Page 153 of Grace

“Yeah. Why we ain’t inLake Sha’Ron, so we can show niggas you come from good fruit? I ain’t fuck nothin’ up here.”

“Ma,” Jas warned.

But not before Lamont begged her pardon again. “Excuse me?”

“Ma, for real. Chill,” Jas demanded. “Pops, I’m trying to share some things with you.”

“What things?” Lamont demanded and I now knew how different Jas was from his father. Yes, as a father, you’d want to be in the know of your child’s life, but Lamont’s tone was demanding and a tad aristocratic. Those traits couldn’t be further from his son’s. “You want to marry Shi-Shi? I get that.”

“Nah. Not that,” Jas explained. “I mean, yeah, it’s true, but there’s more.”

Lamont, wearing a baby blue short-sleeve polo and khaki shorts, scoffed, “I’m listening.”

It was also clear how Jas could speak fluently with proper dictation when he wanted. Lamont must have been that model for him coming up. That made Jas’ parents a gross mismatch to say they’d once conceived a child together.

Jas’ nostrils widened. He was losing his patience. “For one: I’m no longer on parole.”

“Since when?”

Charmagne snickered.

“I was discharged a month ago.” Jas waited for his father’s reaction, because even I assumed it was coming.

Apparently, uncomfortably, Lamont shifted in his chair and cleared his throat. “Well, that’s good, son. Glad it’s past you.”

Jas snorted. “The next thing is I am the sole operator of my construction firm. I own the company, too.”

Nicholas’ face swiped up from the table, eyes stretched wide, and mouth formed an O.

Lamont’s forehead wrinkled. “How is that remotely possible?”

Jas’ eyes brushed against me as he exhaled. “It’scomplicat—”

“I’m the parent who can follow data,” Lamont’s volume higher than Jas’.

I blinked hard at his audacity. Charmagne grinning, shook her head in silence.

Jas tried again. “Rizzo, the former owner, knew years ago he’d bow out of the game. I was able to purchase small portions of the company until I could afford the whole thing.”

“And how did you come across the money?”

Jas rubbed his lips together, seemingly fortifying himself. “Old money.”

“As in illegal money?”

“Nah.” Jas shook his head. “Everything was done legally, which brings me to another point. When I was locked down, I bagged a crib.”

Lamont blinked. “Pardon me. I don’t do slang that well…have even taught my son here not to so I’m confident he can’t explain what bagged means.” He thumbed Nicholas, whose face shaded even more scarlet.

“I purchased a home.” Jas’ chin lowered. The man was visibly fighting for patience. “A few years before my release, I bought a home.”

“Again, Jas. How could you afford that? If a significant portion of your ‘old’ money went into the construction business, how did you have more for a house? And what house are we talking about—” His attention swung over to Charmagne. “Don’t tell me you’re talking aboutLake Sha’Ron?The—that’s impossible!”

“Why?” Charmagne asked, brows hiked, head cocked to the side as she rocked in her chair.

“Because—you know why? That neighborhood is wealthy.” He turned to Jas. “Is that what we’re talking here?Lake Sha’Ron?” He sputtered, “Impossible!”

He was utterly stunned and regretfully, I could relate to Lamont—though the jury was still out on if I liked the man. But in this instance, I could relate. Normal, everyday, poor or middle-class working people would never in their lifetimes be able to afford a home onLake Sha’Ron.Icouldn’t afford a home there. Even if possible, I’d never be able to afford furniture or the upkeep of a home there.

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