I climbed up as he walked over and we dapped each other as soon as he was close.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked.
“I’m being held in county temporarily for court date I have coming up. What are you doing here? You got locked up?”
“Temporarily.”
“How? I thought you weren’t moving work anymore.”
“I’m not.”
“Then how’d you end up in here?”
“Bar fight.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Bar fight?”
“That’s right.”
“You got bail?”
“It’s in progress. How you holding up, old man?”
“You care now?” he countered.
“Not necessarily but figured I’d ask.”
He snickered and shook his head. “I’m good. I’m real good.”
“You got a boyfriend in here that got shit feeling real good?”
“Bitch, do you?” My dad laughed.
“I mean I’ve got a boyfriend but he ain’t built for jail.”
My dad’s laugh stopped short and mine started. I hit him in the shoulder and he shook his head.
“Well, fuck. I didn’t see that coming.”
“Yeah, well it’s not like you see much from in here.” I shrugged.
“Right.” He held a hand out. “You got a cigarette?”
“Yeah.” I handed him one and he nudged his head toward the table.
We sat together while I lit his cigarette and he took a long drag.
“How’s your brothers?” he asked after a while.
“You don’t talk to them?”
“I talk to Morocco a lot, and uh, I get Xy and Joss sometimes through him but I don’t know the last time I spoke to you or Drake.”
I nodded.
“My brothers are good. Drake was shaky for a little minute but he’s got a little part-time job and he’s about to graduate. We’re going to, uh, get him in a car for his graduation. I don’t know what he wants to do after that but I’m ready to get a third job if he says college. He, uh, he can get grants because he doesn’t have biological parents around and I think I can get him the rest of the way there, even if I need to fundraise or get a loan or some shit. Xy and Joss are doing good. Neither of them niggas good at math though so they’re getting tutored but they don’t complain about it the way Drake used to. So that’s a plus. They’re growing up.”
“I’m proud of them.”