He winked. “I’m old because I don’t tell my secrets, Daphne.”

  Leaning in, I whispered, “I promise I won’t tell.”

  Ace chuckled softly. “Maybe one day. Nero told me Henry Childs was your father.”

  I took a sip of my sweet tea. “Yes. I told him I was going to meet you today and he wanted me to give you a fist bump.”

  Ace reached out and bumped his fist with mine. “Ol’ Hen … We had some good times. He used to drive for us back in the day. Cool cat.”

  I listened as Ace told me about the day my father helped him stay out of jail through his excellent driving skills. A protest at City Hall had gone wrong and the police were dispatched to break it up and arrest Ace and some of the organization’s top leaders. I was transfixed during the story and couldn’t wait to ask Dad about it. “Wow! I had no idea my father was that big a deal. I’ve only known him to be Deacon Childs.”

  “Yeah,” Ace rubbed his beard, “he saved a few of us that day.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Ray interrupted. “Wait ‘til I tell you about the time Nero did get arrested.”

  Shocked, I looked at Nero. “You got arrested for real?”

  Ray’s attention was on the haircut he was currently giving, but he answered, “He sure did.”

  “Man, shut up,” Nero warned. “You weren’t there anyway.”

  “I know what happened, though,” Ray argued. “I heard the story.”

  Nero tossed a clean towel at his cousin. “You talk too much.”

  “The lady needs to know what—”

  A commotion outside drew our attention to the door where a disheveled male was standing. The men in the room stood up, Ray’s hand reaching for his waist where I assumed he kept his gun. My eyes widened as Nero lifted his shirt, revealing his firearm.

  “What are you doing?” I whisper-yelled.

  Nero ignored me, his eyes focused on the man at the door. I tilted my head, trying to figure out where I knew the man from. The bright sun distorted his face so I couldn’t make him out. Realization dawned on me just as the man stepped further in the place. But before I could say anything, he collapsed onto the floor.

  Jumping into action, Nero ran over to him and checked his pulse while Ace made the call to 9-1-1. While Nero examined the semi-conscious man, he alternated between barking orders at Ray and asking the man pointed questions.

  My stomach twisted in knots as I neared them, my heart beating hard in my chest. I was vaguely aware of the flurry of activity around me, but I couldn’t focus on anything but the man on the ground. “Oh no,” I whispered as I took in his face. A face that had once been so handsome, a face beat up by circumstance and time, a face I’d seen up close multiple times.

  Nero glanced up at me, frowning. “Daphne?” he called softly.

  “Is he going to be okay?” My voice was small to my own ears, but all I could think about was … How am I going to tell Mom?

  Surprisingly, the paramedics arrived in record time. Thank God. But Nero didn’t move. He continued to work on him, and even hopped in the ambulance, leaving me with Ace and the others.

  Ace wrapped his arm around me. “I’m glad my grandson was here. It’s a shame to see the young man like this. I remember when he used to walk around with those drumsticks all the time. So talented.”

  Another tear streaked down my face, and I rushed to wipe it away, but Ace saw it.

  He squeezed my shoulder. “Daphne, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I lied.

  Ace glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “Do you know Walter?”

  “Yeah. He lived with us.” I met his waiting gaze. “My parents fostered him for a short time.”

  After helping everyone clean up at the barbershop, I took food to my parents’ house. While I was there, I told them about what had occurred with Walter earlier. Judging by his appearance, his efforts to stay clean had been futile. The last time I’d seen him, he looked healthy. He seemed so hopeful, so ready to get his life together.

  While my mother didn’t take the news well, my father had remained stoic. After sitting with them for an hour, I headed home. I busied myself cleaning and washing clothes, but eventually fell asleep on the couch.

  The buzz of my phone woke me up. I glanced at the screen, answering when I saw Nero’s name. “Hi.” I sat up and stretched. “Where are you?”

  “I’m outside.”

