Just look at the difference in proposals. I’m not even talking about the ring. It was the words he expressed in this proposal, the emotions, all of that. What’s so crazy is that I told myself that if I ever got proposed to again, I wanted something intimate. I didn’t want to be proposed to in front of a room full of people, I didn’t need it to happen in a restaurant with everybody looking at us. What Miami did was more than what I needed. We were going to be the only two people in this marriage, so he made sure that we were the only two people in attendance when he chose to ask me the question.
The whole way back to the car, as he held my right hand, I kept picking up my left hand and staring at the ring in amazement that I was now engaged to someone. A month ago, I thought it was over for Miami and me. Now look, I was about to marry this man. Tears of joy clouded my vision the whole way back to the car. Once we made it inside the car, he pulled out.
“What kind of wedding do you want, shorty? I’m not trying to be engaged to you forever either. Hell, if you down to do it tomorrow, then I’m down with that as well,” he said, followed by a laugh, although I knew that he was dead ass serious.
“Strictly our close friends and loved ones. I don’t want the niggas from the block, the niggas from the barber, the gym, none of that. Baby, just our families and friends that we speak to every day,” I let him know in all seriousness.
He laughed at what I said, as he looked down at me. I had to tell Miami things like this because I could see him now, thinking that our wedding was a day to bring the whole damn hood out. As serious as I was about not wanting a lot of people at our wedding, I had to admit that my man’s ability to always go back to the hood, give back, and not forget where he came from was actually one of the things that I liked about him. The fact that his rec centers were smack dab in the middle of the hood, where some of the crime in Miami is at an all-time high, versus it being somewhere on Lincoln Avenue in Miami Beach is another thing that drew me to him. I couldn’t stand when a person got money, and all of a sudden, they forgot where they came from.
“Damn, why we can’t have the niggas from the block? I’m trying to have a dice game going on in the back of the reception. I want the corner boys posted on the walls smoking and all that hood shit that we’re accustomed to,” he said, and I looked at him like he was crazy.
As playful as his voice sounded, something told me that if I were to have been down with it, it sure as hell would have taken place.
“I’m fuckin’ with you, beautiful,” he said, and at the same time, his phone started ringing from the car.
I looked at the screen and released a sigh when I saw that it was the hospital calling. Nothing good could come from this call. It was almost eleven at night. They never called at this time because Miami’s father would usually be asleep before this time. I said a quick prayer, hoping that everything was going to be okay before Miami answered the phone. I could tell that Miami was thinking the worst, just like I was because he was stalling to press answer on the car screen. When he did eventually answer, his hand shook.
“Don’t tell it to me over the phone. If he’s gone, just hang up. I swear that’s all I need to know,” Miami said.
His voice cracked as he spoke, and that’s when I grabbed his right hand, placed it in mine, and kissed the back of it.
“Mr. King, I—”
“Nah. I’m on my way over there regardless. Respect my wishes, man. If he’s gone, just hang up. I don’t want to hear you say that shit over the motha fuckin’ phone, yo!” Miami barked.
At the same time, his voice cracked again, and tears fell from his eyes. We heard the line make two beeps, and when it did, I started crying myself. We knew that this day was going to come because the doctor had been warning us, but that didn’t make it better.
“Fuccccckkkkkkk!” Miami screamed, punching the steering wheel over and over.
“Baby, pull over. Let me drive us there. Pull the car over, Miami,” I kept saying over and over, but of course, my request went ignored.
Miami drove so fuckin’ crazy on the way to the hospital that not only was I crying because we had pretty much just found out about the death of his father, but also because I was scared out of my fuckin’ mind by how fast he was driving and the way that he was weaving in and out of traffic.
“Shit! I should have never left him there! I just wanted one fuckin’ night to have with you, and now look! I should have stayed! I should have fuckin’ stayed,” he kept saying over and over.
