"Breathe, breathe me in, taste my words, let me blow your mind
I will take you far, far away
I'll make you feel alright
You've gotta crave it and chase it
Until you're close enough to taste it
I can give you what you need
I can give you what you need…"

"Make You Feel" – Alina Baraz & Galimatias

April 10th, 20—

I find myself writing more and more as my son grows older.

Erik. N'Jadaka. JaJa.

I remember the night he was conceived so vividly. The urge to make him was so powerful that the moment I released within my woman I knew he was on his way. It is interesting to note the difference between wanting to have a child and having one by accident. When I talk with the men I work with at the shop, most of them had children not by choice, but by surprise. It is what Califia calls being caught out there. If they were with a woman and she happened to get pregnant the response has been either going with the flow, asking for an abortion or leaving the relationship. Some of these men learn to love their children but they are seen as a burden and not a blessing.

I find this way of thinking abhorrent. Granted, when I impregnated Califia the first time, it was not planned, but I was happy when I found out for an all too brief moment before I learned of her operation. I do not understand the thinking of men who behave this way. The second time I left America to return to Wakanda, all I could think about was having a baby with Califia. Erik existed in my mind way before I even reunited with his mother physically. He was real to me even when he was just a thought.

I remember when I came home from Birnin Zana and Califia revealed to me that she was carrying him. She was so scared. Fearful that she would lose this child too. But I knew different. This time I was with her. We wanted this little one together. And Bast blessed us from on high. I know this to be true. The day he was born felt a bit like I was being reborn with him. My hands caught him. I held him first.

Our son.

My world has never been the same since he has come into my life with his mother. I can not imagine living a life without the two of them being in it. Califia has given me the most supreme gift with my son. She is the only woman who could give me a child like him. I ponder sometimes what type of child I would have made with Zinzi or some other woman from back home. Because his bloodline is so different, uniting Califia's hundreds of years of genetic mixing and separation from Africa with my Wakandan pedigree, Erik is a rare jewel. The best of the Old World Africans and the New World ones. My beautiful son.

I find him writing at his desk in his room quite often. I suspect it is because he sees me writing all the time in my journal. He likes to emulate Califia and I. I caught him in our bedroom opening my journal, his curiosity getting the better of him to cause him to violate my privacy. I told him about going through my things without permission. I had no fear of him reading anything that would give my secret identity away. My words are written in my native language. He is beginning to learn the Wakandan alphabet. He is fascinated by the fact that we have more letter/symbols than English. I have been creating a separate journal for him, recording things that will help him understand my culture for when I feel it is time for him to know the truth.

He is sprouting up like a strong tree. He is seven years old now. About to turn eight. He is in the sixth grade and excels in math and science. He loves history and social studies.

Califia and I had to have a serious discussion last night about allowing Erik to attend a local high school part-time for math and computer science, or have him do independent study at home. It feels like every year he excels more and we have to decide what to do with his education. Califia wants him to have the balance of children close to his own age. We are always having slumber parties and play dates with children from her studio. His regular school day finds him around older students, while his extracurricular activities are filled with age-matched peers from our social circles. I think he finds a good balance, but he tends to like older people. He loves sitting with Nana Jean a listening to her stories, especially when she has a card game with what Califia calls a hen party; a group of older women who drink, smoke, play spades and gossip.

Erik has taken up drumming and recently received his fourth capoeira belt. I am very proud of him.

His Uncle Bakari is coming to visit him for his birthday and they will no doubt drum together and play the berimbau for hours. Bakari has been a true brother to me and he has taken my son under his wing as if we were blood family. I am truly grateful for all these years of friendship with him. Bakari and Shavonne found out that they can not have children of their own now. Shavonne suffered from ovarian cancer two years ago and had her ovaries removed. It was a difficult conversation to have with my brother Bakari, but he and Shavonne are considering adoption, and they have focused a lot of love on Erik over the years. They are like his second parents.

Tonight Erik is having a sleepover with his buddy Walter. They've been hanging tough since they first met in pre-school. Walter's parents are always happy to have their son stay with us. I think it is because Erik is a positive influence on Walter. Maybe they think Erik's smarts will rub off on their child.

My son is an introvert. He can be gregarious and appear extroverted when he is with his friends, but he has the tendency to hang back and take in his surroundings before engaging with people. We used to think he was shy once he started elementary school, but the reality is quite different. He observes. Slowly warms up to all that is around him. And then he acts.