  I hurried to the door, swinging it open. “Hey,” I breathed.

  He cupped my face, pulling me to him and kissing me softly. “Sorry it took so long. I had to make a stop.”

  For the first time, I noticed a weird-looking box on the ground outside. I poked my head out of the door. “Was that there when you got here?” I asked.

  He picked the box up. “I brought it with me.”

  I studied it, noting the big holes in the cardboard. “What is this?” I asked. From inside the box, I heard a tiny meow. My eyes widened and I lifted the top of the box. “Oh my God,” I gasped, lifting the white and grey kitten out. “You bought me a cat?”

  “A friend of mine knew someone whose cat had just had a litter. I made a few calls, and the owner finally contacted me when I was at the hospital. I had to drive to Ann Arbor to get it.”

  With tears in my eyes, I cuddled the kitten, grinning when it snuggled into me. “So cute.”

  “She’s adorable,” he said. “I immediately thought of you when I saw the picture.”

  My heart swelled in my chest. “Nero, I can’t believe you did this.”

  “I know you miss Kitty. And even though it’s not her, I feel like you’ll grow to love this baby girl too.” Nero brought in more stuff while I played with my new kitten—wet and dry food, bowls, a litter box, bedding, and a toy. He shut the door and locked it. “That’s it.”

  I grabbed the catnip mouse. “I think you went overboard on the supplies.”

  He shrugged. “I wasn’t sure what to buy, so I just got everything I thought you might need tonight. We’ll go shopping for her tomorrow.”

  For the next half an hour, we got the newest member of my household situated. “I think I want to name her Coco,” I announced, dragging my fingers through her fur.

  Nero frowned. “That’s a weird name for a white kitten.”

  “Not really. Her soul is Coco.”

  He barked out a laugh. “I like it then.”

  I opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses. He picked up Coco and met me by the sofa. We settled down, entwined with each other. “This is nice.” I burrowed into his chest, while Coco stretched out near my foot. Craning my neck, I kissed his chin.

  He brushed his lips over my brow. “I love seeing you happy.”

  The room descended into silence, and I wondered what Nero was thinking. “How is …?” He’d stayed connected with me via short, concise texts as they traveled to the hospital and even once they arrived at the emergency room.

  “He’s doing much better,” he replied. “It’s a good thing he walked into the barbershop when he did. How do you know Walt?”

  I blinked. “Huh?”

  “When we were in the ambulance, he called your name.”

  “He did?”

  “Yeah. I thought back to how you reacted when you saw him. It’s obvious you two have a connection.”

  “We do,” I admitted. “He was my foster brother for a time. Even after he moved back home, he kept in touch with my parents. And me. I haven’t seen him in a while. It was heartbreaking to see him in that condition.”

  “Ah, okay. Did you know he was an addict?”

  “He’s been using for a while. We tried to help him, but he relapsed several times. How do you know him?”

  Nero brushed his finger down my arm lazily. “He lived in our neighborhood. His grandmother was one of our neighbors.”

  “Small world.” I took a sip of wine. “I know you can’t tell me what’s wrong with him, but is he dying?”

  “Not if he takes care of himself,” Nero said. “I gave him my card again and told him to come see me. I hope he does.”

  “I heard you back at the shop.” I recalled something Nero murmured to himself earlier. Something about insulin. “How did you know he was diabetic?”

  “I saw him back in April and he had some of the signs then,” he explained. “Today, he looked like he’d lost at least ten pounds since I’d seen him. Of course, I could’ve been wrong, but ...”

  “You weren’t wrong. Walter was diagnosed when he lived with us. No matter what my parents did to support him, he always had trouble managing his condition.”

  “Unfortunately, he’s not the only one.”

  “He’s alive because you were there.”

  “I’m alive because of him,” he confessed.

  Frowning, I turned to face him. “What do you mean?” I set my glass on the end table. “How did Walter save your life?”

