“Soak all of this up because, after this, that’s it. Nigga, I done let you mess up two hot girl summers for me, back to back. That’s it,” I said in all honesty.
“Yea,h right. I love you, shorty. You carry my kids well. Real fuckin’ well,” he complimented, making me smile.
“I love you too, baby,” I let him know.
Jabari and I were at a point in our relationship where we were fine. That ex bitch Kenyatta of his had sold her shop and taken her ass back to Atlanta, where she belonged. She was just a topic of the past now because after I beat her ass in that parking lot, we never heard from her again. She knew better. According to Jabari’s mother, she won’t even do her hair anymore. She cut off all ties with her once she got her ass beat.
I still had my guard up, though, when it came to Jabari’s mom. I wasn’t too trusting of her. I let her see Jamaria whenever she came to town, but best believe I was right there watching her. She still threw out little sly comments whenever she saw me, and I always threw mine out right back. We would probably never be the best of friends, but for the sake of Jabari, we tolerated each other. I think she knew that she couldn’t run me away, so she had no choice but to tolerate me.
My life was peaceful these days. I had both of my parents in my life, who were both trying to make up for lost time. I was creating history with my husband and our daughter, and any day now, our son would be here. Life was good.
Jashae King
“Baby, get the blanket out the back. I don’t want to mess up my dress,” I said to Miami, as I held on Little Miami, better known as Toddrick Giovonte King in my arms. It was only right that I gave my baby boy his big brother’s first name as his middle name.
Little Miami was beautiful. He had his daddy’s hazel eyes, his same caramel skin, and my jet-black curly hair, along with my dimples. I could cry at how beautiful he was. Six months ago, I birthed him, and he’s been glued to me ever since. Miami hated it. It was so funny to me because Miami begged for a son, and now that he had one, my son didn’t want anything to do with him and everything to do with me.
Little Miami was my cuddling partner, the little guy who looked at me like I could do no wrong, and the little person who was trying to prove to his daddy every day that he loved me more than Miami did. He was such a calm, sweet baby. He only cried when he was hungry or wet. I took him everywhere with me and never had to worry about him crying up a storm while we were out in public.
“I got it, baby. What you going to get lil’ man? You want to take my position as a man, so what you going to carry?” Miami asked, getting all in our son’s face.
Little Miami cracked up as he tried to jump his little body up and down in my arms as I held onto him.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You can’t carry nothing. You lucky you cute,” Miami called out right before he kissed our son.
I held onto the baby in one arm while I held the flowers in the other. It was Vonte’s birthday, and like the past two birthdays, I made it my duty to come and see him. This time, bringing his little brother with me. As good as things were going in my life, my heart would always be heavy when I was forced to come down here and see my baby.
The weather was cloudy today, pretty much fitting my mood. We made it to my baby’s tombstone, and I bent down with my son in my arms and placed his flowers in the flowerpot. Miami had laid the blanket out for me, and I took a seat on it with little Miami on my lap.
“Say hi to your big brother,” I told my son as I picked his little hand up and waved.
He was getting sleepy, so all he did was lay his head on my chest. I massaged his curls, and I smiled, looking down at my other baby, Vonte.
“Mommy misses you, Vonte. I picture every day how it would have been if the two of you had met. I could see him running behind you, wanting to be just like you. He would have loved you, and you would have loved him just as much,” I said with my voice cracking.
&nbs
p; The tears fell like I knew they would, but that was fine. It was normal. What mother wouldn’t cry, coming out here and having to talk with her son under these circumstances? I stopped talking because the more I said, the more emotional I became. Like always, Miami never rushed me. He never asked me if I was ready to go or anything. He was my support while we were out there. His hands on my back, rubbing it and letting me have my moment with my baby.
Our son had fallen asleep, and that still wasn’t enough for me to get up and leave. Prior to today, life had been filled with happiness. I can’t even remember the last time I cried. Life was good, and our marriage was good. I was a full-time mother to Maya and little Miami. When Taniya came over, I was a full-time stepmother to her as well.
Trip’s mother tried to reach out months ago to apologize and take Maya back, but I had her. I made a promise to myself and Maya that I had her, and I was keeping good on that promise. She would spend time with Trip’s mother on the weekends, and I was aware of her spending time with her father last weekend too. I was fine with those things, as long as her grandmother was the one who was taking her to see him because I wasn’t. That chapter was closed. Trip and I were a thing of the past.
It had been over a year since he and I had any conversation with each other, and I was fine with that. Maya was still in therapy after having to witness her mother’s murder, but she was better now, way better. They ended up giving Krystal’s cousin a life sentence behind that murder. The whole situation was sad, even down to the cousin having to go to prison and leave behind her two children. We were doing everything in our power to get Maya’s mind off what happened that day, and so far, it had been working. Therapy was working, she’s doing well in school, and the speech therapy that she’d been taking had been paying off as well because her communication skills were improving. Right now, she was at the grocery store with my grandma, and as soon as we left here, I was going to pick her up.
“We can go now, baby. We don’t have to sit out here any longer. He knows I love him. He’s fine. I know he is,” I said to Miami and handed him the baby, so I could stand up.
I wiped the rest of the tears, and I was fine. I knew that my son was fine. When Miami stood, he placed our son over his shoulder and pulled me into him, kissing me on my forehead. We stayed hugged up with each other as a little family, me being the one who wasn’t ready to let go. Vonte was holding onto me too, letting me know that not only did Miami have me for life, but he had me too.
The end