Page 32 of Hood Legacy

“Don’t get your head knocked off in front of my daughter-in-law.” He stepped back and let us in. “Talking shit like I’m a nigga in the street.”

“Here you go.” Aceyn waved off his daddy and led me into the house. “Anyway, Pop, this is my lady, Point Guard; baby, this is my Pop, Donald Bowlin.”

“That woman’s name is not Point Guard,” Donald said, shaking his head. “And you definitely won’t be calling me Donald; family calls me Bowlin. If my son is bringing you by, that means you’re family, so that’s what you’ll call me.”

“And my name is Legacy,” I laughed as I put my hand out for him to shake. Bowlin looked at my hand with a confused look before pushing it out of his way and pulling me into a hug.

“We family, girl, we hug around here,” he said as he let me go. He hugged his son quickly, kissed his head, then pushed him away. “Shit talking ass nigga.”

“I love you, too, pop,” Aceyn laughed as he dropped onto the couch. He pulled me by my belt loop down next to him and threw his arm over my shoulder. “What did you cook?”

“It’s some neckbones and greens in there,” Bowlin answered as he sat across from us. “Go on in there and make y’all a plate.” He turned to me and lifted his brow. “You’re hungry, right?”

“Yes, sir,” I answered with a nod. “Your son hasn’t fed me all day.”

“Nigga, you know better than that!” Bowlin fussed at Aceyn, who kissed his teeth in annoyance. “How the hell you ain’t fed your woman all day?”

“Pop, you know she is lying, right?” Aceyn said as he got up from the couch. He playfully popped my leg as he passed me and shook his head. “Her big-headed ass ain’t ate since breakfast because she has been in the gym all day practicing. I had to drag her out of there, and we were about to head home when you called. I was about to feed her.”

“Go make her a plate, Hood,” Bowlin said, waving his son off. Once he was in the kitchen, Bowlin turned his attention back to me and smiled. “Now, tell me about yourself, Legacy. You play for the Queens. You’re the Point Guard?”

“Yes, sir,” I said, nodding.

“Y’all about to make some noise on the court, I already know that,” he said as he sat back and crossed his ankles. “I’ve seen you play before. You’re good as hell.”

“Thank you,” I blushed. “That means a lot.”

“Shit, it’s the truth,” he replied, waving me off. “I don’t believe in lying to people, and if I thought you were trash, then I would say so.” He shook his head. “Hood’s ass don’t waste time on folks that ain’t worth a damn. I taught my son at an early age that shit ain’t promised, so you gotta take advantage of every opportunity.”

“I agree,” I said, nodding.

“Alright, what you in here preaching about?” Aceyn said, returning to the living room with two plates in his hands. He set them on the table and then pulled them close to us. My mouth watered at the sight of neckbones, greens, and cornbread. “This nigga can cook, so be prepared to be full and sleepy by the time we leave here.”

“Okay,” I replied with a laugh. I said a quick prayer and then dug into my food. “Oh, this is good.”

“I told you,” Aceyn said with a laugh as he ate. He leaned over and put his mouth to my ear so his daddy wouldn’t hear him. “You ain't gonna be worth shit when we get home, and I had plans for you.”

“I probably won’t,” I covered my mouth and replied. “And I’m not even sorry about it.”

“Damn, it's like that?” he reared back and shook his head. “Let me get this plate back then.”

“Aceyn!” I laughed when he tried to pick up my plate.

“Put that shit down, lil nigga,” his daddy laughed. “If you fed her like you were supposed to, you wouldn’t be over there pouting cuz that shit gonna put her to sleep tonight, and you probably not getting no pussy.”

“Forget you, Pop,” he laughed and put my plate back. He kissed my cheek and then went back to eating. “And trust me, I’ma have her screaming my shit tonight no matter what.”

“Talk your shit, son!” Bowlin laughed. I shook my head, not caring about their conversation, as I continued to eat. “Daughter-in-law, eat up so you’ll have your strength.”

“You talk to your mama?”Pop asked me as I washed our plates, and I nodded. “You cool with it?”

“I got a choice?” I cut my eyes to him and lifted my brow. “Cuz it didn’t sound like I did when you dropped the information in my lap.”

“Nah, not really,” he answered with a laugh as he leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “She needs this shit.”

“I know,” I agreed. “She needs to get away, chill out, and enjoy her time while she has the energy.” I rinsed the soap off the plates and put them in the dishwasher. Pop was an old-school nigga and didn’t believe in using a dishwasher, so it was only used to dry his dishes. “She looked good when I saw her yesterday.”

“She was having a good day,” he chuckled. “We’d just finished taking a bath together. I soaped-“

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