“Don’t get none of these niggas hurt, D. Me and my boy Liam don’t mind rolling up on none of these fools. Be smart, baby girl.”
“Bye, fool.” I laughed.
* * *
The sweet smell of my homemade barbecue sauce filled my house as I pulled the ribs out of the oven. I left work after the lunch crowd started to thin out so I could start the meal I wanted to have tonight. I baked the ribs low and slow so they were falling off the bone.
If Liam decided to show up tonight, I wanted to have his favorite meal ready for him. All day long, I was tempted to call or text him, but I never gave in. Waiting for his shift to start was torturous. Syre called to let me know he was on the way, so there was that. I went about my business of cutting the ribs into portions before fixing Syre’s plate.
I used one of the carry out plates I had left over. I never knew if he would stay when he came to visit, so I was prepared for him to dine and dash or take his plate to go. A knock on the door caused me to put the plate on the counter. Syre usually knocked before letting himself in, but just in case, I headed to the door. Just as I expected, the door flung open before I made it to the living room.
“You got it smelling good as hell in here, D,” Syre declared as he walked in.
“You act like you forgot how I get down.”
“Nah, I can’t forget that. Ma made sure you got all the skills to keep your husband happy and well fed.”
“How am I ever going to get a husband with you and your goons in the way?” I asked.
“If a nigga can’t get around me, he don’t deserve you,” he replied as if that made all the sense in the world.
“You gotta stand down, Syre.”
“Look, I’m sorry for being so hard on you lately. This shit with Ma and Bishop got me stressed the fuck out. Seems like everybody is losing their damn minds. I brought you something, though,” he said, shoving a big cardboard box toward me.
“What is it?” I asked, unable to disguise my excitement.
“Here before I change my mind,” he said with a smirk.
Accepting the box, I placed it on the coffee table and walked over to grab a pair of scissors from my little cup of pens and trinkets.
“This my plate?” he called from the kitchen.
“Yeah.”
“What you got to drink in here?” he quizzed.
“Look in the fridge. I made some tea.”
“Got you.”
With Syre busy, I cut into the tape and opened the box. I shook my head seeing one of my favorite words. I didn’t hesitate to open the box and see exactly what was inside. The soft pink shade made me squeal.
“You got me another Chanel bag?” I asked as if my eyes were playing tricks on me.
“Did I do good? A bitch sent me a picture asking me to get that for her. Wish I would spend over $5,000 on a bag for a thot.”
“I love it, but you could have saved the backstory,” I said, walking into the kitchen where he stood at the island eating.
“I just wanted to make sure you liked it. I’m trying to make it up to you, D, for making sure Liam takes his job too seriously and for stomping your boy toy’s head in the ground that night. Let a nigga say he’s sorry with Chanel.” He chuckled.
“Thank you, Syre.” I smiled, throwing my arms around his waist.
“You’re welcome, baby girl. Let Liam do his job, and he won’t have to snatch you out of places. Stall him out, D,” he advised, kissing the top of my head.
“I’ll try.” I rolled my eyes playfully and continued to smile up at the man who thought he was my father.
“These ribs are good as shit. Fix my guy a plate tonight. I see he’s working hard to keep you in check around here.”