Concrete Rose (The Hate U Give, #0)(11)

I crack up. Pops swear he a better cook than Ma. He is, honestly. His biscuits so legendary, I dream of them mugs. “Nothing this morning. You a’ight? What you doing calling this early?”

“I’m fine. Got some calling time and decided to take advantage of it. Is Faye there?”

“Nah, she just left for work,” I say.

“Damn, I should’ve known. How she doing? She not working too much, is she?”

“She all right. You know she off on weekends now. Moe convinced her to take them off.”

“Moe.” The way Pops say her name kinda throw me off. They never met. Ma and Moe ain’t become friends till a year or two after he went away. “Guess I’m glad somebody convinced her to take time off,” he says. “Anyway, how you doing? What was you up to this weekend?”

Last time we talked I was waiting on the DNA test results. I told Pops the baby wasn’t mine, and he took my word like he always do. Now I gotta tell him he a grandfather.

“Umm . . .” It’s real hard to speak all of a sudden. “I was taking care of my son.”

The phone get extra quiet. The call ain’t dropped—there’s voices in the background.

“Damn,” Pops says. “Well, it is what it is. How you handling it?”

I rub my eyes. I ain’t sure if they burning ’cause they tired or I’m relieved Pops ain’t coming down on me. That ain’t really his style no way. Whenever Ma is pissed, I can always count on Pops to hear me out.

“I don’t know how I’m handling it,” I admit. “He cry all the time, barely sleep, always need a diaper change or a bottle. It’s a lot, Pops. I’m ready to crack after one weekend.”

“Oh yeah. I remember them days. He pissed in your face yet?”

“Maaan,” I groan as Pops laugh. “A couple of times.”

“Good. It’s payback for all them times you pissed in my face. You’ll be okay, Mav Man. You gotta find your groove. Don’t get me wrong, it won’t be easy. Everybody gon’ have an opinion ’bout how you do things. What I always tell you? Living your life based off what other people think—”

“Ain’t living at all,” I finish.

“You damn straight. Let ’em talk. Long as you take care of yours, that’s all that matters, you feel me?”

“I feel you.”

“Damn. A grandson,” he says, in awe. “What’s his name?”

“Iesha named him King since she thought that was his daddy.”

“Aw nah, man. You gotta change it,” Pops says. “Zeke named King that in honor of the set. I got nothing against it or your homeboy, but your son oughta have something of his own. A name with purpose. I was real mindful when I named you. Maverick Malcolm Carter.”

Maverick mean “independent thinker.” Malcolm come from Malcolm X. Guess Pops wanted me to be a leader from jump.

“Don’t throw something on your son,” Pops go on. “Give him a name that tells him who he is and who he can be. The world’s gon’ try to do that enough.”

Dang, I’ll have to think it out. “Yeah, a’ight.”

“Man. If I was home, I’d be the freshest granddaddy you ever saw. Have my little buddy riding around in the drop-top. Make sure you put him onto the Lakers ASAP.”

Pops a fool for the Lakers. He worshipped Magic and Kareem back in the day. He made sure I was a fan. “Fa’sho. I’m gon’ get him a jersey soon.”

“That’s what I’m talking ’bout. They got something special in the making, I can feel it,” he says. “That boy Kobe gon’ be a force. Mark my words.”

For a moment, we just father and son, talking basketball. Pops don’t feel a world away. “You think we’ll get a championship?”

“A couple of championships,” Pops says. “Kobe and Shaq gon’ ball out, no doubt. How things around the Garden?”

“It’s real calm lately. No turf wars or nothing,” I say. “The Garden Disciples ain’t tripping.”

“Good. Shawn, Dre, and them looking out for you?”

I guess that’s what Dre call that stunt he pulled. “Yeah. Sometimes they do it too much.”

“No such thing. Be glad somebody got your back. You may not always be so lucky.”

I got a feeling Dre gon’ always be a pain in my ass.

“Well, look, man, my time’s up,” Pops says. “Make sure you tell Faye I came down real hard on you regarding this baby business, a’ight?”

I laugh. She gon’ know I’m lying. “Yeah, a’ight. We’ll see you soon.”

“Looking forward to it,” he says, and I can hear his smile. “Love you, Mav Man.”

“Love you too, Pops.”

I hang up, and my pops is a world away again.

The doorbell ring. I hop up real fast ’cause I don’t want it to wake up Li’l Man. I peek out the front window first like Ma do. It’s King.

I greet him with a palm slap. “Damn, man. Didn’t expect you to roll through.”

He slide in past me. “Phone call’s a waste of time. I was around the corner with a customer and figured I’d stop by. What’s up?”