Chapter 9 Chapter VIII

The next morning, Kingson decided to stay in the house, so he called Delilah and told

her to take the day off. It was about 9a.m. when stir craziness made him throw on some Evisu's and a Fat Albert sweater with a white t-shirt underneath (and a singlet under that). He hadn't worn his Bronny classics in a couple of weeks so he threw those on, and a Yankees fitted cap to complete his getup. A dash of Cool Water and he was out the door. He had to park in a lot but it wasn't too far away. Besides, Spring was in the air and he enjoyed the brief walk.

Kingson had no idea where he was going until he found himself in the Bronx on White Plains Road, the aboveground trains a consistent background rumble to the classic R&B permeating the truck. He turned into a side street and shortly thereafter parked in front of one of the few well kept and huge townhouses in the area. He didn't see Mia's SUV around. Getting out of the truck, he made his way to the front gate of the large townhouse. A pair of hulking pitbulls, a merle and a red nose, came lumbering toward

the gate. Opening the three meter tall gate and closing it quickly behind him he turned to face these miniature hulk dogs.

"Sit," he commanded. They instantly sat erect. He walked around them, visually inspecting their physiques - they looked healthy and well cared for. "Down," he sharply commanded. They lay down but in a state of readiness to bounce back up in a heartbeat.

"I see King and Gal still remember you," a throaty, sensual and familiar voice spoke from above. Kingson looked up into the ravishing personage of Ms. Halcyon, Mia's mother. She was a statuesque and regal high-yellow beauty - what they called a "yellowbone" or "redbone" in street jargon (though her complexion was decidedly golden). He smiled and she smiled back. "I'll be right down, baby," she said, closing the window. Kingson went to the dogs and physically examined them, giving most welcome massage rubs and heavy pats while having to endure the almost unrestrained excited nips and licks of the large puppies.

The heavy wooden front door glided open and the dogs immediately tucked their tails and slinked away as Ms. Halcyon descended the half dozen steps to the front yard area. The front gate protected only the front of the house; the other three sides of the house were protected by a stone wall. Both wall and fence sported short and long spikes atop their even heights. There was a tap on the side of the house and Kingson went to wash his hands, the dogs watching him and the matriarch from not too far away.

Mrs. Halcyon was forty-eight years old and still stunning. She resembled Rolanda from

the Kountry Wayne YouTube channel, only taller and just starting to silver. They hugged and Kingson felt something... intimate in her hug.

Maybe.

He would never dare to take things further because: 1. He was married; and 2. This was his wife's mom for Christ's sake! Still... Her name was Charlotte and she was the widow of a Black Wall Street era banker who had shrewdly, and quietly, invested into real estate in areas in different parts of the Tri-State Area he foresaw would be valuable in the future. His investments had later on made him a multimillionaire and he had kept investing wisely until his death in 2000. He had left behind a fortune and a beautiful younger (and young) wife. She had married at the age of eighteen, urged on by hardworking parents who didn't want their beautiful daughter suffering in life. Almost immediately, she had given birth to Mia, followed every two years by another child, six in all, until some months after the birth of the sixth child, Mr. Desmond Halcyon II gave up the ghost. Charlotte's youngest child, Clinton, was twenty years old and had a two year old daughter. He still lived with his mother in the townhouse, raising his three year old daughter with his baby mama. They both worked during the day and had been saving up to move directly into their own house since their daughter, Cyan, had been born. Kingson was between the ages of Charlotte's second and third children, who had long since moved out but visited often with their families.

"It's so good to see you, King," Ms. Halcyon whispered in his ear, causing a series of tingles to ripple over his spine. She smelled like lavender but he still let her go, slowly; she let go, seemingly reluctantly to. She loosely entwined the crook of his elbow with her hand and they turned to walk up the steps and into the house.

