Cuffed by a Miami Street King by Timkeia

Author:Timkeia [Timkeia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-07-30T04:00:00+00:00

Wifey: Take care

Take care. Take care was all she had to say. After I tucked my daughter into bed and gave her a kiss, I typed Nadia’s address into my GPS and hit the road.

Chapter 8

Pressure

“Boy, you know just when to show yo’ ass up, don’t you?” My pops chuckled as he slid aside to let me in the house.

“Damn right. You know mama’s a beast in the kitchen and I ain’t missing no meals.” I laughed rubbing my rumbling belly as I headed toward the kitchen. I was so fucking hungry.

The enticing familiar smell of pot roast slapped me in the face as soon as I stepped foot in the kitchen. My mouth watered in anticipation of tasting one of my favorite dishes cooked by none other than the best. Knowing how my mama got down, she’d added the most flavorful herbs and seasonings making that shit delicious. My grams taught her everything she knew about cooking, and she didn’t miss a beat. She always made sure she cooked enough for me too, in case I stopped by. If I wasn’t eating out, then I was grubbing on my mama’s southern home cooking.

“Damn, this shit looks good!” I expressed, lifting the foil on the dish that sat in the center of the dining table filled with sweet potato soufflé.

“Boy, don’t be touching shit and you ain’t washed your damn hands.” She fussed, hitting me on the shoulder with the oven mitt.

“My fault, pretty lady,” I said, walking to the sink to wash my hands. “What’s good with you, mama?” I kissed her on the cheek.

“The usual. Nothing special. I finally got approved for my disability benefits though.”

“That’s what’s up.” My momma had chronic back pain problems caused by her last job working at a plant bending and picking up box’s multiple times a day. She dislocated a disc in her back. Nowadays her only job was to cater to Bogeyman and keep up the house.

I pulled out the usual chair I sat in at the dining table and had a seat. Watching my mama work her magic around the kitchen had me in awe. My momma was the epitome of the type of woman I wanted to spend my life with when the time comes. She was loyal, dependable, smart, and a got damn beautiful woman.

My pops joined me at the table, sitting at the head firing up his cigar. “What’s going on old man?” I asked.

“Nothing son, what’s going on with you?”

“Same ol’, same ol’.” I answered and grasped the Bud Light that he passed to me from the cooler that was sitting on the floor.

I conversed with my parents about any and everything while we waited on the hoecakes to get done. I swear I couldn’t have asked for better fucking parents. Mine were everything!

My old lady was more like my close friend. I could talk to her about anything. She might not agree with all my life choices, but she didn’t judge me nor love me any less.

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