I was supposed to be his backbone, calming him down, but seeing him act like this wasn’t doing anything but making me emotional. I hated to see Miami hurting because since he came into my life, and we started this love for each other, he has been the glue that kept everything together. He has been the one to keep me together since the death of Vonte. He was truly my backbone, and at this moment, it was so tough to be his because I was secondhandedly getting all of the hurt that he was felt, and my emotions weren’t allowing me to be as strong as I should have been.
The whole drive to the hospital, we didn’t say anything to each other. Truthfully, I was scared to even say anything. All I did was continue to hold his hand as I used my other one to wipe my tears that were constantly falling. Since I was a little girl, I always cried when I saw other people crying around me. I was just able to naturally sympathize with people. This was my man that we were talking about. The two of us were just happy as hell about our engagement, and now we had to deal with this.
The timing couldn’t have been more off. It took us about twenty minutes to get to the hospital, and this particular hospital has valet services that ran all night, so Miami quickly got out of the car, and the valet attendant came right on over. I didn’t wait for Miami to come around and open my door like I always did. Instead, I got out on my own because from the looks of things, I would have to keep up with him because he was walking so damn fast. We made it into the hospital, and no one was standing in line to get checked in, so we were able to walk right up.
I’m not sure if the security behind the desk who was checking us in heard the tone of Miami’s voice and was able to see that he wasn’t in a good mood, but she was moving fast as hell to print out our badge for us to put on. It didn’t take long for her to hand us everything that we needed, and shortly after, we were hoping on the elevator.
“You and I haven’t been on a date in God knows how long. Shit is always happening, and with my ole boy being sick, this is where I have been spending the majority of my days. All I wanted to do tonight was take my woman out and ask you something that I’ve wanted to ask you for a while now. In the midst of me doing that, I didn’t think that this shit would happen. Fuck, man!” Miami said as we rode the elevator up.
His head was down, and he was crying. I walked over to him and placed one arm around him while I held the back of his head. With his face buried in the crook of my neck, he broke down. I’d never witnessed Miami like this before. Like, ever. Hearing my man cry just tugged at my heart, but I fought like hell to keep my tears at bay.
Miami didn’t have to express to me how much he loved his father because I knew. The bond that the two of them had was something that I wished Vonte would have been able to have with his father. Yes, they were father and son, but they just clicked like two best friends. I had the honor of meeting Miami’s father a while back, and I instantly was drawn to him. He was a handsome man, and I hoped that when Miami aged, he would look the same way. He was so charismatic, and he just naturally had that good father and good grandfather in him because Taniya loved him, and so did Miami.
I held Miami until we heard the elevator doors open, and that’s when he let me go. He used the back of his hand to wipe his face, and then the two of us stepped off the elevator together. We rounded the corner, and suddenly, we were standing in front of the room that we’d been coming to for the past few months. Having to do this just put me in a bad space, and it just reminded me of when I had to open that hospital door and witness my so
n lying lifeless in that bed.
A huge part of me wanted to stand outside and let Miami have his moment, but I also knew that as his woman, I had to be here right now for him and support him. Lord knows that I didn’t want to witness this, but I still ended up coming inside with Miami. There he was. No machines were hooked up to him, and there were no sounds from the machines filling the room. There was no sadness from looking at him. In the past, I would look at him and become emotional. I could tell that he was fighting.
A huge part of me felt like Miami’s dad stuck around for so long because he knew how badly it would hurt his son when he left. We’re talking about a man who wasn’t even over the death of his mother. Looking down at Mr. King, I swear I saw peace in him. He was exactly where he was supposed to be; where he wanted to be.
“Baby, I know you don’t want to hear this, but look at him. He’s fine. He is in the most peaceful place that he’s probably been in since finding out that he has cancer. He’s okay, and I’m pretty sure that all he would want is for you to be okay. You can’t tell me that you don’t see how peaceful he looks,” I pointed out.
