Page 107 of Promised To A Menace

“Okay, baby mama, I will.” I laughed.

She turned around and rolled her eyes at me.

“You should be used to me calling you that by now, ma.”

She didn’t say nothing else. She just gave me another look before looking back to whatever she was doing in the refrigerator.

“Aight ma,” I said, laughing as I headed toward the door. “Tell my mother-in-law I said what’s up.”

Once again, she ain’t say shit. She looked over at me, and I couldn’t help but laugh. I knew I was getting on her damn nerves, but fucking with shorty was becoming one of my favorite things to do.

When I got outside to my truck, I hit the alarm and hopped inside. I really didn't feel like going over my folks' house, but I also knew if I didn't show up, I wasn't going to hear the end of that shit. My mama was going to make damn sure I knew she felt some type of way about me not coming over.

I headed toward my parents' side of town, which wasn't too far from where I stayed. They lived out in Maddox Hills, so all I had to do was hit the highway, and I'd be there in no time. Their shit was a whole lot more luxurious than mine, and that was saying something because my house wasn't no little-ass house either.

When I finally pulled up to their spot, I parked my truck, hopped out, and hit the alarm before heading inside. Soon as I stepped through the door, I could smell whatever my mama had going on in the kitchen.

One thing about my mama, she could cook her ass off when she wanted to. Yeah, she was Italian, but that lady could throw down on some soul food. She always said my daddy's mama was the one who taught her how to cook it before she passed away, and whoever taught her damn sure knew what they were doing.

“Cassian, baby, is that you?” my mama called out from the kitchen.

“Yeah, Mama, it's me.”

“Good. Come in here and taste something for me.”

I laughed to myself because that was one of my favorite parts about coming over whenever my mama cooked. She always had something she wanted me to taste, and I damn sure wasn't about to turn down no free food.

When I walked into the kitchen, I saw that she had been cooking her ass off. She had so much damn food sitting around that I didn't know where the hell she planned on putting all of it. I didn't understand why she'd cooked so much when it was just her and my pops, but then again, some of his people were always stopping by to get a plate whenever they knew my mama was cooking.

“Here, try this.” She held a fork up toward me.

I looked down at the piece of chicken she had on it. “What is this?”

“Something I came up with.”

“Something you came up with?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow at her.

“Yes, Cassian. Now, boy, open your mouth and try it.”

Before I could say anything else, she had already stuffed the chicken in my mouth.

I'm not gone lie, whatever the hell she had made tasted good as fuck. The chicken was tender, and the sauce had a little sweetness to it, but it also had a kick that hit right after. I chewed it up before looking back at her.

“Mama, what the fuck is this?” I asked, reaching for another piece.

“Cassian, watch your mouth.”

“My bad, Ma. But for real, what you put on this shit?”

She laughed before pointing toward the pan sitting on the stove.

“It's Cajun honey-butter chicken. I seasoned the chicken with some garlic, onion powder, smoked paprika, Cajun seasoning, and a little cayenne pepper. Then I cooked it in some butter and made a sauce with honey, fresh garlic, lemon juice, and a little hot sauce. I let everything simmer together until the sauce got nice and thick.”

I reached for another piece, but she popped my hand.

“Boy, get out of that pan!”

“Damn, Ma! I'm just trying to make sure the shit good.”