5. The Better Invitation
The Better Invitation
KYIRIS
Ipulled into the parking lot of Sullivan Distillery and spotted Baby Jay’s mother, India, sitting in her car amongst a few others.
Of Jay’s kids’ mothers, I didn’t like this young ho.
And I was very vocal about it. She was mixxy and wasn’t fit to be anyone’s mother, especially to an autistic child who required her patience and understanding.
I looked straight into her car and could tell she was prepped and ready to start some shit.
Turning off the engine, I glanced down at my feet, glad that I had decided to keep my sneakers on.
Not that it mattered forreal. Whether in sneakers, heels, socks, or barefoot, if I needed to slide a bitch then she was getting slid.
I knew it, my people knew it, and India knew it.
Grabbing my phone, I climbed out of my car and walked around to the front of it.
Leaning against the hood, I glanced over and caught her mid eye roll.
“I can swole them bitches shut if you don’t know how to play nice wit ‘em, Ms. India,” I said loud enough for her to hear with a car between us.
She did what was best and turned her head in the opposite direction. India knew how far to go with me without a crowd or Jay around to keep me off her ass.
A few feet away, the guys who worked security for the distillery stood posted up outside with their eyes sharp and on point.
Their job was to protect the business and those with the last name Sullivan.
Anyone else was handled accordingly. I sent a wave their way that they both returned.
King and Artez took their jobs seriously.
Lately, I found that King paid extra attention when I was around.
It wasn’t hard to figure out he was feeling me, but this wasn’t elementary school.
I wasn’t about to force no grown man to act on what he was feeling.
If he could bust his gun without hesitation, surely he could tell a bitch he liked what he saw and wanted some time.
My phone rang in my hand, and Jay’s name came up on the screen. I answered, pressing the phone to my ear.
“Yes, Jamison,” I greeted, calling him by his first name.
“Yeah. You there? I’m five minutes out, and the truck pulling up in thirty.”
“Yep. I’m here, like I said I would be. Ya baby mama here too, itching to start some shit.”
He sucked his teeth. “Man, don’t worry ‘bout her. I ain’t stuntin’ India. I been callin’ her ass for the last hour, and she ain’t been answering the phone. She lucky I don’t yoke her the fuck up.”
“Oh, nigga, I ain’t worried. You know I ain’t never been the one to do the back-and-forth. And I got called out here to pick up her slack? I’m definitely not in the mood. She betta handle whateva she need to handle with you and go head about her business.”
“Aight. Hold it down. I’m coming.”
I ended the call with him, and a group message came through from Aura with Enzo attached to it. They were stored in my phone as Thing 1 and Thing 2, Aura being Thing 1.
Thing 1: So, we can’t trust you in the club now?
I rolled my eyes before typing back.
Me: What you talkin’ ‘bout? And how you just throwing people in a group chat without their permission? How you know I want Enzo in my business?
Thing 2: Shit, he probably figured you wouldn’t care. You lettin’ niggas put their phone in ya bag and shit. An unauthorized group chat should be the least of your worries.
Thing 1: Just movin’ like you anybody. Like you ain’t been taught better.
I snickered. These were the most overprotective group of men on the planet.
Thing 2: What’s that nigga name?
Me: Damn. Can y’all give me a second to reply? I’m not giving you his name, Enzo. I’m good. He didn’t track me. I’ve seen him since and returned the phone. All good.
Instead of replying to me, they texted back-and-forth to each other.
To dismiss me like I wasn’t still a part of the chat was crazy.
By the time they were done with their exchange, Enzo had confirmed the club name with Aura and said he’d be reaching out for the camera footage and would find the guy himself.
I laughed because there was no point in them texting me anyway if that was the case.
Me: Are all hearts and minds clear?
Thing 1: Yeah. We’ll let you know wassup soon.
Shaking my head, I locked my phone and slid it into my back pocket.
Seconds later, Jay’s matte black Porsche turned into the lot.
I leaned up off my car just as India stepped out of hers.
As Jay pulled up in front of me, I could hear Maverick City’s Jireh playing.
I knew then that Baby Jay had either been cutting up or stimming real bad.
Either way, we’d learned recently that gospel music calmed him in those moments. Jireh was one of his favorite songs.
India was already power walking over as Jay stepped out of the car calmly. Shades covered his eyes, and his posture said he wasn’t in the best of moods.