Miami didn’t say anything; he just continued to hold onto his father’s hand. He didn’t break down and cry like I thought he would. If anything, he just stood there. After about five minutes of standing, I went and took a seat in the corner of the room. Miami didn’t come over to where I was until almost thirty minutes later. He grabbed my arm and pulled me up from the chair and then took a seat where I just was, and he sat me down in his lap.
One of his arms came around and held onto the front of my stomach while his head rested on my back. For hours, we stayed like this, and to tell you the truth, I didn’t mind it one bit.
Mahogany Brooks
“I’m so sorry again for your loss, bro. How are you holding up?” I asked Miami as we walked out of the church after his father’s funeral.
The funeral was a little bit over an hour long and very intimate since Mr. King didn’t have much family. His friends from when he attended school were in attendance, and a lot of Miami’s friends had come because he was like a father figure to them in many ways. I hated everything about funerals, but Miami and I had a bond now, and he was like a brother to me, so I had to pay my condolences. From all the good things that were said today at the funeral about Mr. King, I could tell that he was one hell of a dad, one hell of a person, and friend. He was literally nothing like the fucked-up individual that I had for a sperm donor.
I’m sorry, but Jahir couldn’t say a motha fucka thing to me that would get me to forgive his ass. The reason he couldn’t say shit to me is that I know for a fact that had my mama never told me the truth, or in her case, had me go to Jahir to get the truth, that nigga wouldn’t have said shit to me about him being my daddy.
It’s so crazy because back when I was a little girl, I used to wish like hell that Jahir was my daddy because I had witnessed the things that he did for Jashae and me, and I wanted that in father form. Whole time, that nigga was my fuckin’ daddy. I was so mad with that man that I actually wanted to fight his ass. The only thing that kept me from putting hands on his ass was the fact that he was my Jashae’s daddy, and I didn’t want to put her in the middle of it.
The way my heart was set up, I knew that there would never be any hashing things out between the two of us. I was a grown ass, thirty-year-old woman, who didn’t want to hear a whole bunch of I’m sorry's from a grown ass man who had plenty of time to do the right fuckin’ thing.
“Thanks, sis. All I can say is that I’m taking it one day at a time. This shit ain’t easy, but with my fiancée by my side, she’s helping a nigga get through it,” he assured me, and I smiled at his words.
Jashae wasn’t too far from us. She was actually talking to an older gentleman who had said a few words during the funeral. He attended school with Mr. King, and the two of them had run track together.
“Listen to you, talking about my fiancée. I’m so happy for the two of you. I can’t wait for the wedding,” I cooed.
When Jashae told me about the engagement, I was so happy for her that I was crying my damn self. Shae deserved all the happiness that she was getting, plus so much more. Just to think that a little over a year ago, she was dating Trip’s ass and ready to ride that bid out with him. I couldn’t express how happy I was that she’d finally moved on and was soaking in all the love that God had been trying to give her, but she was just too blind to really accept it.
“You good, bruh?” Jabari asked, walking up to Miami.
They gave each other a brotherly hug, which lasted for a few seconds. Everyone could tell that Miami needed to be surrounded by all the love that he could possibly get.
My husband looked so fuckin’ good this afternoon in that black, three-piece suit. I’d been keeping my nasty thoughts to myself all damn morning because we were in a church, and God would probably strike me down for thinking about the many ways that I wanted to suck his dick when we made it back home. He’d just gotten a haircut late last night. His barber had come over to the house a little after midnight and had gotten my baby right. His waves were swimming, that beard was making me go crazy, and he smelled so damn good to me.
“I’m good, man. What are you about to get into?” Miami asked Jabari.
“I’m about to head to my store real quick to check on a few things. Hit me up later. You need to get out of the fuckin’ house. Shae told me how you don’t be liking to go nowhere these days. Ima slide through and pick you up. Aight?” he asked Miami while he held his hand out for Miami to give him dap.
Miami let him know that he was cool with that.