  “You heard the story at the barbershop. I was troubled.” He chuckled. “It was worse before my mother died. I loved her, but she didn’t exactly hold us accountable. She was always too busy with her next boyfriend.”

  I tried to imagine Nero as a child. Knowing him now, I couldn’t picture him getting in trouble. He was so accomplished, so poised, so confident. “That must have sucked.”

  “I didn’t know any better. My father had left her after I was born. She got with this asshole and had three more kids, back-to-back. Then, he left her. She did her best to take care of us. But she died because she didn’t take care of herself.”

  I brushed my finger over his cheek. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  He sighed heavily. “I was an angry kid, pissed off at the world. I started hanging with the older kids in the hood, doing shit I shouldn’t be doing. One day, we decided we were going to rob the corner store.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. We took two guns from my homeboy’s house and walked to the store. Walt just happened to be on the block that day. He was in and out of his grandmother’s house, as you probably know.”

  “Right.”

  “When he saw us, he stopped my ass from going with them. I still remember what he told me that day.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Told me I was smart, had a good head on my shoulders, and that I needed to leave them fools where they were. I was too young to understand, but then he threatened to tell Ace.” He smiled. “And I wasn’t trying to get in trouble.”

  “So Ace was around when you were with your mom?”

  “Oh yeah. He would come over to check on me. Let everyone around see him walking the street so they’d know he was my grandfather. I didn’t appreciate it at the time because I wanted to do what I wanted to do.”

  “I’m glad he was there for you.”

  “Yeah. Anyway, I ended up going home that day. My friends followed through with the plan. One of them got killed by the store owner. The other two were arrested and sent to a detention center. They were never the same. Neither was I. After that, I started paying attention in school, spending more time on homework. I still fucked up every now and then.”

  “Right. You stole some kid’s shit and sold it.”

  Chuckling, he mumbled, “Ray talks too much. But I graduated from high school with honors and received a full scholarship to U of M. I always said things could’ve turned out very different for me had Walt not been there.”

  I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him. “Walter said the right thing at the right time. And you made the right decision. ” I kissed his shoulder, then his neck, and finally his mouth. “I’m glad you’re the man you are now.”

  “Because you wouldn’t have wanted my bad ass.”

  I tapped my chin. “Actually, Young Daphne probably would’ve been infatuated with you.”

  “Oh,” he stood, cradling me in his arms. “So you have a dangerous side?”

  I cracked up. “A little one.”

  He kissed me. “You think Coco would mind if I stole you for a few hours?”

  I glanced down at my sleeping kitten, then back at the man who’d given me the best gift I’d ever received. “I think Coco is going to be knocked out for a while.”

  “Good. Because I need a shower. And I plan to fuck you against the wet tile.”

  Chapter 8

  Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I’m Yours)

  NERO

  The Juneteenth Jubilee Detroit Event kicked off with the health fair on the Friday before the holiday. Every volunteer was present and accounted for, and willing to serve the community with grace. While the various organizations had held smaller Juneteenth celebrations for years, the decision to combine forces to put on an entire weekend of events had transformed the holiday for many in the city. With a different theme each year, local partners were able to cater to the diverse needs of our community. There was something for everyone—tailgate parties, a huge barbecue, speakers, a 5k walk, a literacy event. And now a health fair.

  Watching everyone come together for a common cause was worth all the struggle to put this event on. I arrived early in the morning with Zoe and Nala. They’d been instrumental in helping me plan the health fair, and I couldn’t be prouder of them. Everyone who’d helped put this event together had come through.

  As I visited the various tents, I introduced myself to those who didn’t know me and was met with smiling eyes and willing hearts. It felt good. At the entrance to the fair, we set up registration tables for those who wished to be seen by a health professional. So far, we’d had seventy people sign up for screening. Currently, the line was wrapped around the courtyard.