He is very particular about how he looks and dresses. Likes things in his room and around him organized and clean. Neat.

Califia is doing well despite the fact that we did have a recent pregnancy scare. Her middle school went through a strike and the stress and worry affected her health. For about two weeks we thought she was pregnant because she had missed a cycle. I admit I was ecstatic. She was actually excited herself until she saw a doctor and it was confirmed that she was not with child. A week later her cycle resumed and we told ourselves that it would have been a welcome surprise. We have been very careful with birth control, but it is my desire to have her pregnant again. And I want her to have our next child in Wakanda. I want to conceive our next little one in my home country. I want a daughter.

Califia predicted it, and I have been holding off on speaking on returning to Birnin Zana with our family, but Erik has begun to ask me about home. He asks why he does not get to meet my family. I have tried to avoid direct answers by planting the idea that my family is estranged and that it is difficult to communicate with them. He seems to accept this answer. It is no different than Califia's relationship with her mother and brothers. They do not often see each other because of distance. My son does not push the issue, but I can see in his eyes that he knows there is more to the story than I am telling him.

I am writing this in bed.

Califia is asleep next to me. Her hair is all over the place and she is in a deep slumber. While the boys were downstairs watching tv and playing video games while lying on the floor with sleeping bags, I was able to sneak a spanking session with her. We did not plan on it, but I walked in from saying goodnight to the boys and found her reading a book in our bed. She had on one of my old undershirts with a T-back design that she liked and just a pair of yellow bikini panties. She turned over to look at me and there was something about the way she stared at me that reminded me of the days when she would be in my bed at my old grad school housing. I reached over and slapped her ass and just marveled at how thick and healthy and gorgeous she looked. Almost eleven years of me knowing her have gone by, and she still gives me a thrill when I look at her.

I made her get on her hands and knees and pulled her panties part way down to her thighs. I spanked her while stroking my dick. She let me play with her pussy with my free hand. My fingers were inside of her when she climaxed, and I let her walls just coat my hand with her slickness. Her pussy is incredible, that is the only way I can describe it. She probably thought I would ride her doggy style, but I just wanted to cum on her face. It is something that I derive great pleasure in doing. The primitive need to mark her with my semen is just a thing I crave if I do not cum inside of her. It makes me feel like I own her. She is mine. No one else can have the honor of painting her face in that way. When she looks up at me, when her lips are parted, when she is waiting for me to release, I just cum so hard that it hurts.

Tonight I had a lot of pent up frustration from work at the shop. Nothing serious, but I knew I was going to need her tonight to calm me down. I groaned so loud when I came, and even more when I saw how much I shot all over her face. She will not move once I have ejaculated on her. She knows I like to stare at her with my semen all over her. I just love to mark her in that way. Some deep-seated urge to watch my fluid drip down her beautiful freckled face. She gives me the most intense look and then I want to do it again. I like to have her wet and slippery and soaking when I am done with her.

I so badly want to wake her up right now and push my dick back into her. The older we get, the more I need to fuck her. She makes comments sometimes to me about how my sex drive should be slowing down. Most men my age reach a certain plateau in their sex drive. What she doesn't know is that my body is not normal. I was created by a man who ingested the heart-shaped herb before he was ever married. When my brother and I were conceived our DNA was already different, superior to regular people. As long as I take care of myself, my body will not slow down like the average man. Thus, my sex drive will not be thwarted. I will probably fuck the way I do now until I am a very old man…

N'Jobu saw a flicker of light under the bedroom door. The angle of the light let him know that Erik was in his room.

N'Jobu closed his journal and left the bed to quietly investigate.

Erik's door was ajar, and he was at his desk writing. Califia had bought him a large dark brown journal that she tried to closely match to N'Jobu's leather-bound journal for him. His face was hunkered down and his right hand was scribbling furiously.

"JaJa," N'Jobu said.

Erik turned away from his journal and looked up at his father. The light from his desk lamp gave the back of his head a halo effect. His baby 'fro looked springy with soft curls.

"Baba…"

"Why are you up so late? Is Walter still downstairs?"

"He's asleep. I wanted to write some things down."

"What sort of things?" N'Jobu asked stepping closer to Erik's desk.

Erik's eyes flitted away from N'Jobu's and glanced down at his writing hand.

"You won't tell Mom, will you?"

"Depends on what you're writing about. Is it something serious?"

N'Jobu took a seat on Erik's bed watching his son's face with curiosity.

"I don't want Mom to know because it's embarrassing."

