I ain’t saying you’re perfect, nobody is, but you’re the perfect gift God gave me. “I named your sister Starr because she was my light in the darkness. “See, I believe in giving my kids names that mean something.
Some do make it, but they’re messed up by the time they get there. And where we come from, a lot of them don’t make it to eighteen. A lot of young brothers don’t get theirs. “You’re grown now!”ĭaddy shoots Sekani an up-and-down look. “He can’t tell you what to do, Seven,” Sekani chirps. Seven leans down to blow the candles out, but Daddy says, “Wait! Man, you know you don’t blow no candles out till I say something.” Momma tells her, “The candles are about to go out, Momma!” Nana takes the song way too far and hits notes that don’t need to be hit. These cultural differences are crazy sometimes. Our family, Kenya, DeVante, and Layla-basically, all the black people-sing the Stevie Wonder version of “Happy Birthday.” Maya seems to know it. I turn the music down.ĭaddy sets the cake on the patio table, and everybody crowds around it and Seven. “Happy birthday to ya!” they sing, and Momma does this not-as-embarrassing shoulder bounce. They’re both wearing cone-shaped birthday hats, and Daddy carries a huge sheet cake with candles lit on top of it. He smiles at me a little and gives a quick nod. Midway through the song, Seven and Layla come back out. Kendrick raps about how everything will be all right. Scrolling through the playlist, I find this Kendrick Lamar song Seven played for me one day, right after Khalil died. I pick up Daddy’s iPod from the patio table, our DJ for the afternoon that’s hooked up to the sound system. The music’s off, and Seven’s friends stand around, talking in hushed tones.Ĭhris and Maya walk up to me. Seven and Iesha unknowingly hit the pause button on the party. Not even an “okay.” Not that I expected her to suddenly go, “Of course, he’s our brother, I’m extremely sorry for acting like he wasn’t yours too.” I hoped for something though. I didn’t say it in a mean way or even with an attitude, I swear. She heads for the door, but I say, “ Our brother.” C’mon, let’s go back out there and stop them from talking about my brother, ’cause you know they’re talking.” Nah, I ain’t say you need to go off on her, that would be stupid. “You know what? I’m gonna let that slide. “So you want me to go off on her? I can’t believe you think I went off on you. It’s hard to stand up for yourself sometimes. ” Good Lord, I never thought I’d say this. I was afraid to speak out for Khalil, and you went off on me about it.” With him.” Kenya wipes her face on her arm. “I understand why my brother didn’t invite my momma, but. This is the most awkward situation ever-my friend’s dad possibly wants to kill me. Sometimes it’s not necessary.Īfter a few minutes, she says, “I’m sorry my daddy’s mad at you.” I climb onto the stool and don’t say anything. She sits at the counter and buries her face in her hands. I grab her arm and take her to the kitchen. Kenya’s face is scrunched up like she’s gonna cry. “Come here, baby,” she says, and they somehow hug.ĭaddy touches my shoulder and Kenya’s. Layla gets up, and Momma takes her spot on the steps. He looks up with red, puffy eyes that I’ve never seen on my brother before. We find him on the bottom of the staircase. It’s one thing to hear gossip that somebody plans to “fuck you up,” but it’s a whole different thing to hear it from somebody who would actually know.īut I can’t worry about King right now. “Tell him try it if he wants and see what happens!” says Daddy. Can’t wait till King fuck y’all up for letting that girl snitch on him on TV.” “You happy, Maverick? You and that trick you married finally turned my son against me. “Nothing to wait for.” She throws her door open. Iesha turns on her heels and starts for her car. The music has stopped, and heads peek over the backyard fence. And you couldn’t even give that back to me.” All I ever did was love you.” His voice cracks. How dare you stand there and take credit for it. That’s what you call ‘doing’ for me? That woman right there”-he stretches his arm toward Momma-“did everything you were supposed to and then some. “Me! You got mad at me! Said I made him leave. “All you’ve done for me? What? Putting me out the house? Choosing a man over me every single chance you got? Remember when I tried to stop King from whooping your ass, Iesha? Who did you get mad at?” Iesha blinks several times and says in a voice like broken glass, “After all I’ve done for you.” “I’ll tell her how I didn’t think she gave a damn about my birthday, ’cause guess what? She never has! ‘You didn’t invite me, you didn’t invite me,’” he mocks. “No, Kenya!” he says, his sights square on their momma.