  Food trucks serving healthy foods were stationed along the edges of the perimeter. Near the stage, people were watching a cooking demonstration. There were several vendors scattered in the area, offering everything from smoking cessation program information to guided meditations and yoga to on-site chair massages. The American Heart Association was on hand, along with other organizations, the local twenty-four-hour gym, and even the Wayne County health department.

  Zoe ordered me to grab breakfast a few hours ago and had recently sent me off on a smoothie mission before I started my shift in the screening tent. When I arrived back, I handed smoothies out to my team, then sat down and got ready to work.

  I’d screened at least twenty people before my phone buzzed.

  Daphne: It’s too hot out there.

  Last night, Daphne had come up with every excuse not to wear her hair down today. She’d lost the rematch during our axe-throwing date, and I got to choose what I wanted from her. Smiling to myself, I recalled the expression on her face when I told her I wanted her to wear her hair down for an entire week. She’d scrunched up her nose and begged me to relent. She argued that the humid Michigan weather would make her hair swell up. She also explained the need for protective styles during summer months to mitigate damage to her hair follicles and texture. But I didn’t budge. Yet. Tomorrow I would probably give in, but today … She was going to wear her curls wild and free.

  “Why are you smiling, Dad?” Zoe asked, peering at me curiously. “You’ve been doing it all morning. Especially when you look at your phone.”

  I glanced at Zoe, before responding to Daphne’s text: See you in a few. If I see a ponytail holder, I’ll have to spank you.

  Daphne: You suck.

  Daphne: And you can spank me anyway.

  I chuckled but decided not to respond to that. Glancing at Zoe, I asked, “Did you ever hear from Dr. Sanders?”

  “Don’t change the subject, Dad.” Zoe wrapped her arm around my shoulder. “Nala and I have noticed that you seem a lot less tense lately. We want to know what’s up.”

  Nala chose that moment to join the conversation. “Exactly.”

  I frowned. “Where did you come from? Aren’t you supposed to be managing the children’s activities?”

  My youngest daughter had chosen to go into pediatric occupational therapy. She enjoyed working with little ones and figured that was where she would be needed. “I’m on a break. Shoot, it’s hot.”

  “Enough about that,” Zoe said, “who are you texting?”

  Given my rocky start in life, there was no doubt in my mind that God was looking out for me when he placed key people in my path. Ace and Granny, Zoe and Nala, and now Daphne, had made my life so much sweeter. I rubbed Nala’s hair. “I met someone.”

  Zoe’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

  “It’s about time,” Nala said. “I thought Mom had ruined you for everyone.”

  I barked out a laugh. “Really?”

  Zoe shrugged a shoulder. “I did too.”

  Meeting Zoe’s concerned gaze, then Nala’s, I admitted, “Me too.”

  “Who is she?” they both asked at the same time.

  Nala giggled, shoving Zoe playfully. “Better question,” she tapped her chin, “is she nice. Not just nice to everyone else, but to you?”

  “What does she do for a living?” Zoe tag teamed.

  “And does she have kids?” Nala continued. “Her own house? Her own money?”

  Pleasantly surprised, I listened as they interrogated me about Daphne. Their questions were thoughtful, and I could tell they were worried about me more than anything. I considered joking that I wished they were around when I met Evelyn, but I refrained. Once they finished round-one of their rapid-fire questions, I replied, “No kids. Owns a beautiful, newer home in a quiet neighborhood. Works at the university as a facilities director and never asks me for money.”

  By the time I finished responding to everything my daughters had asked, I spotted Daphne strolling along the sidewalk, with Lanelle and someone I didn’t recognize. Our eyes met, and she beamed and gestured toward her hair. And I …

  Damn, I want her. Not just for sex, not just for play, but for the rest of our lives. She pointed at the tent and walked over to us, followed closely by her homegirls.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey, baby.”

  One of my medical assistants stopped what she was doing and stared openly at us. The way people talked, that one term of endearment would no doubt make it to the dean before the end of the day. Daphne noticed, too, because she raised a brow at the nosy assistant.

 

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