay for dinner.
That was usually how it went whenever I visited her or Allison, especially these days.
“I’m fine, Tay. You don’t have to worry about me.”
She grabbed my hands. “But I do. You’re my sister, Steph. I can always tell when something is off with you.”
“I’m just a little tired.”
She frowned. “You taking care of yourself?”
“Yes. I just haven’t gotten much sleep this week. My mind has just been a little restless.”
“Anything you want to talk about?”
I shook my head. “No. Small things to a giant.”
She eyed me skeptically. “You call me if you ever need to vent. Me and Allison will come right over with wine. I can leave these kids with their daddy and come right over. We are overdue for a girl’s night, anyway.”
“We are.”
She smirked at me. “I guess you’ll have to make do with our baby daddy until then.”
Senior left about ten minutes ago, letting me know he would see me soon. Of course, she heard that shit.
“Don’t start, Tavia,” I warned.
She giggled. “I’m just saying. That man goes out of his way to ensure you’re okay.”
“He does that for all of us.”
“Girl please. You know as well as I do that Senior takes special care of you.”
“He’s literally one of my best friends. That man hasn’t said or done anything inappropriate with me in years. He’s been nothing but respectful.”
“Goodnight, Stephanie,” Tavia said, waving me off. “I’m not living in the land of delusion with you right now. Emmy! Jaiden! Come say goodnight to Auntie Steph!”
I rolled my eyes as I heard the approaching footsteps of my babies. Emmy slammed into me, wrapping her arms around my legs.
“Night, Auntie Steph!” she sang, looking up at me.
“Goodnight, Emmy Cakes.”
“Night, Auntie,” Jaiden said, kissing my cheek.
My boy was fourteen now, and I still wasn’t used to the deepness of his voice.
“Goodnight, baby.”
They disappeared back inside as Tavia and I shared an embrace.
“Love you, sis,” she said.
“Love you too.”
I trotted downstairs and to my car. After cranking up, I backed out of the driveway and headed home.
I’d had just enough time to shower and change into my lounge set before Stanley got to my house.
He must have called up one of Blake’s corner boys because he couldn’t have gone back to the compound and gotten here that quick.
When I opened the door, he was leaning against the frame with his hands in his sweatpants pockets looking like the handsome devil he was. Just like fine wine, he’d aged gracefully. The only giveaway to his fifty plus years of age were the gray hairs of his beard.
Standing at six feet two, he had the body of a man half his age and the youthful look to match.
That bald head and salt and pepper beard complimented him so well.
Those dark brown eyes used to have my panties wet every time he stared at me.
It had been too long since I’d been with a man, and I had to look away from him.
“Come on in,” I said, stepping aside.
He pushed off from the door frame and stood to his full height. He sauntered past me, stopping briefly to kiss my temple. I smiled softly as I closed the door.
“We can go out back,” I said, nodding toward the kitchen. “You want a beer or something?”
“A beer is fine.”
“Good. You know where they are.”
He laughed. “Really, Steph?”
“Again, you are no guest, and your hands aren’t broken.”
I held out my hand. He shook his head as he pulled a small brown paper bag from his pocket and handed it to me. Inside was the weed and a few packs of wrappers.
“Thank you kindly.”
“I’ll be out there to roll that for you because you know you still can’t roll shit after all these years.”
I stuck up a middle finger and bumped him as I walked past him and out to my back deck.
After lighting the fire pit, I curled up on the lounge chair and tossed the brown bag on the table.
Senior waltzed out and took a seat next to me.
He placed two beers on the table between us and picked up the brown bag.
“You care to tell me why you haven’t been sleeping?” He asked as he broke down a nub of weed.
“Nope.”
“You hardheaded just like your son. And you wonder why he acts the way he does.”
“Because he’s his daddy’s son.”
He chuckled. “For real, Steph. Your mental good?”
“Yes, Stanley.” I was quiet for a moment before heaving a heavy sigh. “I started menopause. I know, I know. It’s late as hell. I thought the same thing, but my doctor ensured me I was fine. Anyway, that’s why I haven’t been sleeping much and not feeling like myself.”
He paused. “You need anything?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m just adjusting. On the bright side, if I ever decide to date again, I don’t have to worry about getting pregnant.”
We shared a small laugh.
“Can you imagine your dramatic ass son if you get pregnant at our age? He’s gonna do the most.”
I rolled my eyes. “The absolute most. He’d go to the extreme and we would end up childless parents because I’d kill him. He wasn’t happy about me dating in private so I know he would lose his shit if a baby was in the cards.”
I popped the cap on the beer and took a swig as Senior finished rolling the blunt. He lit it, took a pull, and passed it to me. I mimicked his actions, allowing the potent substance to marinate in my lungs.
“You know,” I said, relaxing into the chair. “I’ve been thinking about adopting or fostering a kid.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, I have the space and the time. Plus, I would appreciate the company. This house is beginning to feel too big for me. I got used to it being filled with love and laughter again. Now it’s just… it feels empty.”
I pulled my legs up and tucked my feet under me.
It had been four years since I lost my husband to an aneurysm.