“Let’s go. Its hotter than a motha fucka out here. I’m dropping you off to your mama, so you can be with the baby for a few while I go and check up on the stores. Mother-in-law or not, I don’t trust nobody else around my child for that many damn hours,” Jabari said the moment we made it to the car.
He removed the suit jacket that he had on along with the vest, placed it in the back seat, and then he got in the car. He turned the air on to the max, and then he shot out.
“I can ride with you. My mama just texted me a picture of Jamaria, and she’s sleeping,” I let him know.
“I’m still dropping you off over there, shorty. I’m going into the store right quick to check on business. You know damn well you don’t want to sit up in an office with me while I conduct business,” he said all aggressively.
Now that I think about it, this nigga has had a fuckin’ attitude with me since last night. I shrugged it off as him being tired because he did get in until late last night. He didn’t really have a reason to be all aggressive and shit to me this afternoon.
“Your bitch’s shop must be open, and you don’t want me to run into her. You not fuckin’ slick, nigga. Nah, don’t take me to my mama’s house. I’m riding with you,” I said, and he shook his head and then let out a sarcastic laugh. He pulled down on his beard as he eased in and out of traffic.
“Shorty, you the fuckin’ slick master around this motha fucka. Ima start calling your ass Slick Rick with your sneaky ass,” he said.
“Jabari, what the fuck are you even talking about? What did I sneak and do?” I asked, sitting up in the seat and looking at him like he was crazy because I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.
“You slick as fuck, Mahogany, just know that. You took a Plan B yesterday, ain’t it?” he asked.
I sucked my teeth as I rolled my eyes. So, this is what this nigga was mad at? Because I took a fuckin’ Plan B?
“Wowwww! This why you call yourself having an attitude with me? Because I’m taking preventive measures to not get pregnant again?” I said.
“I love you to death, shorty, but you’re full of shit, yo. Preventive measures are getting your dumb ass on birth control if you really don’t want a kid again because you know damn well that I’m not strapping up shit when it comes to you! Then, you going to roll the box up in tissue paper and put it in the guest bathroom l
ike a nigga isn’t the one who takes the trash out. You something else, yo,” he said as we made it on the turnpike.
This nigga was really mad, and I didn’t know whether to laugh or be serious. This was the same man who told me over a thousand times while I was pregnant that he didn’t have any plans of knocking me up anytime soon because, in his words, I was an ‘emotional piece of work’ while pregnant.
“I’ll get on birth control then. Jabari, you are really tripping. You act like this the first Plan B I took!” I screamed.
“Nah, I actually don’t know. How many of those motha fuckas did you take?” he asked.
Damn, now why did I let that slip out?
“That was like my second one,” I mumbled.
I heard him suck his teeth.
“Well, in my defense, you were supposed to get the first one that I took, but you didn’t, so I bought it myself. Jabari, why the fuck are you getting mad at me about that? We are in no predicament to be having another baby. Damn, nigga, I just got my ass in the gym, and I have a goal that I’m trying to reach. My edges are coming back. I can drink my wine for dinner and smoke a little weed when I want to. Damn, can Jamaria get a tooth first? Can she get her ears pierced or something? Shit, Bari!” I said.
I didn’t think he understood what the fuck a woman has to go through when she carries a baby. The last couple of months were so draining on me. Let’s not even talk about how my labor story had calmed my hot ass down and was the cause of me popping the Plan Bs in the first place because I wasn’t ready to relive something like that again.
I swear niggas were so fuckin’ selfish. They wanted to keep us pregnant because they swore that pregnant pussy was to die for. In the ending months, we didn’t have a choice to sit our asses down because that’s when pregnancy takes a toll on our bodies. He just wanted to have my ass cooped up in the fuckin’ house. A nigga couldn’t stand for his woman to be on his hot girl shit and doing all the shit that she couldn’t do when she was pregnant.
Down With the King of the South 4 Page 10
