Page 34 of Hooked on Loving Him

Looking up with moisture, which causes my vision to be blurry, I see Papa Ren nod to Evangelist Tolliver, who makes her way to me. A tinge of relief eases from my body at Papa Ren not being the person who will pray for me. He and God have been ganging up on me enough, and I need a little reprieve. A small smile forms as Evangelist Tolliver takes my hands into hers and starts speaking.

“I saw you coming down the aisle, and the heaviness of your spirit hit me before you fully reached this altar. Would you like to share your prayer request with me, or do you want me to pray without your direction?” Evangelist Tolliver asks.

“W-without direction,” I say over the lump in my throat as she nods and bows her head, causing me to follow her lead.

“Father, in the name of Jesus, I come to You on behalf of Your daughter, Ashari. Right now, give her peace in her mind. Let her know that their midnight won’t consume her or him,” Evangelist Tolliver says, causing me to open my eyes slightly as my breathing accelerates.

How in the?—

“God, let Ashari know that You’re greater than this present storm. Let her know that You have already worked it out for the good. Let her know that she’s able to handle the storm no matter how deep the valley… no matter how great the pain. Whew, thank You, Father. Let her know that her purpose is to remain steadfast and unmovable because this midnight experience doesn’t win. Give her strength to endure it so that she can love him through it.” Evangelist Tolliver continues praying while holding my hands as hers tremble, causing my eyes to continue leaking with rapid water. “We trust You. We believe You. Yes, God.”

When Evangelist Tolliver begins speaking in an unknown tongue, my mind wanders because God has set me up again.

See, God… You don’t play fair. I thought for sure not having Papa Ren pray was my out. Yet, You sent Evangelist Tolliver to drop Your gems concerning me.

Me:

What’s good, Shari

After sendinga quick text to Ashari, I walk out my front door and head to Kyce’s house for dinner. My mind has been on Ashari all day because although we’ve talked since I popped up at her crib, something has been off with her. Not to mention my raw emotions over my reaction to making love to Ashari after never having the experience before. The whole time I was deep-stroking Ashari, it felt like I was having an out-of-body event that my mind couldn’t reconcile. Love burst in every stroke, and my feelings for Ashari deepened, hitting me like a tornado. I damn near had to bite a hole in my jaw to keep myself fromcrying like a simp. I had no clue it would be like that, and it certainly gave me the reason to never hit Ashari from the back. As a matter of fact, that will never be a position shared between us.

“Well, look who’s gracing the family with his presence on this beautiful Sunday afternoon,” I hear as my feet hit Kyce’s driveway.

“Aw, did you buy the wrong size Fruit of the Looms again, little brother? I told you that 4T fits you best, so stop trying to fit into the extra small ones.” Without slowing my strides toward the front door, I taunt Jawaan’s crybaby ass.

“Wow. I should have known you would turn on me as soon as I saw the non-soprano assaulting mine and the twins’ ears. Damn. What’s the family coming to?” Jawaan says from beside me, causing me to peer over at him, unsure how he reached me so fast.

“The fact that I know how often your car isn’t hiding in your garage, I suggest you exit this line of questioning.” Hiking my brow, I smirk at Jawaan’s eyes ballooning before returning to their normal size.

“You talk too much, bro.”

With Jawaan being the baby out of the three of us, he’s also the most needy and clingy, so I’m not surprised by his reaction to Kyce settling down. I’m also expecting him to show his ass as things between Ashari and me progress. Jawaan takes a little while to warm up to the idea of other people infiltrating our dynamics. After Kyce and Masani got close, Jawaan damn near cried on my couch, thinking that Kyce would somehow change up on him. I had to talk him off the ledge, but I let him know that Kyce would still be his big brother and was only adding to our family. It's something I haven’t told Kyce, but I understand how Jawaan thinks.

“How about you and I go hang out after dinner for some brother time?”

Jawaan’s face becomes lighter and brighter as a cheesy grin upturns his lips, and his head bobs as he extends his hand toward me.

“Fuck yeah. I need to do something to keep you from following in this nigga’s footsteps,” he says, nodding toward Kyce’s front door as I ring the doorbell.

Peaches barks gruffly, causing me to laugh because while she has an aggressive bark, she’s anything but a threat. All Peaches is capable of doing is licking a robber to death, especially if they offer her spoiled ass a steak or beef jerky.

“Peaches… home,” Masani says before the door opens and she comes into view with one of the babies attached to her in a carrier. “Happy Sunday, little brothers.”

“You mean little brother because only this nigga is the youngest out of the three of us, sis,” I say, smiling, entering the house and leaning to kiss her cheek before removing the baby from the carrier. “Hey, uncle’s baby,” I say upon seeing baby girl’s eyes open, despite her not making a sound.

“Why did you get her knowing I was about to do that? I’m not sure why sis got her big tail in that carry thang anyway. She is a grown woman and is being stuffed in that contraption like a sardine,” Jawaan says from behind me as we continue into the house.

“See, this is why you don’t get to babysit that often because you be doing the most,” Masani says.

“Nah, that’s because you and big bro are haters. It’s cool because when I have my kids, I’m dropping them on y’all doorstep without invitation,” Jawaan adds.

“Why are y’all making all this noise on the Sabbath?” Kyce asks when we enter the living room as Mycah sleeps on his chest.

“This nigga. I’m guessing sis had you in church this morning and now you want to condemn us. I could have sworn Mama Lo said there is no condemnation w?—”

“Don’t be putting words in my mouth, Jawaan Young,” Mama Lo walks into the room saying as a wide smile covers her lips.

Masani’s mother, Mama Lo, makes Kyce, Jawaan, and me feel like we’re the sons she didn’t have. After losing my mom, it feels great to have Mama Lo and Ms. Aretha to fill in the gap sometimes. Mama Lo’s loving nature makes it hard to reject the love she selflessly provides me and my brothers. Ms. Aretha is the mother figure who will cuss us out, pray for us, and teach us some things we might be lacking individually. She’s given me a love for reading and has taught me how to cook. I love both women more than I’m able to admit or tell them.

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