Dear Giovonni,
I didn’t forget about you. I still keep in touch with a few of the correctional officers there. I discreetly ask about you every chance I get. I heard about the group that you organized, and I’m proud of you. I knew that you had it in you to do better things. It was just a matter of you applying yourself. I pray for you so much, Giovonni. Lord knows I wish your circumstances were different. Under all that tough-guy stuff that you like to showcase, I know that you’re a good person. I want you to continue doing good things, continue being a voice for these young boys. You have the power to make them change because, like I told you the last time, they look up to you.
Anyway, I felt like you deserved to see this. I decided to name her Ava Princess Young. Ava after my mother who passed two years ago, and Princess because she’s my princess. I know I waited until she was ten months to share this with you, but honestly, I wasn’t ready. I hate that this is how you had to find out about her, but there’s nothing I can do to change this. Flip his page over, and there she is.
With watery eyes, I turned the letter over, and the most beautiful little girl, who was the spitting image of me looked back at me. I couldn’t deny that little girl even if I tried. I cried because this was just another daughter of mine who would have to grow up without me in her life. I sat there for almost an hour, just staring at her beautiful picture. Eventually, I ended up taping the picture on the wall, putting her right next to Maya. In that order were my three kids; Giovonte, Maya, and Ava. Such beautiful people, who I felt like deserved so much better than to have me as a dad, but hey, I guess it wasn’t up to me to make that decision.
Mahogany Brooks
“Come on. Run with Pop-Pop,” Jahir said to Jamaria, and she took off running with her grandad. I know, I know, I said that I wouldn’t pursue a relationship with him, but dammit, my daughter loved him, and I wanted to do better. Look how long I went without speaking to my mother. Hell, she and I were still catching up and learning new things about each other. This was the year of forgiveness, and that’s exactly what I was doing with Jahir. It was hard to be mean to a person when they were being so nice and actually trying. He adored Jamaria, and she adored him just as much.
I wouldn’t say that he and I are the magazine cover for the perfect daughter and daddy duo, but we were trying, or should I say that I was trying. I stood up, with my back killing me, watching my one-year-old daughter run up and down the big back yard with her granddad. She’d just turned one two days ago, and I was still trying to figure out how the hell this year passed by so fast like this. She was just a baby. I just had her in the bathroom what felt like a damn day ago.
“You need to sit your ass down somewhere, Mahogany. I’m serious. I’m not about to be sitting up in nobody hospital today. The fight comes on in another hour. Please sit down. Damn!” Jabari said, looking behind him, as he flipped burgers on the grill.
God had a sense of humor that was out of this damn world. Yes, you called it. My ass was thirty-five weeks pregnant again, this time with a bad ass baby boy on the way. My tubes were getting tied after this one. I was convinced that all Jabari had to do was look at me, and I would get pregnant.
“Shut up, nigga. You just worried about passing out on me again if my water breaks right here. You so worried about me having this baby right now when you need to be worried about those burgers. Me and your son are starving,” I let him know, and he laughed.
“When are you and my son not starving? With y’all greedy asses,” he said. My appetite with this baby was out of this world. I was nowhere like this when I was pregnant with Jamaria. With her, I could barely keep food down, so I didn’t crave a lot of stuff. This little boy had me eating stuff that I never ate before a day in my life. I had gained almost forty pounds already with him. I did end up taking Jabari’s advice and sitting down because that pressure in my back was killing me. He came over and stood in front of me, placing his hands on my shoulders and massaging them.
“I can’t express to you enough how much I love you like this,” he commented.
“Soak all of this up because, after this, that’s it. Nigga, I done let you mess up two hot girl summers for me, back to back. That’s it,” I said in all honesty.
“Yea,h right. I love you, shorty. You carry my kids well. Real fuckin’ well,” he complimented, making me smile.
“I love you too, baby,” I let him know.
Jabari and I were at a point in our relationship where we were fine. That ex bitch Kenyatta of his had sold her shop and taken her ass back to Atlanta, where she belonged. She was just a topic of the past now because after I beat her ass in that parking lot, we never heard from her again. She knew better. According to Jabari’s mother, she won’t even do her hair anymore. She cut off all ties with her once she got her ass beat.
I still had my guard up, though, when it came to Jabari’s mom. I wasn’t too trusting of her. I let her see Jamaria whenever she came to town, but best believe I was right there watching her. She still threw out little sly comments whenever she saw me, and I always threw mine out right back. We would probably never be the best of friends, but for the sake of Jabari, we tolerated each other. I think she knew that she couldn’t run me away, so she had no choice but to tolerate me.
