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I’ve been coming down here to see my pops since he’s been here, so I knew the route to take to make it over to the check in area. There were a few people standing in front of me, but the line moved fast. Before I knew it, I was handed a badge to place on my shirt, and I walked over to the elevators, taking it up to the 4th floor, where my pops was.

They moved him a couple of days ago, so now he was in the PACU. Before he was in PACU, they had him in the trauma bay area. She shot this nigga five fuckin times. If Demarco didn’t get to her when he did, I’m feeling like she would have killed this nigga.

Two bullets hit him in one leg. Another bullet got him on the other leg, and the last two went in each of his arms. Even with all the shots that he sustained, none of them hit any major arteries. He still had to have surgery. A couple of the bullets in his legs lodged in different places, so he had to undergo surgery to get it removed. That nigga woke up from surgery mad as fuck. He lived a glamorous life and wasn’t used to staying overnight in a twin-sized bed at a hospital. You could only imagine the way that he’s been in this bitch cutting up. Add on the fact that he was sick to his stomach that his wife hadn’t been here to see him. There was no telling the kind of mood he was going to be in today, but here I was, walking in.

As I walked in, I noticed one of the nurses tending to him. He was sitting up in bed, flashing all 32 of his teeth at her, telling her things that wasn’t loud enough for me to hear. She stood her ass there, blushing at his words, but once I made myself visible in the room, all of that came to a halt. The nurse cleared her throat, and she tried to ask my pops if there was anything else that he needed. He assured her that he was good, and then she walked out of the room. She knew she got caught flirting with this nigga, and that’s why she didn’t have the courage to look me in my eyes and speak to me on her way out.

“You would think that after getting shot the fuck up, that you would be too afraid to flirt with another bitch. You ain’t learn not one lesson, did you? That shit would have scared me straight,” I talked shit the second it was just the two of us in his hospital room.

“Nigga, that wasn’t flirting. That was me running game, trying to boost her head up, so she could put a good word in for me to the doctor. I’m ready to get the fuck out of here. The food is bland as fuck, and I don’t like this medicine that they keep doping me up with. I feel like they trying to kill my ass,” he said, talking crazy.

I just waved his ass off and grabbed the single chair that was a little far away from his bed. I brought it closer to the bed, taking a seat, and looking over at him.

He looked stressed. Even though I walked in here and he was smiling, and talking his shit with the nurse, I was able to see right through it. My pops was fucked up, and I’m sure it was because of where things now stood in his marriage. Then, I’m sure he was depressed being in this hospital. We had the kind of father where we’ve never seen him sick. Never even seen this man catch a cold. He had perfect health. He worked out every day, had a clean, strict diet, and was in the best shape of his life. Seeing him in this hospital was out of the norm for us.

“How is she? What has she been doing” he asked about my mom. Every time I came down here to sit with him, he would always ask about her. He never tried to play tough by not bringing her up.

“Shit, the same. She sit in the room and cry every day. Kendrix came over last night, and snapped on her, telling her that she needed to cut it out. She cursed his ass out, telling him to get out of the room, and a bunch of other crazy stuff. You really fucked her up man. Got her cursing, and shit. Since when we’ve known Emaye to curse?” I asked him, and he shook his head.

The hand that had the IV running through it, he picked it up and ran it down his face.

“I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking leaving my phone out in the open like that. I didn’t realize that I left it in the room until I was already in the shower. Even with that, I thought I was safe because your mom has never gone through my phone. She’s never done no weird shit like that man,” he explained.

“She probably suspected something,” I told him, and he nodded his head, as if he agreed.

For about ten minutes, neither one of us said anything. We had our own thoughts. I had questions though. Questions that I’ve been wanting to ask him since we found out about all this shit, but he’s been in a fucked up mood, so I wasn’t trying to go at it with him.

“Pops, be real. You wasn’t going to ever tell her about your son, and the daughter you have on the way?” I asked the first question. I needed to know the answer to that shit.

“Hell nah I wasn’t going to tell her that. And break her heart? That was one secret I was willing to take with me to the grave,” he told me.

