Page 52 of Honey's Special Roux

“Fa sho. Pull up. It’ll be good to see you, dawg.”

“Say no more.”

We ended the call shortly after. Dayari had turned up the music once my call was over. I sat back and looked out the window, praying I never had to come back to the prison ever again.

* * *

“Marq!” Mouse greeted me with open arms as I hopped out of the car and pulled him into a dap and side hug combination.

“My boy getting fat,” I joked as I patted his stomach.

“Life.”

“What’s been going on?” I asked as I crossed my arms over my chest and looked out at the neighborhood he lived in. It was a wealthy-looking area, with SUVs and kids running around. He’d come a long way from the apartment on the Southside he’d been in before I got locked up.

“Shit. After the shit went down with you, me and TK figured it was time to do other shit. We both got jumped out together, made it easier to go up against them niggas too. Once we’d washed our hands of Merlot, I went legit by working a warehouse job. I started from the bottom and moved up to the manager’s position. The pay isn’t tens of thousands a week, but it keeps the bills paid and my family safe.”

“Family?”

As if the kids could hear us, two little girls ran out of the front door.

“Daddy!”

“Daddy!”

They both called out as they sprinted their little legs to the target of their attention. My eyes widened.

“You got kids?” I asked the dumb question.

Mouse nodded. “Yeah, two and one on the way.”

He kneeled to their height and asked them what was wrong.

“Can we have snacks, peas!” the older of the two asked. She couldn’t have been over four or five years old. They must have been the reason he went legit. The same reason as me—to protect a family from the streets.

“Your mama didn’t get you a snack?”

“Mommy seep,” the other little one answered.

“Hold on, Marq. Let me go get them a snack.”

“Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to see one of my day ones face-to-face. We need to keep moving, anyway. I’ll get with you.”

“Fa sho.”

We dapped each other up before I got back in Dayari’s car. Mouse ushered his two little ones back into the house as we turned around to head out of the neighborhood. I expected most of the folks I used to chop it up with were on the same tip as Mouse.

My mind wandered. How was Honey? I’d stop getting updates from my cousin, so I was completely in the dark about what she’d been up to the last six years. Was it too late to hit her up? Would she be open to spinning the block?

“What’s on your mind?” Dayari asked.

“Honey.”

She continued to drive. Her hands adjusted on the steering wheel as if she wanted to say something but held her tongue instead.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

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