My life was peaceful these days. I had both of my parents in my life, who were both trying to make up for lost time. I was creating history with my husband and our daughter, and any day now, our son would be here. Life was good.
Jashae King
“Baby, get the blanket out the back. I don’t want to mess up my dress,” I said to Miami, as I held on Little Miami, better known as Toddrick Giovonte King in my arms. It was only right that I gave my baby boy his big brother’s first name as his middle name.
Little Miami was beautiful. He had his daddy’s hazel eyes, his same caramel skin, and my jet-black curly hair, along with my dimples. I could cry at how beautiful he was. Six months ago, I birthed him, and he’s been glued to me ever since. Miami hated it. It was so funny to me because Miami begged for a son, and now that he had one, my son didn’t want anything to do with him and everything to do with me.
Little Miami was my cuddling partner, the little guy who looked at me like I could do no wrong, and the little person who was trying to prove to his daddy every day that he loved me more than Miami did. He was such a calm, sweet baby. He only cried when he was hungry or wet. I took him everywhere with me and never had to worry about him crying up a storm while we were out in public.
“I got it, baby. What you going to get lil’ man? You want to take my position as a man, so what you going to carry?” Miami asked, getting all in our son’s face.
Little Miami cracked up as he tried to jump his little body up and down in my arms as I held onto him.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You can’t carry nothing. You lucky you cute,” Miami called out right before he kissed our son.
I held onto the baby in one arm while I held the flowers in the other. It was Vonte’s birthday, and like the past two birthdays, I made it my duty to come and see him. This time, bringing his little brother with me. As good as things were going in my life, my heart would always be heavy when I was forced to come down here and see my baby.
The weather was cloudy today, pretty much fitting my mood. We made it to my baby’s tombstone, and I bent down with my son in my arms and placed his flowers in the flowerpot. Miami had laid the blanket out for me, and I took a seat on it with little Miami on my lap.
“Say hi to your big brother,” I told my son as I picked his little hand up and waved.
He was getting sleepy, so all he did was lay his head on my chest. I massaged his curls, and I smiled, looking down at my other baby, Vonte.
“Mommy misses you, Vonte. I picture every day how it would have been if the two of you had met. I could see him running behind you, wanting to be just like you. He would have loved you, and you would have loved him just as much,” I said with my voice cracking.
&nbs
p; The tears fell like I knew they would, but that was fine. It was normal. What mother wouldn’t cry, coming out here and having to talk with her son under these circumstances? I stopped talking because the more I said, the more emotional I became. Like always, Miami never rushed me. He never asked me if I was ready to go or anything. He was my support while we were out there. His hands on my back, rubbing it and letting me have my moment with my baby.
Our son had fallen asleep, and that still wasn’t enough for me to get up and leave. Prior to today, life had been filled with happiness. I can’t even remember the last time I cried. Life was good, and our marriage was good. I was a full-time mother to Maya and little Miami. When Taniya came over, I was a full-time stepmother to her as well.
Trip’s mother tried to reach out months ago to apologize and take Maya back, but I had her. I made a promise to myself and Maya that I had her, and I was keeping good on that promise. She would spend time with Trip’s mother on the weekends, and I was aware of her spending time with her father last weekend too. I was fine with those things, as long as her grandmother was the one who was taking her to see him because I wasn’t. That chapter was closed. Trip and I were a thing of the past.
It had been over a year since he and I had any conversation with each other, and I was fine with that. Maya was still in therapy after having to witness her mother’s murder, but she was better now, way better. They ended up giving Krystal’s cousin a life sentence behind that murder. The whole situation was sad, even down to the cousin having to go to prison and leave behind her two children. We were doing everything in our power to get Maya’s mind off what happened that day, and so far, it had been working. Therapy was working, she’s doing well in school, and the speech therapy that she’d been taking had been paying off as well because her communication skills were improving. Right now, she was at the grocery store with my grandma, and as soon as we left here, I was going to pick her up.
“We can go now, baby. We don’t have to sit out here any longer. He knows I love him. He’s fine. I know he is,” I said to Miami and handed him the baby, so I could stand up.
I wiped the rest of the tears, and I was fine. I knew that my son was fine. When Miami stood, he placed our son over his shoulder and pulled me into him, kissing me on my forehead. We stayed hugged up with each other as a little family, me being the one who wasn’t ready to let go. Vonte was holding onto me too, letting me know that not only did Miami have me for life, but he had me too.
The end
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Down With the King of the South 4 Page 17