Concrete Rose (The Hate U Give, #0)(42)

I’m starting to think being a parent mean you don’t get to have much yourself. All my energy, my money, and my time go to him.

Space Jam at my favorite part. It’s that scene where Mike showing the Looney Tunes that he still the greatest as that “Fly Like an Eagle” joint play in the background. I sit Seven on my stomach. He gotta see this.

“Look, man, that right there? That’s the greatest basketball player of all time, Michael Jordan,” I say. “Six-time NBA champion, five-time MVP. Everybody wanna be like Mike. I’ll buy you some of his shoes soon. Don’t get it twisted, we Lakers fans. We got this guy named Kobe, and I think he gon’ get us some championships.”

Seven coo like, Word? A’ight, it could be gas. I’m gon’ say he saying Word.

He yawn and lay down on me. Naptime creeping up on him. I stay this way a minute. I like listening to him breathe and feeling his chest rise against mine. He don’t know that I’m tired all the time or that I’m technically a kid. He just know that I got him.

When we like this, I ain’t gotta know a whole lot either. I just know that I love him. I kiss his temple so he’ll know it.

The doorbell ring. Seven raise up and look toward the door.

“What? You gon’ answer it?” I tease. I set him in the playpen that I sold my stereo to buy, and I peek out front.

What the hell? It’s Lisa. I ain’t seen her or talked to her since she pushed me out the window.

I open the door. “Hey?”

She in an oversized hoodie and some sweatpants. A baseball cap hide some of her hair. “Hey,” she says, real soft. “Can I come in?”

I step aside and let her in. Lisa hug herself real tight, the way she do when she tryna keep the world away.

“You a’ight?” I ask.

“Um, yeah. Is this a bad time?”

“Kinda. I gotta put Seven down for his nap. If you cool with waiting a li’l bit—it won’t take me long.”

“Yeah. That’s fine.”

“A’ight,” I say. Something not right, but I gotta get this boy to bed. I pick him up. “Seven, say hey to Lisa.”

Lisa get this tiny smile that get bigger the longer she look at him. “Hi, Seven. Wow, what have you been feeding him, Maverick?” She laughs.

“Ay, don’t hate. He just got more to love.”

“Chunky babies are the best babies,” she admit, and come closer. She take Seven’s hand, and he give her a drooly grin. “Hi, Punkin. Hi.”

“Punkin?”

“Yeah. He’s a fat little pumpkin. He looks a lot like you.” Her smile fade a bit. “I also see Iesha.”

As much as I love my son, I hate that sadness in Lisa’s eyes. I try to get rid of it. “Hold up. You said he look like a pumpkin and he look like me. You saying I look like a pumpkin?”

“You wish. He’s cute. You a’ight.”

“Dang, you a hater!” I laugh. It’s as if the last few weeks never happened. “You wanna help me get him ready for his nap?”

Lisa make faces at Seven, and he giggle. She real good with babies. “Depends on what I gotta do. I’m not changing a diaper. No, sir, I’m not,” she says, in her baby voice.

I chuckle. “I’ll change him. You just help me get him to sleep. I want him on schedule. The parenting book said that’s important.”

“Parenting book?”

“Fa’sho. I got a couple of them. I wanna do this right.”

Lisa’s smile don’t reach her eyes. “Wow. That’s . . . that’s great.”

I tilt my head. “You sure you okay?”

“Um, yeah. Let’s get this cutie pie down for his nap.”

She lying, but she obviously not ready to talk. We go to my room, and I swear Seven realize I’m finna put him down. He start crying.

“Ay, stop acting like that in front of company,” I say as I put him on the changing table. “You got this beautiful girl here, and you catching an attitude. That ain’t cool, man.”

Lisa look around my room. It’s real different from the last time she was here. Seven’s stuff took it over. “Wow, you finally took down those hoochie-momma posters.”

I snicker as I undress Seven. She mean all them girls from Playboy that I had on my walls. Lisa hated them. “Yeah. Couldn’t expose him to all of that.”

I pull Seven’s shirt over his head. He whine like, Hurry up!

“A’ight, a’ight!” I say. “Since we got a special guest with us today, I’m gon’ do one of her favorite songs for Daddy radio.”

I beatbox “Baby-Baby-Baby,” by TLC. That’s Lisa’s favorite group and one of her favorite songs. I hold the baby powder like it’s a mic and do a li’l dance.

She laugh. “Oh my God, what are you doing?”

I motion her over to the changing table. She join me. I sing, and she pass me the baby wipes and a clean diaper. Soon she singing too.

It take no time to get him changed. I pick him up, and we dance with him around the room and sing to him. We make him laugh more than I ever have by myself.

Ain’t nothing felt this good.

Seven really like Lisa. So much that he reach for her. He don’t do that with everybody. Ma say he antisocial.