“Who’s the woman?” that was another question that was important for me to ask.

“You don’t know her. She doesn’t even stay down here. She stays in Tampa. Her name is Lydia,” he was being short with his answers, not telling me the full story. I wanted him to just lay everything out on the line for me, but from the looks of things, I was going to have to pull the information out of him.

“If she’s up in Tampa, and you in Miami, how ya’ll even cross paths?” I inquired.

“We met sixteen years ago. You didn’t go with me, but sixteen years ago, there was a business conference here in Miami. Big ass event. All the CEO’s, entrepreneurs, and investors came out. I was on the panel to speak. Her father was a speaker as well. I remember when he got the mic, and he started talking. During his speech, he shined a light on Lydia. That’s his only child, and you could tell that he worshipped the ground that she walked on. I’ve met a lot of beautiful women in my lifetime, but I never met one that came even close to your mother. Lydia came close,” he went on, and then took a pause.

It seemed as if he was thinking about the past events that occurred between the two of them, and where he should go next with the story.

“Her father owns a food distribution company. Just as wealthy as me. It was something that he founded, and Lydia worked for the company. I remember later in the day, she was on a different panel, and just the way she carried herself with so much class, and grace, I was intrigued. I looked for her after the event, so that I could talk to her. She was more beautiful close up. You know, I did the thing where I pretended to be interested in her father’s business, asking all the right questions. She did the same, wanting to know more about my business. Shit, ain’t really much to tell after that. I asked her for her number, she gave it to me, and that’s pretty much it,” he tried to skip over so much shit.

“Nigga, that ain’t pretty much it. That was sixteen years ago. What has all transpired in the last sixteen years? Ya’ll have a teenager. A daughter on the way. Does she know about Emaye, and me, and my brothers?” I wanted to know.

“She knows I’m married and have children. I never lied to her about that. Whenever I fuck around, I’m always transparent with women, telling them that I have a wife I was never leaving, and children. She knew,” he said, and I nodded.

“How your shit never got out in the open though? Most women would have approached the wife and aired out your dirty laundry. Why she never did that? She didn’t care that her son was missing out on a relationship with his four brothers?” I asked.

“And that’s where you got it wrong. When women pull up on the wife, and come at the wife as a woman, most times it’s because they want something. A lot of times, they do that shit out of spite too. Lydia never wanted shit out of me but some dick. She got her own fuckin money. She was brought into wealth, just like you and your brothers. When I met her, she was helping her father run his business, and she was already a millionaire. She had her own crib, multiple cars, and other investments,” he went on, taking a pause for a few seconds before continuing his story.

“It wasn’t like she got pregnant by me, and she was looking at it as her meal ticket. In fact, when she found out she was pregnant, she was ready to get an abortion. I made her keep the baby. I’ve always wanted more children, but after Demarco, and the way the doctor made it seem like your mom could possibly die if she had another one, I just accepted that it was going to be my four boys. She had my son, and we just kept our shit a secret. I never promised her shit. Never promised her that I was going to leave my wife for her, none of that stuff. She don’t hassle me about being over there, spending time with her, and my boy because she’s one hell of a fuckin mother. Anything that I do for her and our son is just extra. She don’t need my ass for shit,” he finished.

That was a lot to take in so for a while, I didn’t say anything else. I just kept quiet.

“Damn. I don’t know what the fuck to say to that. Mama said that your son’s name is Wesley. He looks like Demarco. What is he like?” I asked about him. The question made him smile. That smile told me everything that I needed to know. He loved him in the same manner that he loved me, and my brothers.

“Cool ass lil nigga man. He looks like Demarco, but he reminds me of Wolf though. The exact kid Wolf used to be is the exact kid that Wesley is. Quiet, and super observant. Smart as hell too. This is his freshmen year of high school, but he’s already enrolled at a community college, taking college courses. He plays football, and he’s a beast with that shit. He’s well grounded, and lowkey. I feel like I don’t have much to do with that. His mama, and his grandaddy got him structured like that. Miami is home for me, so I’ve never been someone that was consistent in his life. I popped up when I could,” he said.