Page 16 of Mahogany 1

I cocked my head to the side and cracked up laughing. “Yeaaaah, you trippin.”

“I ain’t trippin. Yo ass been like this for years. Oh, special Mahogany can’t do no wrong. She just so perfect,” She mocked.

Damn near.

When it came to this situation she was, at least. Mahogany was about protecting her peace and loving those that loved her. My ma had never extended the type of love Mahogany showed her, to her. For a minute, she competed for my ma’s love. Walked in the house with a bright smile, spoke, tried to build the same relationship with her as I had with her people, but nothing worked. My ma was my ma and kept that false narrative about NeNe in the front of her mind.

“It ain’t even like that.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I locked eyes with her. “I’m a real nigga. Always have been. So regardless of what it is… between her and me, me and you… I’m going to keep it one hundred. Every single time.”

She frowned up at me, looked away and went back to flipping them nasty ass porkchops. “Talk to her. Tell her I want to be in on the planning a lil’ bit, Duke.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” I told her, knowing good and damn well Mahogany wouldn’t give a fuck about what she wanted to do. NeNe wanted an apology and an explanation we both knew she’d never get.

“I—”

My phone rang, cutting her off, and I fished it from my pocket. Another private call. Before ignoring it, I stared at it a minute with dipped brows, wondering who the fuck it could have been. Shit had been going on for the past couple of days. Because I was who I was, and I had the history I had, I thought maybe itcould’ve been one of the women from my past. But for what? I hadn’t cheated in two years.

“Still sneakin’ around huh? Can’t be too crazy about her,” my ma said, after I ignored it and put the phone back in my pocket with a sigh.

“What, ma? I’m not sneaking around,” I interrupted.

She knew.

Of course she knew. If it weren’t for her being my mother, she wouldn’t. I couldn’t hide shit from her, remember? We had a thick ass bond. What I did was kept between us. My ma might’ve been a little messy but one thing she didn’t do was run her mouth to people about my business. Mahogany’s pregnancy was one thing, me having an affair was completely different. She only knew about the last time. She found out the same way she found out about the baby—I was stressed, and she got to digging. Did I want to tell her? Hell naw I didn’t. She figured it out herself, and I told her by not denying it.

It was right after Mahogany caught me texting ol’ girl. Shit was getting too serious between us, and my wife wasn’t showing much of an ‘I give a fuck’. I was sick. Worried about losing the woman I loved over someone I quickly deemed insignificant because of it.

“Mmhm, sure you ain’t,” She doubted, taking one of the porkchops out of the grease.

I stood there a minute, staring at her with a slight frown. I hated that shit. Doubt. I dealt with that enough back at the crib. No way in fuck was I about to stand in my ma’s kitchen, dealing with it from her too. Back in the day, when I was on dumb shit, that wouldn’t have phased me. I would have brushed it off and left it at that. However, doubt felt different when you were telling the truth. What I hated most about being upset when I was called a liar was people automatically assuming they were right because I’d taken an offense. My word not being trusted, stunga little bit. But shit whose fault was that? I was the one with the fucked-up history; of course people doubted me.

“Aight, I’m about to head on out,” I said with opened arms, ready to embrace her.

“Now you about to leave, ‘cause I called you on your bullshit. I thought you were at least staying for dinner, boy,” she complained, shaking her head, her short bob moving with it.

“I would’ve if you would’ve cooked something other than porkchops,” I said, adding a forced laugh. “And you didn’t call me on no bullshit—I’m telling the truth. It don’t matter if you believe me or not.”

It did matter.

It mattered a lot. However, I refused to tell her that. It would have been nice to have my faithfulness recognized by someone. If my wife couldn’t appreciate it, I felt like damn, moms could at least. It wasn’t that I wanted a gold star or anything like that, just a little recognition for trying. Women didn’t understand how hard it was for a nigga to be faithful. I got pussy thrown at me every day by coworkers and women out in public, but I dodged it every time. Back then, I would have pounced on every opportunity for new pussy, if she was fine enough. It took a lot of willpower to commit to one woman for the rest of my life.

“It shouldn’t matter, anyway,” she pointed out. “If you ain’t cheatin’ on the girl, you ain’t cheatin’ on the girl. What I think ain’t important. How you feel about what you may or may not be doing is the only thing you should be concerned about.”

I nodded and embraced her.

“That’s why I don’t care, ma. I know what’s what. Your opinion is your opinion. I would appreciate it if you didn’t doubt me though. That’s all I’m sayin’.”

“Mmhmm, I hear you Ducati. The only thing I give a damn about is seeing my grandbabies! Get ’em over here before the party boy. I’m not playing.”

I kissed her on the forehead, told her I loved her, and left.

About twenty minutes later,I was walking into the crib. After coming out of my jacket and shoes, I followed the smell of bell peppers and the sound of K. Camp. I could always tell what type of mood Mahogany was in by the vibe of the house when I came home. Today, she was in a good one. I couldn’t remember the last time I came home to the sound of music playing while she cooked.

I walked into the kitchen and immediately smiled.Theywere cooking. Mahogany and the girls. She kept them in the kitchen. By the smell of things and the empty Prego jars, I could tell it was spaghetti.

Creeping up behind Mahogany, I wrapped my arms around her waist and buried my face into the side of her neck, scaring the hell out of her. She dropped the spoon she was stirring with and laughed.

“Daddy!” Sparkle yelled, standing on top of a barstool at the stove, next to Mahogany. I couldn’t get my arms from around Mahogany fast enough before she was trying to jump on me.

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