“I don’t know what you talkin’ about, Pops,” Papa John quickly denied.
“What are you doing out there? Are you a fuckin’ criminal, John? Huh? Tell me this some bullshit I’m hearing about you.”
“It is! I have a legit job.”
“Where? Doing what?”
Papa John needed to think fast. “At McDonald’s.”
“McDonald’s,” Darryl repeated, looking dubiously at his son. He thought his son lived off women. “You know I’m a detective, boy. If you’re lying to me, my son or not, I’ll lock you up so fast, your head will spin.”
Both men locked eyes with each other. Papa John didn’t flinch. He was sticking to his story.
His father released his stronghold and backed away a little.
“I’m good, Pops, believe. I’m no criminal.”
“Why are you here?”
Papa John had to swallow his pride and ask for his help. It had been two years since he’d moved out of his father’s house and been on his own. He took a deep breath, continued looking at his father, and said, “I just need a place to stay for a short moment.”
“Why?”
“I got a lot going on.”
“A lot going on like what, John? You’re gonna have to fuckin’ elaborate a lot more for me to even consider opening my home to you.”
Papa John sighed and finally relented to his pain, saying to his father, “One of my sons was diagnosed with autism.” There, he’d finally told his father.
Hearing about his grandson’s diagnosis changed Darryl’s demeanor. Though he rarely saw any of his grandchildren, it didn’t mean he loved them less. Darryl said, “If you need to talk, I’m standing right here.”
Papa John put on a show for his father—emotions, tears, and pain. It was the first time anyone ever saw him cry.
Darryl showed empathy and invited his son into his home.
Papa John felt confident that his criminal life wasn’t going to catch up to him. Though his father was a seasoned detective, he felt he was the wiser. Beside
s, he’d just fucked his father’s bitch in their bedroom and seemed to have gotten away with it.
For a long time, Papa John had been getting away with murder, and with a place to lay his head, at the home of an NYPD officer no less, he felt almost invincible.
Twenty-Four
Nana, AKA Rhonda, took a pull from her Newport 100, moving on the dance floor like she was in her early twenties. With a cigarette in one hand and a cup of corn whiskey in the other, she moved to Al Green’s “Let’s Stay Together” cheerfully. It was one of her favorite songs. She twirled and glided with her old-school generation of friends, and they sang along to the song that had Blue’s lounge full of life with fun, laughter, drinking, and dancing.
Nana looked good in a red-and-black sexy dress, her hair flowing and jewelry showing. She threw back the corn whiskey like it was water and continued to smoke while dancing the night away. She was definitely the center of attention and a regular at the lounge. They knew her name, her drink, and her choice of men.
Soon, Nana started to dance intimately close to a younger fellow stylishly dressed in a black suit and a garish red tie, with a dark, trimmed beard and bald head. His eyes were dark, his smile mischievous, and his demeanor shady. He was handsome to the aging woman. They wrapped their arms around each other and started to bump and grind on the dance floor, thrusting and protruding their bodies in some dirty dancing. She was familiar with the man, who wasn’t shy feeling on her booty and kissing the side of her neck. They laughed and played together like school kids. He whirled her around a few times on the floor and then spun her around like she was thirty-something. Nana was having the time of her life with him.
When the song ended, Nana looked winded. She joked, “Ooh, chile, you about to give this old lady a heart attack with all that jiving against me.”
He laughed. “Old lady where? There ain’t no finer, younger, prettier thing in this place than you.”
She blushed. His compliments were inflating her ego. She smiled widely.
His hands groped her body publicly, no shame in his game. “C’mere and let me give my woman a kiss,” he said.
Nana shoved her tongue down his throat and French-kissed him like there was no tomorrow. When it came to showing each other public affection, neither one of them was shy at doing it.