Authors: Shareef Jaudon
My Little Angel
The past few weeks I’ve spent with my grand baby have been the most full filling weeks in my life. She’s such an angel. It’s like I’m getting to be a mother all over again. I feel such a magnetic attachment to Khari. I could tell it’s because she’s my own flesh and blood and the daughter of my only son.
She’s the cutest little thing. She looks just like her daddy. When I watch her sleep at night she sometimes smiles like her father while she’s dreaming the innocent dreams of a baby girl. She holds my finger in her tiny palm and tries her best to put it in her mouth. One thing I can say about my little Khari; is that girl can eat! She can polish off an eight ounce bottle in five minutes flat and she will let you know if you’re moving to slow getting her food ready.
Music soothes her soul and calms down her fussy spells. She’s especially fond of Marvin Gaye, I’ll even throw a little Whitney Houston in the mix when I’m feeling sentimental, she seems to really enjoy her gorgeous voice. I know my one on one days with her are coming to an end, especially since Angelique is out of jail so I’m savoring these last moments with my grand baby and looking forward to being in her life for a lifetime.
Guess Who
Mr. Seals relaxed in his king sized bed laying on Egyptian cotton sheets watching Judge Mathis on television. The work day had been a grueling one with difficult case after another landing on his desk like airplanes on a runway. The ultra soft mattress felt like heaven on his aching shoulders and back. All he wanted to do was finish his scotch and soda and fall into a coma like sleep. He took the last sip of his night cap placing the empty glass on the night stand when he heard a knock at the door.
His eyes darted to the digital clock next to the glass and he let out an agitated huff as he angrily got out of the bed to see who dared disturb him at this hour. Seals crossed the living room and put his eyeball in front of the peep hole, but didn’t see anyone there. He blinked scanning the hallway once again from his limited vantage point behind the door. Just at the bottom of the peep hole view he noticed an array of color spring up. Every hue you could think of poked out from a massive vase overflowing with an assortment of exotic flowers.
He thought it was kind of odd that flowers would be delivered after eight then he reasoned that the delivery man must be working late to make up for lost time and just dropped them off then left. He was cautious however because the last time he walked out his apartment he was busted in the face with the end of shotgun and woke up in his shower. Again he looked side to side scanning the hallway for anything suspicious. Once the search was complete and all was safe he opened the door stooping down to retrieve the vibrant surprise bouquet. He wondered who sent the flowers. Was it the woman who worked the register at the coffee house? She was always flirting with him. Or maybe it was someone from his office. The new intern was always game for a little office hanky panky. She even ‘accidently’ emailed him naked pictures of herself claiming they were meant for her boyfriend. Maybe it was her that sent the flowers.
The D.A. noticed a card attached, he opened the mini envelope and read the words scribbled on the folded up piece of paper inside.
“
I’ll make sure these get put on your grave
.”
Before he could react to the threatening words, a bullet knifed its way into the side of his head exploding out the other end. His blood and final thoughts littered the beige walls and spotless brown carpet of the empty hallway. His tired body was now resting in peace next to the most beautiful arrangement of flowers and the mysterious deadly note.
She Is Her
Pamela sat next to me talking on the phone with her anonymous connection at the LAPD. I listened intently as she read the license plate number off the folded up piece of paper to the unknown person. The hour was late but the holice department never closes at least when it came to her anyway.
“It will be just a couple of minutes.” She held one finger up.
I sat patiently waiting then I decided to have a late night smoke on her back patio to pass the time. As I walked out into the cool night air my thoughts shifted to my daughter. I wondered if she was sleeping right now, or up wondering where the hell her parents were at. It had only been about two weeks since I dropped her off with my other mom, but it seemed like two months. I’d be glad when all this was over so she could return home; I really missed her. Then my heart sunk a little in my chest as I thought about the recent static between me and Angelique and wondered if the dream of raising our child together was just that…a dream. I mean, could an ex drug enforcer, slash heist man, slash former all around ladies man really live happily ever after with the ex girlfriend of a kingpin that had major trust issues? As I exhaled the tasty smoke I really had no definitive answer to give myself. I guess it would just all have to play out. I was halfway finished with my cigarette when my mom slid her short body through the sliding glass door to join me. I gave her an expecting look as I waited for the news.
“What did he say?” I flicked ashes out into the grass.
She paused briefly. “Ummm the license plate numbers belong to Dallas. She recently purchased the car and it’s registered to her. She’s Raine Tyce.”
