Page 36 of Rather: The Therapist

“It’s your aunt,” I explained to Princeton. “I need to take this.”

As the words left my mouth and I began to stand on my feet, his eyes finally grew tired. A yawn widened his mouth and he pulled Woody even closer to his body. His day was coming to an end and mine was about to begin.

“Kleigh,” I answered as I exited my son’s room, sure to close the door behind me.

Out in the hall, I waited for the rattling in the background to cease so I could hear my sister’s voice. Though she wasn’t on the line and there was so much ruckus, I knew she was home. Her ceiling tiles afforded me with comfort.

“One second, Priest. Sorry. I thought no one would answer.”

“When have I not picked up your call?”

“Okay, the others!” She admitted, finally picking up the phone and letting me see that gorgeous face of hers.

Kleigh was next to the youngest, but we considered her the baby of the bunch. Kofi, we hated to even claim that nigga and still wondered why my stepmother and father decided to have the nigga.

Not only was he a liability to the family, the motherfucker was downright ignorant. Sometimes, I questioned if we were truly raised and loved by the same people.

Strangely, he was Kleigh’s pride and joy. He was only two years younger than her, so she felt like she’d raised him, in a sense. And, that was the possible explanation to the mystery we were all trying to solve.

Mom and Dad were exhausted by the time he came along. They’d poured their energy into raising three children before him. Though I wasn’t Ashland’s biologically, I was hers in every other sense of the word. She and my father left Kofi for us to raise it seemed. That hadn’t turned out well. Not only was that nigga defiant, he was a fucking hellraiser and he kept us all on our toes.

“Don’t ever insult me in that manner, dear.”

“You’re right.” She recanted. “I apologize.”

“Is something the matter?”

Kleigh was notorious for her dramatics, but I loved her nonetheless. She was the only girl of four siblings. Her life was the epitome of theatrical according to us. We were men.

She was simply a woman evolving with each passing day. As the oldest of the herd, it was a blessing to watch her grow and become the person I’d seen in my dreams a million times or more.

She was the spitting image of our mother. The two of them, including my biological mother, were the ones to blame for my obsession with a woman’s aura. Her role in a man’s world. Her femininity. Her softness. Her gentleness. Her ability to calm raging storms or become the storm herself.

The way women’s power lies dormant would forever be incredible to me. They had the power to rule nations, yet most chose to dilute their competency and reign over households, children, and immediate circles.

They were structured so beautifully. And, built with so much intention. Their talents were endless. Their instincts were mindblowing. Their presence was undeniable.

“No. No, not at all. I just found myself missing the men in my life and wanted to steal some of your time if I could.”

Spoiled. Having three brothers and a father who catered to your every need had its privileges and Kleigh took advantage of those often.

She flaunted her independence and did so very well, yet, there were moments she remembered it wasn’t necessary. Moments like these, when she was ready to relinquish her power and allow us to guide her.

Rose. I was reminded of the woman who’d be waiting at my door tonight, ready and willing to fulfill every command supplied. My throat thickened at the thought of her. My memory and senses joined one another in their efforts.

I could taste her on my tongue. Feel her grooves extracting me of my manhood. I conformed as her thoughtlessness increased my capacity.

“That’s never a question. What do you have in mind?”

“I was thinking lunch with us all in attendance, but–”

“No Kofi.”

“My God, leave him alone, Priest. He’s getting better.”

“In fact, just you and I. Lunch at Pier. One-thirty.”

“Fine. I’ll be there at one-thirty.”

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