Page 86 of Big Mad
Iglanced over the Mississippi, always muddy, always on the move, but calm today. The lavender evening sky made me think God did acrylics on the side. I’d seen this sky before with my son. I still couldn’t believe that Madison hadn’t wanted to sell the house after all it took for her to return. But I understood that her inability to come home was an issue she needed to resolve, and I was glad she had settled in again. She agreed we should blend new memories with the old ones we would always cherish.
I leaned on my home’s deck railing, watching my wife, barefoot, as she glanced behind her.
“Y’all ready?” She called out to a flock of female followers.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” I shouted. Lifting my whiskey to my mouth, I muttered, “Ready for all y’all to go home.”
“Hush.” She stuck her tongue out at me, as if the wind carried my grumbling.
Momma smirked, coming to the wooden rail at my side. “Mô garçon, you see that there silver seashell?” She nodded her chin to the nautical decor at the edge of the rail as if ready to hit me with it. Woman had been picking out objects for our ass since we were kids once she’d worn out the belt. And I mean worn it out. The leather torn so badly no amount of oil, sewing, or duct tape would save it.
Scratching my brow, I decided to be bold and mention the subject. “Momma, must you always point to objects for abusive purposes? It was a joke. A small joke.”
“Y’all tore up my belt, that’s why. Now, leave the jokes to my inheritedgarçon.” She nodded her head to Nico, always seeing him as one of her sons. My brother’s and my oldest friend, and millionaire-comedian, had a crowd of women around him as he lay on a pool chair. Cason sat nearby, ready for the women Nico discarded to drop at his feet like coconuts. Momma shook her head and muttered about finding both of them agoodwoman while she walked away.
I continued to watch my bride, captivated by her. She made a fake toss over her shoulder. All the women, aside from the ones flirting with Nico, rushed forward. Phoenix demolished half a cupcake and halfheartedly waved her hand. Madison faked over her other shoulder. If she didn’t throw those flowers soon, these women would either fall into the pool from exhaustion or attack her.
Five minutes later, Madison glanced back again, still holding the flowers. “Hey, Zuri, you secure the bag.”
“That bouquet is mine, sis! Toss it this way,” Zuri replied.
“No.” Genèse’s deep growl reminded me of a Power Ranger during metamorphosis.Way to take me back to my childhood, Sasquatch.“It’s mine!”
“Wait. The bouquet toss is for the single ladies.Ahem.” A colleague’s date went silent when she saw my cousin’s face, realizing she wasn’t for play play. While the rest of our family knew Genèse was about that free-range life and let her run rampant, I would intervene if Sasquatch threw a hairy knuckle.
Texas sauntered over, shaking his head. “Word on the street is Genèse’s husband has been hitting the strip club too much. I offered to handle that.”
“The legal, federal way?” I asked because my brain still insisted on living in a functional society, even if my brother was FBI. “I doubt federal agents handle domestic pole-dancing disputes.”
Maybe that’s why my little cousin was extra evil today. Had Genèse started crying during lunch with the girls because she didn’t want Zuri to enjoy wedded bliss while someone’s funky-ass G-string drew a line down her marriage? This was speculation, but the woman would become even more combative if I asked.
“Bruh, I’m above the law.” He tapped his beer against my drink.
“Oh, so you can’t try my black label?” I asked, gesturing to my neat glass.
“I’m good. Once you try what we had, you don’t go back.”
“What was the brand?”
He shrugged, watching the women again. “Came gifted in that decanter.”
His words hit me.Who wants to be a big lie their whole life, big brotha?What foolishness had Texas gotten into to be rewarded with that cognac? I glanced over my shoulder at the Bifold patio doors leading to my house. I asked, “Why isn’t your soon-to-be bride down there? Even Zuri and Sasquatch want that bouquet. Your behavioral profiler’s family-oriented, right? Sell the show?”
“Bruh, shut yo’ mouth.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Nalah’s making me another plate. Gotta act the part in front of Momma. Thanks for going buffet style.”
“Mm-hmm, don’t take the top portion of the cake.”
“Man.”
“Yes, we’re doing that ritual where we eat the top part in a year. At least we’re trying to. We didn’t have enough the first time.”
Texas scratched the back of his neck.
I set my jaw. “How can you eat so much? You were a kid when we got married.”
“Was I, though?” Texas lifted his bottle and took a pull as my wife tossed the bouquet.
Not far enough.
