Page 7 of F*ckin' With Me
Rashad stood in front of his locker. “Man, why I have to go over there when you’re the one that got in trouble? That’s some bullshit.”
“My pops knows that my bullshit is your bullshit.” I laughed when his dark face seemed to brighten. This nigga was black as the night, so to see his skin brighten said a lot. “Aye, he said he was cooking. If he wants you to come, then I know it’s on the grill.”
That softened that greedy nigga’s resolve. “That’s true shit. I hope he made those garlic lobster tails.”
I turned my nose up. “If he told you to come over, you know he did. Man, hurry up so we can go.”
"While you out there getting head, you need to be getting ready for this gelato shop grand opening. It’s creeping up on us. Is everything in place?” he asked.
We were eating on the back deck of my father’s house. I had the house built for him a few years ago. It took a lot ofconvincing because he didn’t want to let go of the house that he and my mom owned. They purchased the house when my mom was pregnant with Rissa. When I told him that we could keep the property and use it as a short-term rental property, he said absolutely not. The thought of strangers living in his house was too much. It wasn’t until my sister said she wanted to live there that he allowed me to start building a house.
My sister made renovations to the house with my father’s permission. He loved what she did with it, especially the mural wall of our mom. Rissa craved to know everything about her. Our mother was a seamstress and a cosmetologist, so when Rissa told our father and me that she wanted to be a stylist, we weren’t surprised.
“Yes, Pops, everything is ready to go. The event is like two months away. I think we have a little time before we determine that it’s creeping up on us.” I put a forkful of macaroni in my mouth.
One of the first things my father made me do was hire a financial planner and accountant. It was one of the best decisions I ever made. Over the years, I picked up endorsements from sneakers and sports drink brands. Those were cool, but when I got the deal from a vehicle brand, I felt like I made it. Not only did a nigga drive a Hellcat, but he was the face of them too.
I also owned several fast-food franchises that would always make me money. I loved baseball, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to play it forever. I wanted to set myself up for my future. Whenever I met my wife, I wanted us to have no worries at all.
“Day, those two months are going to come and go. Your event planner deserves a raise,” my father said.
“Oh, she’s getting a raise alright,” Rashad mumbled.
My eyes bucked, and I choked a little on the rib meat I had in my mouth. When my father didn’t say anything, I assumed he didn’t hear it. I didn’t feel like hearing his mouth about that.I fucked the event planner before she was my event planner. I didn’t want to discriminate and not hire her because my dick had seen her mouth and pussy. That would have been wrong.
We ate and talked about other shit. Rissa was in Charlotte, styling one of her clients who played for the Carolina Cougars. When it was time to go, my pops stopped me. “I heard what Shad said about that damn event planner. I thought I told you to stop fuckin’ with females who can fuck with your money. Get your loose dick together, nigga.”
I was about to crack a joke until I saw a twinge of disappointment in my pop’s eyes. When I was younger, before I got into baseball, I saw that twinge a lot. I got into so much bullshit I had no business getting in. My father was determined to not let the streets raise me, and that was why he brought baseball into my life. The more involved I got with baseball, the less I saw that twinge.
“I got you, Pops. I got you.” I gave him a hug then left.
My house was only fifteen minutes away from my pops’. I stayed in Augusta when it was on season. In the off season, most of my time was spent in Atlanta, where I had a condo.
I was ready to get into bed by the time I got home. The lil’ throwback that tried to suck me off earlier was in my damn text messages. I never knew my throwbacks’ names. When I put them in my phone, I used a unique identifier so I would know who I was talking to. I updated the throwback from earlier name in my contact list before practice started.
Tooth fairy TB:
Hey Daddy! U want me 2 finish what we started earlier.
Me:
Now Ik I told you not 2 call me dat shit.
Tooth fairy TB:
Sorry babe! U want me 2 finish. If U tell me where U are I can b there soon.
She must have thought I was a fool. I never brought females to my house, ever. Bitches those days would set you up faster than nail glue dried.Wait!I looked at my watch.
Me:
Da bus runs this late? If it does U should take that shit to where Ur mind went thinkin’ U was comin’ here.
I didn’t wait for a response before I blocked her ass. Delusional bitches had to be cut off at the head. It didn’t matter how small the delusion was.
I was about to finally lay my ass down when my secondary phone rang. It was a phone line I had since college. Very few people had the number; plus, the phone was in my father’s name. I didn’t recognize the number.“Yo, who dis?”
No one spoke, although I heard breathing. That was some creep shit. Just as I was about to hang up, a voice finally spoke.“Um, hi. Is this Daylen Smith?”
