Page 89 of Falling Into Gravity

French arched a brow. “Oh, so now he got a name?”

Aku bit her lip.

“You let a nigga named Malik put hickeys on your neck?” he deadpanned.

She smacked his shoulder and broke into laughter, her joy echoing through the car. The city passed them in a blur—green trees, expensive houses that housed rich black people. Emerald City was the Black mecca and a world away from Crescent Park.

But in the car, in that soft bubble of basslines, breeze, and banter—Aku was just a little girl again. A daddy’s girl, full of love, forever safe in the arms of the first man who ever showed her what loyalty looked like.

French pulled into the driveway of their family home—a mansion big in space and love. Aku’s heart swelled already knowing she would leave Emerald City full of love.

French cut the engine, and left the music on low, the silence between them warm and intentional. “You good, baby girl?” Helooked at her in a way only a father could—all knowing and seeing through everything.

“Yea,” she nodded. “Even better now.”

He leaned back, studying her like he could see everything she was holding in and carrying around. “You know…your mama told me I should give you space, let you figure life out on your own.”

Aku tilted her head. “You…disagree?”

He grinned. “Hell yea, I disagree. You mine. I don’t care if you forty with three kids and a husband. You always gon’ be mine and it’s my job to help you figure things out when you can’t.”

She swallowed something thick in her throat and reached for his hand again. “I love you, Daddy.”

He kissed the back of her hand, rough lips pressing soft hands. “I know. But I still might beat Malik ass.”

He remembered the name she slipped up and shared.

Aku gave him a crooked smile and nodded, knowing he would make good on his promise.

As soon as Aku stepped through the door, the sound of a show she didn’t recognize blasted from the living room TV, and voices bounced off the high ceilings.

“Akuuuu!” Solar’s voice flew in from the kitchen before her arms did. “My baby’s home!”

Aku barely got her bag set down before her Mama wrapped her in a grip so tight it made her ribs fold in.

Solar smelled like honeycomb and pressing comb heat—her usual scent that hugged tighter than the perfumes in Aku’s suitcase. Hair laid like always, lashes still on like she just leftsomebody’s red carpet, and diamond studs catching the light from the kitchen chandelier.

“I swear, you be actin’ brand new like you too famous to come home,” Solar said, kissing her cheek twice before pulling back to study her. “Let me see you. Turn around.”

Aku twirled half-heartedly, rolling her eyes. “Mama, I ain’t no damn Barbie.”

“Don’t lie,” Solar clapped back. “You was always my Black Barbie. Just mad you ain’t patent it first.”

Before Aku could respond, two heavy-ass bodies came crashing down the stairs.

“Ahhhhhh! Big Sis done landed!” Frenchy, sixteen and full of mouth, ran up with his arms out, socks sliding on the tile like he wanted to bowl her over.

Aku opened her arms wide and braced herself. “Here go my annoying ass child.”

Frenchy crashed into her, squeezing her like he hadn’t just texted her yesterday for gas money. He smelled just like their daddy, looked like him too.

“Yo, you getting thicker in the thighs,” he mumbled, stepping back. “I’on like that.” His face bawled.

“Say that again and I’m putting you in a headlock,” Aku warned, twisting his ear just because she could.

Frenchy yelled, “Apollo! Come get yo’ little sister!”

Aku laughed. They liked to joke that Apollo was the oldest because he was so tall with grown man facial hair.

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