Page 71 of Honey's Special Roux

I leaned back and lit my blunt. I sat in the backyard of my folks’ house, with my blunt and the stars to keep me company.

“I got a kid,” I blurted out.

“Marq, you been out a day. How the fuck you got a baby on the way already?” Mouse asked with a chuckle.

“No, dummy. I got a six-year-old kid. Honey had my son while I was locked up.”

“Damn…” TK shook his head in disbelief.

“What are you gon’ do?” Mouse asked.

“I don’t know. I was so frustrated, I went and fucked my coworker. During the sex, I called her Honey… Now she thinks she got a cute nickname and shit.”

The call went silent for a few seconds before a harmony of laughter filled the air. I took a long pull from my blunt, letting the high-grade weed fill my lungs. I exhaled and glared at my friends, who were still cracking up at my situation.

“Are y’all done?” I asked with tight lips.

“You can’t make shit up like that. This nigga Marq always in some shit.” Mouse wiped a stray tear from the corner of his eye as the laughter finally died down.

“This shit is not funny.” I blew smoke from my nose and placed the roach of my blunt in the ashtray. I rubbed my hands down my face and let out a frustrated breath.

“It is funny, and you know you’d be laughing at one of us, too, if we were in the situation. Look, you know we’ve always kept it real with you.” TK chuckled.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Stop fuckin’ your coworker if you want to make shit right with Honey. The last thing you need is a ho making shit more complicated than it already is,” Mouse commented.

“You’re not wrong.”

I closed my eyes and exhaled a deep breath.

“Keep yo’ head up. It’ll all work out in your favor. Just keep yo’ dick away from that ho.” TK coughed to hide his amusement.

“Man, whatever. Y’all be safe.”

I hung up the phone and groaned. I already had so much shit on my plate and added another potential obstacle that could keep me from my happily ever after with Honey.

Get your shit together, Marquise.

“The food was delicious,”Miss Martia stated as she met me in the kitchen.

“Thanks. I used all of Granny’s favorite recipes.” I unfolded another foil pan to take outside. I assumed the conversation was over, but Miss Martia followed me outside.

“I’m so sorry for your loss. Miss Janie was a light in this community. She always extended a helping hand. I remember when my husband lost his job a few years ago. Miss Janie sent over two pans worth of food to feed my family for a week. It was such a blessing—she was such a blessing.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and offered a forced smile. “Thank you.” I set the pan on the warmer and mixed the macaroni. As soon as guests saw the fresh pan of the cheesy goodness, they stood up to get another plate.

I’d cooked in the kitchen for almost sixteen hours yesterday. I didn’t want anyone else to touch the food for Granny Janie’s repast. So far, everyone who had come by had raved about the delicious food. Unfortunately, they alsoallhad to share personal anecdotes about my grandmother. It was sweet but overwhelming.

I went back into the kitchen and threw away the empty foil pans. Once the kitchen was straightened up again, I leaned against the counter and took a deep breath. The constant movement was the perfect distraction from the grief that held my heart in a chokehold.

“Hey, I was wondering where you dipped off to,” Jenifer’s voice spoke in my direction. I offered a thin-lipped smile before I hugged myself.

“Hey.”

“If you need a break, I can watch Quis.”

I shook my head. “I like the constant busy schedule.”

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