Page 117 of Heavy Is The Crown

Sunday at The Water, a Trinity Bay tradition. The marina would be packed with boats lined up, cars on display, food, music, the whole city showing up to flex. It was a place where old money and street money mingled, where the hustlers pulled up in foreigns, the business moguls docked their yachts, and the people just enjoyed the vibes.

Nub’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Man, everybody been asking about you. Grandmama, aunties, the OGs; hell, even Granddaddy James been asking where the hell you been at.”

Kenyatta let out a short breath, shaking his head. “You know how that shit go.”

“Yeah, I know,” Nub’s voice lowered slightly. “I also know your ass been ducking.”

Kenyatta didn’t say anything because Nub wasn’t lying. Ever since he got out, he’d been avoiding too much interaction with the people who used to rely on him. It wasn’t like he didn’t miss them.

When he was the old him, he was the one pulling up in the cleanest whip, in the freshest fit, with pockets deep enough to make sure everybody ate. Now he was just a man trying to figure his shit out. Being around people who still saw him as the old him was the last thing he needed.

“I ain’t ducking,” Kenyatta finally muttered, gripping the wheel. “I just…don’t know if I feel like all that.”

Nub sighed. “Man, listen. You ain’t gotta come out there stuntin’. Ain’t nobody expecting you to pull up in a Lambo throwing money in the air. Just come see your people, eat some food, chill. You got folks who love you, Yatta. You actin’ like you some kind of ghost.”

Kenyatta leaned his head back against the seat. He knew Nub was right. Maybe this was a chance to start letting people see who he was now instead of the version of him they used to know. An opportunity to let his mama see the difference.

Maybe…even let Krys see.

Kenyatta ran a hand down his face before finally muttering, “A’ight. I’ll come through.”

Nub chuckled. “Good. And bring whoever you been sneaking ‘round with too.”

Kenyatta sucked his teeth. “Man, shut the hell up.”

Nub laughed. “Nah, nah. I’m deadass. I know your ass been laid up with somebody, nigga. Don’t nobody disappear like you been without a reason.”

Kenyatta shook his head, ignoring the comment. “I’ll holla at you later, man.”

Nub snickered. “Uh-huh. Later, lovebird.”

Kenyatta ended the call with Nub, still smirking slightly, but the thought had already settled in his mind. This would be the first time he was inviting Krys somewhere on his own terms.

Not as a pretend date. Not as a boss taking her employee to lunch. This would be because he actually wanted her there. The thought should’ve made him anxious, but it didn’t.

He pulled up Krys’ name in his call log and hit dial. The phone rang twice before she picked up.

“What you want now, Yatta?” she teased, a slight tease in her tone.

Kenyatta grinned back, shaking his head. “So, I can’t call my girl just to hear her voice?”

Krys chuckled. “Try again.”

Kenyatta exhaled, leaning back in his seat. “A’ight, a’ight. Look, I actually wanted to invite you somewhere.”

There was a pause.

“A real invite?” Krys asked, amusement clear. “Not some pretend date?”

“Nah, it’s real,” Kenyatta confirmed. “Sunday at The Water. Big Juneteenth celebration down at the marina. My people gon’ be there.”

Another pause.

This wasn’t them playing roles or her putting on a show to flex in front of family. This was him letting her in, and a moment bigger than it probably should’ve been.

Finally, Krys spoke. “I’ll think about it.”

Kenyatta smirked. “That’s a yes.”

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