Page 130 of Own It

My daddy cleared his throat loudly to shut my mama up. He hated Shaun so much he didn’t want him even being mentioned. She caught on quickly, repeating her initial question.

“We met at a party a little while ago and got to talking. She ghosted me for a bit, but when we resumed communication, it was like nothing had changed.” Rakim lied for me.

It was the story I’d told him to tell, and he’d orated it flawlessly. However, I could see how uncomfortable lying made him, and it was bittersweet. I loved that he hated to lie but hated that I was putting him in this position.

“I like that. You know, Day hasn’t always made the best dating choices, but I think this time, she’s gotten it right. In fact, her choices in life, period, are usually questionable, but it seems that’s changing.”

Rakim tittered almost inaudibly as he stared down into his half empty plate. I knew his body language, and he didn’t like my dad’s comment but would let it go, thank God. It was nice having a man with some decorum, because Shaun didn’t have the maturity to allow things to slide out of respect for my father.

“Life choices like what?” Rakim queried, drinking some of his water.

“Like her career,” my mother chimed in. “We’re all doctors; we meaning me, my husband, and Daylin’s siblings. However, Miss Rebel here chose to be a um . . . hell, I don’t even know what you’d call it.”

“A business owner, kind of like me,” Rakim answered for her.

“I mean, yes, but it’s not the same. You own a well-known bread brand, and she has . . . cases.” She snickered into her wineglass.

Rakim tittered again, sniffling some to seemingly calm himself, so I just lightly brushed my fingers along his forearm to give him a reminder to keep his cool.

“I admire Daylin. She’s smart, educated, beautiful, a successful business owner, and she don’t let the next person dictate what she wants to or plans to do with her life. I mean, she making half a million a year selling . . . cases.” He mocked the way my mother had said it, and I could see the shock laced within her expression at my income. “And I think as long as she ain’t constantly borrowing money or making choices that jeopardize her life or her loved ones’ lives, we should be congratulating her.”

“We should,” my father said, looking over at me, just as astonished as my mama at how successful I was.

I never talked with them about my business because they didn’t wanna hear it, so I knew this would be news to them.

As we dug back into our food, I glanced at Rakim who winked at me, causing me to blush. I loved his respectful but classy read.

Afterward, I decided to help my mom clean up while my father opted to have a drink with Rakim.

“Why didn’t you tell us how much you made with that business?” my mother questioned as we washed the dishes.

“Didn’t matter, Ma. And how often do you guys actually listen when I start talking about work? You knew I wasn’t doing too bad since I have my own townhome, drive a luxury car, and never ask for a penny, right?” I hiked my brow.

“Guess I . . . just never thought about it.” She wiped down the glass top electric stove. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Ma.” I refused to look at her as I focused on the task at hand.

“Really. I want to order one.” She got quiet, but I heard her quick-patterned breathing like she was deciding on whether to ask me a certain question or not. “What is the business called?”

“Delicacies. The site is phonedelicacies,” I answered dryly, unsure of why I was so offended that she didn’t know the name. I kind of knew that already.

“Okay,” she stated softly, and we remained silent as we finished tidying up.

Finally, the men were done with their drink and men talk, so Rakim and I left. I was happy to be out of there and wouldn’t be visiting my parents for a good two weeks straight to give myself some recuperation time. They always took a lot out of me.

As Rakim pulled out, I got a text message from my dad.

Dad: I like him. Good job! A real man with a real career this time. <3

The last time he’d said ‘good job’ was when I got accepted into college, but he rescinded it as soon as he found out I was a business major and not going into pre-med.

“He likes you,” I said, caressing Rakim’s hand that rested on my thigh while he used his other to steer the vehicle.

“He aight.” He looked over at me momentarily, smirking. Licking his lips, he added, “I don’t feel right though, baby. I ain’t ever had to pretend in my life. Only reason I did was because I love you, and your reasoning made sense. Can’t say I’d be too open to getting to know a muthafucka who kidnapped my baby. But damn.” He shook his head, clearly distressed.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Don’t be, baby.” He gripped my hand, caressing while staring out at the freeway, pondering. I wish I could syphon his thoughts into mine and figure out exactly what he was thinking. “My fault for falling in love with a woman I kidnapped.”