An assortment of children could be seen and heard at almost any point and time running around the house, playing hide and seek, tag or manhunt. The parents of said children would either be at work or doing laundry or cleaning, trying with little success to keep the younger ones from underfoot. Because of COVID-19, most of the children received in-house tutoring and virtual classes. The tutors usually came at 10a.m. and

left at 5p.m. There were three tutors - two for the younger children and one for the high schoolers. Nobody wore masks in Ms. Halcyon's house; she herself refused to wear one even though she knew there was some pathogen in the environment. They went to the kitchen, a monstrous affair wherein some of the older children (who knew and greeted "Uncle Kingson") were making breakfast for themselves, their juniors, cousins and friends. Not a few of the children were from broken homes who just gravitated to Ms. Halcyon's place and after speaking to their troubled parents, were allowed to stay and could visit their parents only or if the parents came to visit their child or children during the week. It was a perfectly agreeable arrangement to "Mama H" (as the children called

her, even her biological grandchildren who were commanded to call her Mama H so that the other, fostered children wouldn't feel segregated). With all the children calling her Mama H, there was a shared and unspoken but felt unityamongst them, even when some would fight or ague with others. They all looked at each other as brothers and sisters with one "Big Mama," Mama H. Outside of the house, few people bullied anyone from Mama H's place - they were family.

In the middle of the kitchen was a square, waist high mica preparation station with all kinds of pans and other large kitchen utensils hanging down from above the table.

There was much space between each side of the preparation table and the square sides of kitchen which had been built maybe to accommodate a small school, with no less than four sinks, five cooking stations and two fridges and a deep freezer. There were also three other doors leading in and out of the kitchen (besides the one they had used to enter), one of which led to a fantastically stocked pantry and larder. Just beyond the pantry and larder was an average size walk-in freezer, not too big, but big enough for the various raw, precut and prepackaged meats and fishes stocked and labeled almost to the ceiling lining its four walls.

"Your kitchen alone is bigger than my living room and kitchen put together," Kingson joked. But it was a factual joke. Ms. Halcyon sniffed in amusement and asked if he'd eaten. "No, ma, but I'll pick something up on my w-"

"Nonsense," Ms. Halcyon interrupted, seemingly scandalized. All the older children in the kitchen looked from Ms. Halcyon to him and back. "You'll eat here and I'm not taking no for an answer." Kingson raised his arms in defeat and laughed. So did some of the older children, although a bit nervously. They knew to stay out of grown folks business, including conversations that, among adults, could go from zero to a hundred real quick.

"I'll eat here, ma, gratefully and gladly," Kingson said, smoothing over any ruffled feathers. Ms. Halcyon threw him an appreciative glance and continued her breakfast preparations. He washungry, and she could make cardboard taste like dessert. A relatively short time later, Kingson and Ms. Halcyon made their way to one of the house's parlors, a smaller affair than the other three, though spacy in its own right. Some of the teenagers escorted them, hands filled with breakfast items on trays which they set and arranged on an oval wood-bordered glass table opposite a small fireplace.

Ms. Halcyon had finessed up a small feast: six scrambled eggs with a mix of mozzarella and American cheese; Pillsbury chocolate-chip-cookie-dough-flavored biscuits; extra large smoked and spiced turkey links; beef rib tips and a carafe of Kingson's favorite hot chocolate. Ms. Halcyon sat near Kingson on a sofa for two, coffee mug in hand. They said grace and Kingson went to serve her. She politely declined, urging him to eat as much as possible. To his surprise and under her watchful gaze, he devouredthe food.

He hadn't realized just how hungry he'd been.

"That," Kingson proclaimed when he was done and lay back in the chair, "was superb. Thank you, ma. That was wonderful."

"Ah, it's nothing," she responded, waving her hand. But it wassomething and she was pleased by the compliment. It wasn't often she got to cook for just one person and that person being so well-mannered. He reminded her so much of Desmond. If only she'd met him before Mia. She took a sip of coffee, watching him from under heavy-lidded eyes as he reposed next to her. The smell of breakfast invaded the parlor, but sitting near her, he discerned the smell of her coffee: Bustello. That was a coffee he would never again drink. The thing had kept him up for three days afterwards!

