Page 55 of After Midnight
Boogie laughed. "I know. That's why I'm calling. This shit ain't small for you."
"Nah, it ain't."
His voice dropped to a more serious tone. "You know I trust you, and I got your back one hundred percent. But if you wanna back out now, you wouldn't be wrong."
I squinted at the dashboard, where his voice poured out. "You called to get me to back out?" I asked, eyes returning back to the road.
"No. Just making sure you really thought this through," he clarified.
"You're the one who encouraged me to go on the date, Boog."
He sighed. "I know man. I know. I'm just worried about you is all. You're my brother, Rem. I just wanna make sure you're happy and protected. You've always been a soft ass nigga."
I laughed, stopping at a red light. "You're an asshole."
Boogie chuckled. "I know, but I'm serious," he continued tone getting serious again. "You're a sensitive type. A nigga like me can dibble and dabble without it meaning shit. You catch feelings. Plant roots. Shit is different."
His sincere tone made my chest feel warm. I knew how much he cared about me. And he was right. Even in college I wasn’t the playboy that women thought I was. I dated of course. Had more than a few steamy nights with co-eds, but never on the level that my fraternity brothers did. And when I met Kendrix my sophomore year, we locked in quick and that was it for me.
"I appreciate you, Boog. And I know you have concerns. Me too. But I swear I'm good. Don't worry."
He sighed again. I could almost see him nodding as he processed my words. "Aight, frat. Have a good night then. I'll drop by in the morning, check on you and my godson."
"Appreciate it. I'll see you tomorrow, bruh."
Absolutely."
We ended the call. For a moment, the thought of cancelling entered my mind, but I knew that was just nerves. I liked Gianna and that was all I needed to proceed.
It didn't take me long to get to my son's school. Melo was a ball of energy as usual when I picked him up. He shoved his impressive drawing of a dinosaur towards me when I arrived. "Look, Daddy!"
I squatted down to his eye-level smiling. "Wow. That's a good looking dinosaur, buddy."
He frowned, looked at the paper than back at me. "It's a dog," he corrected.
Damn. I took the paper, squinting harder. "You know what—my bad, son. Thatisa dog. "I nodded. "Daddy's just a little tired."
He giggled. "You silly. Can we get ice cream?" He jumped in my arms.
I stood with him and headed to car. "No. But you can have fruit salad. Extra watermelon."
"'Cause I'm Black?" he asked innocently.
I stopped in my tracks staring down at him. "No, because it's your favorite." I stared at him wide eyed. "Who taught you that?"
"Ti-Ti." He shrugged. "We watched adoc-u-meneray…did I say that right, Daddy?"
"Documentary," I corrected gently. "You watched it with Ti-Ti?"
Mmhm." He nodded. "And they said it on there. But I do like watermelon though, Daddy. And I'm Black."
I sighed and shook my head. "So do I son." I placed him in his car seat and buckled him in.
My sister was a political science major, a feminist and Angela Davis reincarnated. She was always watching some documentary about Black history, women's rights and teachingmy son facts. I wasn't mad about it. We all did, but she tended to go overboard for his age. She meant well.
We headed straight to my parents' house. Pops was still at work. He owned a construction company, and they were in the middle of building a huge library, so his hours were longer now. Mama was in the kitchen making dinner when we arrived.
"There's my Puddin' Pop." She grinned bending down as Melo barreled into her open arms.
