Page 35 of Until Forever

I can hearthe yelling before I make it to the door. Sounds that quiet the moment I knock. But then they start again. First, it’s Latoya I hear, then my son. It’s been a month since we told him I was his father, and nearly every afternoon I’d stop by to spend time with him until he goes to bed, except for the times she’s working doubles and sends him to his grandparents’.

Today is the start of one of those times. That and the fact I woke up this morning with the urge to see them both. As I wait for Latoya to answer, I gaze around, taking in the rows of single-family homes. I’m from this town, but I can’t recall ever stepping foot on this block. We’re a small society, but like every other place, we have the middle-class side and the less fortunate area. Aside from visiting my girl and attending school which sits smack in the middle of town, I never crossed the track.

It’s a quiet neighborhood, and I can only imagine it’s the same at night. Her SUV sits in the driveway, and JJ’s bike is laid out in the yard. I hear the door unlatch and stare down at my shoes patiently.

“JJ. I’m serious. We don’t have time for this. Put on your belt and let’s go,” she orders while opening the door, her head pointed toward the hall.

He stomps, the sound slightly muffled by the distance. “I don’t want to go.”

“Hi, Jas.” She frowns, but I know it has nothing to do with me. “You are going, and Maw Maw will drop you off as always,” she adds and faces me. “Come in.”

I follow her inside, closing the door behind me. JJ is still grunting and throwing a tantrum. Latoya shakes her head and enters her kitchen to fill a tumbler with coffee, creamer, and sugar.

“What’s going on?” I lean against the entryway of her kitchen.

She sighs then opens the fridge to retrieve JJ’s lunch box. “He’s being difficult. I don’t have time for this, we’re late enough as it is. And if he keeps it up,” she says loud, and I know she means for him to hear, “we’re going to be homeless because I’m going to lose my job.”

“I’m not going,” he blurts, then mutters something.

She storms forward, shoving her drink into my chest. I grip it, slightly confused as she moves past me. Standing in the center of the hall, she places her hands along the wall.

“You have three seconds to get your butt in this living room. We need to go. I don’t know why you don’t want to go to your grandparents’ all of a sudden, but we don’t have the luxury of you changing plans because you’re in a mood. So let’s go.”

I watch closely, kind of admiring her strength. Bringing her drink to my lips, I swallow a mouthful, watching with my brows raised. She inches farther into the hall, but he exits his room before she reaches it.

When they make it back to the front of the house, she rests her palms on his shoulders. They continue to bicker as JJ gathers his things. I chuckle to myself, finding it funny that he’s angry for whatever reason, but knows enough to keep getting ready.

“What’s he mad about?”

“I don’t know. But we’re late. I have to drop him off at school and get to work, and he wants to debate with me like he pays the bills.” She reenters the kitchen, grabbing his lunch and another bag for herself. “What are you doing here?”

I chuckle at JJ who is now sitting in the chair closest to the front door. “I just wanted to stop by before school. I know he’s going to be with your mom and dad while you work for the next three days, so I just wanted to see him before that. But if you need to get to work, I can drop him off. That way you don’t need to be any later than you already are.”

She’s in the living room now, pulling her purse up on her shoulder. “You’re not taking my son on that bike.”

“I bought a vehicle, he’ll be safe.”

“Please, Mom, let him take me,” JJ pleads.

Latoya peeks out the window, taking in my brand-new ride. “A minivan, Jasper.”

I shrug. “They said it was the safest thing.”

She chuckles. “You realize we have one kid, right?”

“Listen, it was either that or the Softail,” I point out with raised brows.

“It was the cheapest thing they had,” she says, then presses her lips tightly together.

“You don’t know me,” I joke.

Latoya laughs. “You don’t have to do that,” she adds after a beat.

“It’s not a matter of having to, it’s what I want to do.”

“Please, Mom, can Dad take me?”

I freeze when he calls me dad. We’ve hung out plenty in the last month, but this is the first time he’s referred to me that way. Latoya and I glance at each other, both similarly surprised.

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