The home that was once filled with laughter, slow dances in the living room or kitchen, and intimate moments felt cold at times.
I missed Aaron, but I’d learned to celebrate his memory instead of mourning his loss.
My husband was good to me. He loved me unconditionally and put me in my soft girl era, as my daughter in-law called it.
We had a few good years together before he was taken. These days, I tried to live life the way he would have wanted for me. He always told me that if his eyes closed before mine, he didn’t want me to wallow in my grief. He said I had to accomplish everything we’d put on our bucket list.
I’d done that.
Now it felt like there was nothing left to do.
“A kid?” Senior asked with a grin. “Not Ms. Your Son Was Enough thinking about taking on motherhood again.”
I pointed at him. “First of all, your son still needs parenting. Let’s just start there. How does he live on your compound and still call me for everything?”
“Because he’s a mama’s boy. You should have been popped the titty outta his mouth.”
I grabbed the pillow next to me and threw it at him.
“Leave me and my overgrown baby alone.” I couldn’t help but giggle.
“He might be receptive to a little sister, but a brother… he’s gonna torture the boy and call it an initiation.
Remember how he used to do the boys before they were smart enough to know they were being played? ”
Senior chuckled. “Oh, I remember. I had to threaten his ass too many times about trying to bully my kids. But let somebody else bully them and he was beating ass. Now they’re all like that.
Smoke loves to fuck with Quaid but let somebody else say something about that lil’ nigga, and he’s ready to beat their ass. ”
I shook my head. “I really helped you raise five kids. That’s crazy.”
“I guess that means I owe you if you adopt or foster. Hell, what’s one more?”
It was crazy as hell that we were having this conversation. Then again, was it really? Senior had always been my best friend and we would always be a part of each other’s lives, even with the kids being grown as hell. We were family, and I didn’t take that lightly.
I was sure people thought I was crazy to give a damn about that man. There were so many rumors about us as a family unit.
Senior has a harem of women.
He takes turns with us at the same time.
He’s a serial cheater.
He has project twins.
Now, Maceo and Smoke are nine months apart, but they shared the same mother.
Yes, the kids were kinda close in age, but there was no cheating going on back then.
Another woman had never been the reason he and I didn’t work out.
Well aside from Maddie, but even then, we didn’t have a relationship for her to break up.
We were just messing around. Back then, I cut my loses when I saw the looks passed between them.
He cared for her. If he wanted to move on, who was I to hold him back, knowing I didn’t plan to give us another real chance?
Senior had this problem where if he fixated on something, he would slightly obsess over it in most cases.
When I first met him, it was getting money.
He thought that shit would impress me, and it never did.
Even though I came from humble beginnings, I was never wowed by other people’s pockets. For what? It wasn’t my money.
Once he left the drug business, he was fixated on doing something good.
That’s where the Dillinger Organization came into play.
I felt like he wanted to undo years of wrongdoing in his own community.
Honestly, I don’t feel like he ever shared the same values as his family.
He was just expected to follow a certain path.
Once he was forced to find his own footing, he didn’t look back.
The man was an amazing father to Deuce and his other children as they came.
However, the higher his demand rose, the more he couldn’t be an attentive and present partner.
He chose to give his all to the organization and his kids same as he did when he was selling drugs.
There were too many times where I tried to make it work again because I loved him.
It just didn’t.
That wasn’t to say that he didn’t love me back.
I never questioned that, even all these years later.
Plain and simple, he was married to his job.
It took me a long time to accept that and walk away from a romantic relationship with that man.
It didn’t help that I was still having sex with him occasionally.
The cherry on top was me having a yearlong affair with his ass.
Ghetto shit.
“Steph?”
The sound of Senior calling my name broke my thoughts. I blinked rapidly as my gaze focused.
“Hmm?”
“You good, love?”
“Yeah… yeah. Must be the weed.”
He chuckled. “I told you it would mellow you out. Your eyes are low as hell.”
I giggled. “I’m gonna have a good night’s sleep tonight.”
“I’m sure you will. I’ll roll the rest of this and leave it with you.”
“Thank you.” I reached over and pinched his cheek. “You always take care of me.”
Grabbing my wrist, he kissed the palm of my hand. “I got you, baby.”
I sat back watching him as he rolled four more blunts. He was different with me since Aaron died. Where he’d always been a flirt with me, it was almost nonexistent now. He barely sat close to me. There were no jokes of us getting back together to annoy our son.
He was respectful of my feelings and my healing.
To be honest, he was part of the circle that kept me going in the months after losing Aaron.
Stanley had been by my side every step of the way, but never overstepped boundaries.
He’d come over to bring food, cook for me, or clean up around the house.
He made me get out of bed and get some fresh air, even if it meant walking around the neighborhood in silence.
I’d cried in this man’s arms on countless occasions, and he’d never used my grief as a way back in.
I respected and loved him for that. I saw the growth in him over the years since his retirement.
He was still that same goofy ass man that was all about his kids and grandbabies, but he had this aura about him now.
Visibly, I could tell he was at peace with life.
Even if he never complained about it, I knew he needed that.
Shit… we all did.