Page 53 of Hood Legacy

“I didn’t grow up in the most loving home,” I answered. “Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t abusive, but as I got older, I realized that it was neglectful. When I met Mercy and her big ass family and saw how they were with each other, I realized how much love I never experienced. But, you’ve met the DeCortes, so you know how hard they love.”

“I do,” she smiled. “So they loved and accepted you when your family didn’t?”

“They have,” I said, nodding as I leaned against the counter. “They may not be blood, but they love me like they are.”

“You have a family, Legacy,” she said, shaking her head. I lifted my brow, and she laughed. “The Bowlins are your family. My son loves you so much that I bet you haven’t realized when other people don’t show up anymore.”

“I’ve noticed,” I said, laughing. “But not in a bad way. Since I’ve been with Aceyn, I’ve realized how much I’ve missed out on, but I am glad about it.” I shrugged. “If I had to experience my first with anyone, I’m glad it's him.”

“Hearing you say that means I’ve done my job as his mama in preparing him to love his wife properly,” she said, nodding. “Now, I don’t normally let another woman into my kitchen, but I’m going to trust that you will do this for me.” She moved from her seat to the one I was sitting in and gave me her full attention.

I quickly searched her cabinets and fridge to see what she had and lucked up when I found everything I needed for homemade chicken and dumplings. I pulled everything out and set it on the counter.

“What did you have planned for this chicken?” I asked as I stood with the fridge door open.

“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head. “Do what you want with it.” Ms. Arlene pushed up from the table and smiled at me. “While you’re doing that, I’m going to lie down on the couch.” She approached me, kissed my cheek, then walked out of the kitchen.

I rewashed my hands and went to work. From the kitchen, I could see Ms. Arlene asleep on the couch. Seeing her in her element and not in Bali made me pause. The conversation with Aceyn about learning to do her hair echoed through my head. He’d said she was sick when he was little, but I’d never associated it with any diseases. But now I was wondering if what she dealt with then was a lifelong illness.

I sat at the table and finished my gumbo as the chicken and dumplings cooked. The front door opened, and I watched Aceyn and his daddy enter the house. Pop went straight to checking on Ms. Arlene while Aceyn came to me.

“Hey, Point Guard,” he greeted me, then kissed my forehead. “What are you doing?”

“Finishing my food,” I answered, then returned to eating. He took my spoon from me and took a bite for himself before handing it back to me. “Good, isn’t it?”

“Shit, I knew it would be. I grew up eating it,” he answered with a nod. His attention went back to his parents, and we watched as his father picked up Ms. Arlene and took her out of the living room. “He’ll bring her back in a few.”

“Okay,” I said as I got up and took my bowl to the sink. “And to answer your question, I was waiting for the chicken and dumplings to be done.”

“Mama made that?” he asked, and I shook my head. “Pop?” I shook my head again, and he reared back. “Who made it, Point Guard?”

“Me,” I laughed, and he shook his head. “What?”

“Can you cook?” he asked, and I rolled my eyes. “I’m only asking because you never mentioned wanting to be in the kitchen.”

“Aceyn, when do I have time to be in the kitchen?” I crossed my arms and waited for him to answer my question. “I spend all day at the arena, and lately, under you.”

“Ay, I don’t hear you complaining when you're under me, though,” he teased, and I rolled my eyes. He approached me and then pulled me to him. “I’m just saying I never knew you could cook, is all.”

“Mercy taught me,” I said as I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I’m not on her level, but I can get down.”

“And you made my mama some chicken and dumplings?” he questioned, and I nodded. He kissed me, then moved us so that we were near the stove and lifted the lid on the pot of food cooking. “It looks edible.”

“Taste it.” I reached over and handed him a spoon. He hesitantly took it and dipped it into the pot. I waited patiently as he took his time touching the spoon to his tongue, but when he did, I saw that he realized it was good.

“Okay, Point Guard, you know what you are doing,” he said, nodding. “This shit good.”

“Yo mama let her in her kitchen?” Pop asked, walking into the kitchen. He pushed his son off me, hugged me quickly, and kissed my forehead. “She doesn’t let nobody in this muthafucka, just know that.”

“Yeah,” Aceyn laughed. “Her soup is good, too.”

“You made my wife soup?” he asked, and I nodded. A shy smile crept across his face before he shook his head and turned to the cabinet to grab a bowl. “Son, you might as well propose so the shit is legit and yo mama can see her walk down the aisle.”

“I already know,” Aceyn said, nodding. They were talking like I wasn’t standing here; all I could do was listen. I tried not to let my panic show, and I was glad neither was watching me. To hear Aceyn agree with his daddy about marriage when we hadn’t even admitted aloud that we were in love was crazy.

“Hood, yo woman over there panicking,” Pop laughed as he ate a spoonful of his soup and smiled. “You better catch her ass before she jets outta here.”

“Man, she ain’t running,” Aceyn laughed as he pulled me to lean against him. He put his mouth to my ear and laughed softly. “Stop trippin’, Point Guard; we're just talking for right now.”

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