“Look who the cat dragged in,” my father said before wrapping me in a hug.
He was a big man, over six feet and solid as hell. I always felt extra safe in his arms.
“Hey, Daddy,” I said, returning his embrace.
When we released each other, he kissed my forehead and looked me up and down.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because I haven’t seen you in a month of Sundays, and I’m trying to make sure you’re okay.”
“It hasn’t been that long.”
“It sure has,” my mother said as she entered the kitchen.
My parents, Germaine and Sadie Daniels, lived about thirty minutes outside of Black Elm, and I didn’t visit them as often as I used to. We talked daily, but I knew that wasn’t the same. These two were my world, and I never wanted them to feel I neglected them or didn’t want to spend time with them, so I needed to do better.
“Hey, Ma,” I greeted, wrapping her in my arms and kissing her cheek.
My mother was exactly five feet, thick as hell, and my father towered over her. He always talked about how much he loved her extra cushion, and to this day, he could hardly keep his hands off her.
“Hey, Skye. What brings you by?”
“Nothing much. It smells good, though, so I came at the right time. What’d you cook?”
“Nothing special, just barbecue chicken and a corn salad. There’s plenty if you’re staying for dinner,” Ma said.
“You don’t have to ask twice.”
A few minutes later, my parents and I were seated at the kitchen table, catching up. They were both in their early sixties and still working. My father was a bank manager, and my mother was the director of a nursing home. I was an only child, and Stokely was their only grandchild. Since we were bothadults, they didn’t see the point of retiring because they enjoyed their jobs.
“How’s Nyomi and the family? I’m sure she’s still adjusting to marriage and motherhood again,” Ma said.
“They’re doing great, and she’s loving every minute of both.”
“Tell Kilo I’m looking forward to this season. I’m praying for at least a repeat of last season or better. I’ve never seen more exciting football,” my dad said.
“I’m sure that’s their goal,” I responded.
“So, what’s been going on with you?” Ma asked.
“Nothing much. Just working.”
“There’s more to life than working. Are you at least dating?” she pressed.
“I am.”
“Anyone serious?” she continued with the questions.
“Not really, but I’m not looking for anything serious.”
Both of my parents frowned, and my father spoke before my mother could.
“How do you expect to settle down if you’re not looking for anything serious?”
“Who says I want to settle down?”
“You don’t?” Ma questioned.