2. Sincere Kamar Kensington
I’m tired and should have drunk more than the one cup of coffee I had to help me get through this day.
But I have to complete these trial notes and don’t feel like taking a break just yet.
Hopefully, I’ll be able to get out of here early so I can get some rest. Staying late tonight sounds as appealing as a TV dinner after a long and trying work day.
“I heard Marjorie sucks a mean dick. Do you think I should find out if the rumor is true?”
I lift my head with my eyes pinched and wrinkles across my forehead. Of all the interruptions I block on a given day, this is the one that has caught me completely off guard.
“Where’s Cynthia?”
Cynthia Wright doesn’t allow anyone to enter my office without having an appointment. She also always announces the person before she walks them through the doors. The fact that he was able to get in lets me know that my assistant is either slipping or he’s turned on his charm.
“She ain’t out there. Now, what do you think? Should I take Marjorie for a spin or not?”
“Why is this something you need my opinion and input on, man?”
Kairo Kensington has raised three exceptional kids, which should be commendable, but in moments like this, I wish my egg donor had reconsidered her decision to walk away. Or why I’m the only one who has to deal with his shenanigans.
“Most of the guys have had the opportunity to pass Marjorie’s soup coolers around like she’s a buy-one, get-one-free dealer, so I need an unbiased opinion.” He shrugs like we’re talking about the rain chances for today’s forecast.
I pick up my phone and send a text to the group chat between my sisters and me.
Sibling Chat
Me:
Why is KK in my office with questions on his dick’s potential suitors?
Sarai:
Lord, who forgot to switch out the little blue pills and replaced them with M her words, not mine.
That might be true if her son didn’t go back to said friends a millisecond after he touches down in the city.
“You’re coming through for my party, right?” Jamarion asks.
See, this is what I mean. Aunt Dorinda is tired of her baby going to jail, but she never fails to give him a welcome-home party like he’s returning from college or active duty.
At this point, I’m not sure if Jamarion or Aunt Dorinda is the villain in his horror story.
If Auntie keeps coddling this grown man like a baby, he won’t learn that some things in his life have to change.
“Why your ass ain’t saying shit, cuz?”
“Another one?”
“Fuck you mean? I’m home after being locked down for almost six years. That shit deserves a party.”
I take my eyes off the road and look at Jamarion and smirk at the deep frown and wrinkles on his forehead. I shake my head before I answer.
“This ain’t your first rodeo.”
“Man,” Jamarion says in a dramatic fashion that causes me to chuckle lowly. “Come kick it with your family, cuz. I can’t make any guarantees, but I now have people depending on me to at least stay on this side longer than I usually do.”
Now my forehead wrinkles, and my eyes pinch as my mind spins with scenarios for his cryptic words.
“Don’t tell me you and Auntie have been hiding a kid and their mother all this time.”
A thunderous shout of laughter comes from Jamarion, but I wait for him to provide me with the context of his statements.
There’s nothing funny about him getting a woman pregnant and then being gone for years.
I will never support a man who is not taking care of his responsibilities, family or otherwise.
There are too many innocent children out here trying to figure out their lives because reckless men thought it was cool to be absent.
It’s a narrative I will never support or condone.
My father is often a rebel and does things that make me question his sanity.
But he has always been about my sisters and me.
“For your judgmental-ass information, if I had a kid, this wouldn’t be how I tell you.
I also wouldn’t be living so recklessly.
I ain’t that drug-dealing nigga, so rest easy, cuz.
When I get the chance to experience that blessing from Big Homie, my life will look totally different.
Now, are you coming to the party, or are you gonna continue acting brand fucking new? ”
“I’ll be there. Just make sure you let me know the details in advance.” After his little heartfelt speech, there is nothing else for me to say.
“I got you, and before we finish this ride, . . . thank you for continuing to represent me. I don’t take the shit lightly because although I pay your retainer, you could still refuse to see about my Black ass.”
“True enough. But you’re lucky I love you and don’t want to see you get railroaded by the system or any other defense attorney.”
“I love your ass too. Family over everything.”
I love my cousin regardless of who he is, and I was planning to attend his party whether I agreed with the motive or not. I just pray that whoever he referred to moments ago will be the motivation he needs to keep his Black ass out of jail and off my calendar.