"So, uh," Kingson began. "Where's Mia?" Something furtive flashed across Ms. Halcyon's face.

"I think she said something about meeting up with some neighborhood friends and hanging out." The lie hung in the air, stillborn as soon as it came out. He dropped his eyes, more embarrassed for her sake. She placed her coffee mug on the adjacent table and moved closer to Kingson, her arm on the the rest behind his neck. She fiddled with his braids and spoke earnestly. "No matter what happens, Kingson, you will alwaysbe welcome in my house." Leaning forward, she softly kissed him. It had been long since he'd felt a woman's touch, a woman's lips. Her tongue poked out and licked the bottom of his upper lips. He was about to press forward when a child's voice outside the door squealed.

"Auntie, Mama H and Uncle Kingson are in the side parlor," yelled the child.

"It shall be well, baby," breathed Ms. Halcyon into his mouth, her breath tasting like coffee and unfulfilled promises. They both stood up but Ms. Halcyon had no sooner sat in an armchair to the side of the couch than the door opened and in walked Mia, a ray of sunshine, the woman who had stolen his heart some years ago.

Mia was statuesque, a remarkable presence, golden skinned and all types of fine. In fitted designer jeans and a tucked V-neck t-shirt that stretched across her ample and firm bosom, there was roundness from the front to the back. She was also in stilettoes and sported smoked sunglasses, both Gucci. Her eyes were barely visible.

Ms. Halcyon's heart throbbed with pride gazing at this extraordinary creature she'd birthed so many years ago. Ms. Halcyon stood. The silence became unsettling.

"Well," ventured Ms. Halcyon, "I have some classes to oversee." She looked from her daughter to Kingson and back again, twice. "I'll see you both later." She glided off

without a word to Mia and left the room but as she turned to close the door, a significant look passed between her and Kingson.

"Where were you, baby?" Kingson asked. "I know you weren't meeting up with your friends and I've been trying to call you but your phone was off."

Mia walked over to the the single armchair her mother had just vacated. Kingson remained standing. She looked at the floor and took a few steadying breaths before she spoke. "I want a divorce." Four words a man never want to hear while he's in what he believes to be a good relationship, let alone marriage.

Kingson sat down, completely numb. Mia kept talking, giving the reasons why a divorce was the best thing for them and it wasn't his fault (unfulfilled,childless). She also stated youdeservebetter,baby. A void in his stomach opened up; worse yet, a hole in his life. Where had he gone wrong? He did everything a husband should, went above and beyond

- a thought had been growing in his mind for some time now and finally decided to expose itself.

"Is there another man?" Kingson asked Mia quietly, interrupting her soliloquy. Her hesitation said it all.

"Please, baby, you have to understand-"

"Understand what, Mia? Understand what? That you're a whore? "How dareyou!" cried Mia, starting to get up.

"How dare you!" he interrupted, also getting up.

They glared at each other, memories of their marital life flashing before their eyes. All

the building, confiding, consoling moments - all of that was crumbling down. Four words was destroying four years of innumerable intimate minutiae, mutual friendships, family ties.

"Please, Kingson, please. I don't wanna hurt anymore," Mia cried out, tears now flowing freely. "I just... I need to be free."

Kingson was shell shocked. He sat back down. A few seconds later, he got back up. Sat back down again, in great emotional pain and confusion. A fiery anger and burgeoning resentment was beginning to pervade his whole being. He looked at Mia.

"You want a divorce?" he asked. She nodded, tears dribbling from under the sunglasses. He closed his eyes momentarily from being dizzy and then opened them, never again to see things the same way. "All right. I'll have someone get in touch with you this week."

He dragged himself out of the house, forgetting even to say goodbye to Ms. Halcyon. The dogs didn't even get a glance on his way out the gate. How he got back home was a mystery he would never remember but when he got in he went straight to the bedroom and collapsed on the bed.