“Why would you have me come all the way out here if you already called your cousin, Jay?!” she yelled.
“First off, watch how you talk to me,” he gritted. “Secondly, had you, his mother, answered one of my six calls, I wouldn’t have had to call my cousin to get him. You showing up now like our son is some type of inconvenience. You could’ve stayed where you was at. Fuck is you talkin’ ‘bout?”
I let them have at it and shifted my attention to Baby Jay. I opened the back passenger door where he sat in his car seat, rocking to the music, with his eyes closed and his hands clasped in his lap. My heart squeezed tight. This little boy was so special to me.
“Hey, Jay,” I spoke.
His eyes popped open when he heard my voice. Waving excitedly, he reached for the harness that held him in place in the car seat for extra safety measures. My boy was ready to get out.
“Out. Out, Keka,” he said, calling me by a nickname that only he used.
“Alright, man. I’m excited to see you too.”
I unbuckled him carefully, grabbed his iPad, Stanley cup, and his bookbag, and walked him over to my car.
Jay and India were still going at it, but I was swift, making sure to get him securely locked in in the car seat I kept in my trunk for him.
Checking every strap twice, I clicked the chest harness then rubbed his leg.
“All good?” I asked with a thumbs up.
He nodded and pressed his little thumb against mine.
“That’s my big boy.”
“You wanted me to get him, so I’m getting him,” I heard India say. “You can let my son out ya car!”
“One sec, Jay.” I clicked the child lock on and closed the back door.
“You gon’ make me beat yo’ ass out here you keep playin’, India,” Jay threatened, knowing he wouldn’t lay a finger on her.
The men in our family weren’t raised like that. India knew he wouldn’t hit her either. Which is why she always pushed it to the limit.
“You ain’t beating shit!” she spat. “Get my son.”
“He won’t, but you know for a fact I will.” I made clear, stepping in front of Jay, making her take a step back. “The same son you claim you want is the same son you didn’t even acknowledge when he pulled up. But you a bad bitch. You want your son, go to my car and get him.”
I moved to the side to give her space and me the opportunity. Her eyes shifted to Jay, then to me, then she looked behind her at security. Only she didn’t need to be concerned with the guys. It would be me putting hands and feet on her.
“You know what? Y’all stay thinkin’ y’all betta than somebody.
And the only reason I’m not snatching my son up out that car is because I don’t wanna scare him.
But what you,” she pointed her long acrylic nail at me, “need to remember is that I’m Jamison Jr.’s mother.
And the only people that have authority over him is me and this nigga. ” She pointed at Jay.
“First off bitch, we both know that ain’t the only reason or a reason at all.
You ain’t inched towards this car cause you know what I’ll do to you in this parking lot.
Now, I don’t know who you tryna convince that you actually want the title of mother, but there’s dogs out here with full litters of puppies that I would call a mother before calling you one.
And so long as that little boy sitting in that car has our last name and Sullivan blood running through him, I’ma be here.
So, miss me with the authority shit. And yes, yes, I am better than you. ”
She rolled her eyes and looked past me at Jay, like she was expecting him to jump in. But by the way he was standing, I knew he just wanted her to get the hell on.
“Fuck it. Jay, if you don’t have my son home tonight, we gon’ have a problem. And not in the streets, nigga. In court!” Storming back to her car, she hopped inside and peeled off so fast, she almost side swiped his Porsche.
“If she would’ve hit my car, I swear to God I would’ve shot one of her tires out. Wit’ her dumbass,” he spat.
“She wasn’t dumb when you fucked raw. Even after Grandma Lettie told you, ‘Make sure you strap up twice with that heffa.’” He cracked up laughing at my imitation of our grandmother.
“She dead said that shit and hadn’t even seen her face.”
I shrugged, opening my car door. “Said she didn’t have to. She didn’t like the way she chewed her gum over the phone.” I snickered. Grandma Lettie never gave a fuck and wasn’t afraid to let you know. “What time you picking him up?”
He glanced down at his watch. “Gimme two hours. He ate already. Snacks are in his bag, and the tablet is on a timer. He only got thirty minutes left on YouTube before the parental control kicks in.”
“Okay. Let me hurry up and get him to the house before then. I’ll see you in a few.”
“Aight. Thanks again for coming through, big head. Love you.”
“Don’t I always? Love you too.” Getting in my car, I reversed out of my parking spot and headed home.