Page 116 of Can't Get Enough

They’re still chatting when my dad walks up beside me. At sixty-two, he appears nearly as fit as he when he played in the league. Still got a few inches on me, and if his abs aren’t as washboard as they used to be, he’s still trim and firm.

“She’s a good one,” Pop says, watching Hendrix laughing with the mom as the little girl scurries around their feet. “Your mama would have liked her.”

My smile is involuntary because Mom would havelovedmy Hendrix.

“You think so?”

“Oh, I can hear Priscilla now,” Pop says, and shifts his voice to a higher register to imitate my mother. “Look at them pretty white teethand it’s about time you brought home a girl with some meat on her bones, Mav.”

“God, that is exactly what she would say.”

“And she would immediately have dragged her in the kitchen and started making her something to eat and talking about her soap operas, even if Hendrix doesn’t watch. She would get an earful about Victor Newman.”

We both crack up laughing because it’s so true, and it feels good to remember Mom without the miasma of grief. Just to recall and celebrate how amazing she was and how rich she made our lives while we had her.

“You only get one like that in a lifetime,” Pop says, the smile lingering on his face. “Like your mama, I mean. Yeah, she would have liked Hendrix a lot.”

“I do too,” I say, watching Hendrix now being recruited to help build a sandcastle.

My father’s deep chuckle forces me to give him my full attention.

“What?” I ask, frowning. “What’s that look for?”

“Like her?” he scoffs. “Come on, son. We both know you more than like her.”

Since it’s useless to deny it, I figure I may as well spill it and get my father’s advice.

“I’ve never felt like this,” I confess, keeping my voice low and one eye on Hendrix in case she wraps up with the mom and kid.

“Like what?” My dad turns to me, powerful arms folded over his chest and one brow piqued.

“Like… when I met LaTanya, I was attracted to her, sure. Liked her a lot and we made Tamia, the most perfect human ever, obviously, but I never told her I loved her.”

“You talked to my grandbaby? Haven’t heard from Tamia in two weeks. Got over to Ghana and acting all grown.”

“Pop, focus, and she’s fine. We texted yesterday. So, like I wassaying, I’ve been in plenty of relationships, the most serious of which, of course, was Zere.”

“How’sshedoing? Does she know about Hendrix yet?”

“Yes, and it did not go well.” I bend to scoop up a shell, tracing its ridges.

“Not surprised,” my father says with a sigh. “That woman loved you. She thought you were the one. I coulda told her it wouldn’t last.”

“Why do you say that?” I frown, though I agree.

“You saw yourself marrying Zere?” Pop asks, genuine surprise etched into his features.

“No, but I wasn’t thinkingWhen is this going to be over?”

“That’s not love.” Pop shakes his head and angles an assessing look at me. “Matter of fact, I think if you had loved Zere, you would have compromised on the baby thing.”

“Nah. I’ve known for a long time I didn’t want another kid. The time and attention and focus youshouldgive a young child, I don’t have that anymore. Fatherhood is not something you half-ass.”

I catch Hendrix’s eye and she gives me a discreetly exasperated look that saysThis woman won’t let me go.

“What if Hendrix said she wanted kids?” Pop asks.

My heart sputters instead of beats. The blood sloshes in my veins and then surges like the waves at my feet. It’s one of those moments where you’re presented with a truly clarifying question; one that delineates priorities you didn’t even know you held.

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