Page 6 of Solomon’s Temple

“Why you always ready to turn up, Tink?”

“Because them busted bitches be hating on you tough, and you never check they ass.”

“I don’t care about they eye rolls and stank faces. They never say shit to me, so I don’t pay them hoes no mind.”

“Well, I’on like that shit, so I’m gon’ speak on it.”

I shook my head and stood. “I’ll talk to you later, toots. Don’t hurt nobody in here tonight.”

“I’ma try not to. Get them bands, sexy!” She called after me. I laughed and prepared myself to get on this stage and shake my ass. As much as I hated dancing, I couldn’t deny the money at the end of the night always gave me motivation and put me a few steps closer to getting my grandma the help she needed.

Friday

I pulled up to the Northwest Care Center the next morning and parked next to my parents' minivan. I felt bad after their visit, so I decided to come help them with the fundraiser and apologize for the way I treated and spoke to my moms. I knew they wanted grandchildren out of me, but they had to change their ways before any of that could happen. All that passing judgment and being in my business had to cease. I loved my people and wanted to give them what they wanted, but until they got right, I wouldn’t go searching for my bride yet.

I stepped out of my Ram pickup truck and headed toward the lot where a mini carnival was set up. Adults meandered about, setting up everything while cars waited outside the gate.

I looked around and found my parents hanging the stuffed animals for one of the carnival games and made my way over to them.

“’Sup, family?” I greeted them. My pops smiled and pulled me in for a hug.

“How you doing, Son?” he asked.

“I’m blessed, Pop. How you?”

“Same.”

My moms eyes came up to me. “You came,” she stated.

I nodded. “I did. I also want to apologize to you both for how I acted the other day. I’m still on this walk to becoming a better version of myself, so bear with me. I was wrong and could have handled my emotions better, so please accept my apology. I should have never said what I said to you,” I told them. Urina smiled softly, then came from behind the makeshift counter and wrapped her arms around me. She kissed my cheek, then released me.

“And I apologize for my assumptions and butting into your personal life. You know that we love you and just want the best for you. We forgive you, and we hope you forgive us for being intrusive.”

I nodded. “I do.”

“Good. Now that you’re here, come help us finish setting up,” my pops said, handing me a box of stuffed animals.

“What’s the fundraiser for?” I asked.

“Autism Awareness. To gain funding for different resources and open up more centers for children and adults in need,” moms replied.

“That’s what’s up. Will there be food?” I asked. I was hungry since I skipped breakfast this morning.

“Yes. The food trucks should be here soon,” my mom replied.

“Cool.” I moved around the counter to help them set up. I commended Principals Of Faith Baptist Church for putting this fundraiser together for people with special needs. The state of Michigan lacked resources because of funding. Although I hadn’t been to church in a month of Sundays, I still paid my tithes and tuned in to the live streams on Sundays. Since my company was a 24-7 job, I made sure I carved out my Sunday morning to get the word before I started my day.

An hour later, the food trucks were geared up, and the gates opened to the public. I watched as women, men, and children all filed in with smiles on their faces, which prompted my own to appear.

The sun was shining as I lifted my head to thank God and appreciate seeing another day.

“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Solomon Matthews,” a deep voice said from my left. I turned my head to see Pastor Daniels approaching me. I smiled lightly as I stood to shake his hand.

“Pastor Daniels. It’s good to see you.”

“Great to see you too, son. We see more of your money than we see you.” He chuckled.

“I know. My company keeps me busy, but I tune in every Sunday to get a good word.”