I started to call the holice department back and report my tongue missing because I was at a loss for words. I processed the information Pamela just laid on me slowly in my head. As I mentally put the pieces together it all started to make perfect sense. The late night visit, the fake concern for Angelique, the sudden push for my attention; it was all part of her master plan.
“You’re sure it’s her?”
“Yes it’s her, Dallas Nicole Mitchell. What are you going to do?” Pamela looked up at me.
I rubbed the light facial hair on my cheeks as I weighed the heavy question she just asked me.
“What would you do?” I asked back.
Deep Shit
I don’t know why shit always seemed to jump off at night in my world. Lucky for me I’d always been a night owl so it really didn’t make a difference. The midnight drama was routine in my camp. I’d just left Pamela’s quiet home and walked into Sabrina’s lively beach house. Her and Angelique sat at the kitchen table sipping wine and talking while somebody’s voice flowed softly from the stereo providing the mood music.
My sister rolled her head in my direction. “Hey bro, you jus’ in time. Sit down and have a glass of wine with us.”
“Ya’ll drunk?” I sat down across from Angelique.
“I’m ‘bout seven sips from being extra tipsy
but
I still know how to handle my shit. But enough about me and my intoxication level. I wanna talk about you two.”
I shot her a curious look. “Us?”
“Did I stutter negro? Angelique filled me in on what happened with ya’ll. Before you get all amped up thinkin’ she jus’ gave her selfish version of things let me clarify and say she was very unbiased and did her best to explain both sides of the situation.”
Angelique refilled her glass and poured me my first giving me a seriously sincere expression in the process. The short time I’d been there shehadn’t said a word; Sabrina was doing all the talking for the wine tasting
duo.
“She gave both sides huh?” I looked at Angelique as I took a sip of wine.
“Yes. And I can clearly see how shit got twisted up like a French braid.”
Sabrina clasped her hands together intertwining her fingers.
She continued, “I aint nobody’s mama, but I am somebody’s auntie and before this shit goes any further you two owe it to Khari and yourselves to see if things can be ironed out. Every relationship has its ups and downs, you jus’ gotta ride the waves baby, but if the ride is makin’ you sick to your stomach and you jus’ wanna throw up every time you look at each other-then hell ya’ll should jus’ end it. Do you jus’ feel like throwing up when you look at Angelique?”
My sister pointed her finger to the right in my direction.
“No I don’t.” I answered honestly.
“Good! What about you Angelique? When you see Tyce does he make you sick to your stomach?”
“Not at all.” Angelique said quietly.
“See that’s a good thing so you guys have somethin’ to build on. I know there’s more to it than that but at least you still love each other.”
I jumped in, “Of course I still love Angelique, but love and trust are two different things. I may have done some questionable things while she was away but if you ask me if my dick was in another woman the answer would be no. I never lie about the pussy I get or the pussy I don’t get. I’m a man that will take whatever consequence come from my actions…period. I believe what I see and not what I hear and I give the people I love the benefit of the doubt until they prove to me that they don’t deserve it. I never fucked Dallas. Now if I wasn’t with you would I have fucked her? Hell yeah. But I’m with you and that’s why I didn’t. So if you still don’t believe me then that’s on you. I’ll do me and you can do your thing. Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather it be the three of us ballin’ outta control behind a white picket fence but I don’t have to be with you to be a father to Khari especially if you’re gonna be lookin’ at me sideways every time I leave the house cuz you don’t trust me.”
Angelique reached across the glass table top and grabbed my hands. Her eyes locked on mine as she spoke directly from her heart.
“Tyce baby, I trust you. I’ve been through a lot recently and my mind was all scrambled. I forgot who truly had my back and I apologize if I made you feel unappreciated or took your love for granted. I should of never listened to Dallas and dismissed that trifling bitch from the gate. All I wanna do is get back to us. I pride myself on being a real ass woman, which also means recognizing a real ass man when I see one. You’re the realest man I’ve ever known and I don’t wanna walk away from you and I don’t want you to walk away from me. It’s cold out her without you.”
Her beautiful eyes began to mist over. Her breath was shaky as she waited for my response to her sincere statement of love.
I offered her my sexy grin. “Girl we’re the gangsta version of Mr. and Mrs. Huxtable and I don’t want it to end either…we jus’ gettin’ started.”
All three of us laughed at my comment with Sabrina slapping the glass with her palm.