N'Jobu leaned forward and kept his hands on his knees in an open stance to help Erik relax.

"Go ahead and tell me, Son."

"I had an accident…while I was sleeping…not an accident really…um…my penis…"

N'Jobu cocked his head to the side.

"Your penis what?"

"It got hard, Baba."

N'Jobu let a small smile peek from his lips.

"We've talked about this before. That's natural. Your body is growing and changing and sometimes while you are asleep you will have an erection even at your age—"

"I wasn't really asleep, Baba. I was kind of touching myself."

"Oh."

Oh.

N'Jobu made sure to watch his tone. They hadn't really had the masturbation talk yet.

"Touching yourself is also natural and good. It lets you understand your body and what feels good to you. It is best to do that privately, JaJa."

N'Jobu was beginning to feel like he needed to wake Califia up for this part of the conversation.

"I have a situation at school," Erik said.

"Okay."

Erik looked behind N'Jobu.

"Is Mom asleep?"

"She is."

Erik's face looked fretful.

"JaJa, you can tell me about it."

Erik took a deep breath and spoke with his head down.

"There are these two girls at my school. One is in my P.E. class and the other is in the classroom next to mine. They both like me…."

Erik's eyes glanced up at N'Jobu.

"…and I like them both. Joy, the girl in my P.E. class said I had to decide who I liked best and let them know back at school on Monday. Her and the other girl Amelle are going to wait for me in front of the flag pole. I can't decide."

N'Jobu kept his face neutral, but he was dying of laughter inside. The most stressful occurrence thus far in his son's school life was liking two girls. Two girls who demanded that he make a choice.

"You like them both equally?"

"Yes. That's why…that's why I was touching myself. I was thinking of them and my thoughts made me get excited and then that accident happened—"

"Erik, having an erection is not an accident when you touch yourself. It's okay to do that. Thinking of girls will make that happen a lot. Especially two girls that you like."

"I wanted to see who I liked better when I thought of them while doing that. But it worked for them both."

N'Jobu tried not to let the laughter inside of himself spill out and make his son feel ashamed. The logic behind his masturbation was too precious.

"What makes you like them both equally?"

Erik's face scrunched up a bit.

"I like that they are older than me."

"How much older?"

"Joy is eleven and Amelle is twelve."

An eleven-year-old and a twelve-year-old interested in an eight-year-old. Holy Bast.

"What else do you like about them?"

"They are both funny. I like humor in a woman."

N'Jobu laughed out loud at that. Erik looked sheepish but a smile came across his face, his soft dimples popping out in his cheeks.

"Go on."

"They are both pretty. And smart. I like smart girls. Joy plays basketball with me and Amelle can play chess and beats me sometimes. I like how Joy laughs and Amelle is nice to people who don't have friends."

"Hmmm, I can see how this can be difficult for you. They gave you until Monday to decide?"

"Yes. I came up here to write about it. I want to figure this out, Baba. If I choose Joy, Amelle will feel hurt. If I choose Amelle, then Joy will be upset. If I don't choose any of them, then they both will be mad. Then I won't have a basketball partner or a chess partner anymore for recess. Plus Caleb Baxter has been trying to throw salt in my game by telling me that I just want to be a player. I don't even know what that is really. I asked cousin Junie and he said I should ask you because you would know."

"Junie said that?"

"Yes."

N'Jobu clasped his hands together.

"I think you should get some sleep and not worry too much about Joy and Amelle tonight. We can talk more about it this weekend after Walter is gone. Okay?"

Erik looked relieved to have someone share his burden. N'Jobu stood up.

"Don't stay up too long. You don't want to leave Walter by himself downstairs. If you have any more accidental thoughts of Joy or Amelle, have them in private, understand?"

"Yes, Baba."

N'Jobu leaned over and kissed Erik on his forehead.
"Goodnight, Son. Sleep well."

He left his son's room and returned to his own closing the door. He crawled under the covers and was startled to hear Califia giggling on her side of the bed, wide awake.

"Did you hear us?" N'Jobu asked.

"I heard everything," she said covering her mouth.

"Great," he said.

"Don't worry. I know he doesn't want me to know, so I will feign ignorance. But you were so sweet with him. God, he seems so young to be having these feelings and desires. I just want him to be an innocent little boy forever."

"I need to find out what Junie has been telling him about me."

"I'm sure he's heard Junie and Bakari talking about you when you didn't know he was around. But listen, I fell out when he said he liked humor in a woman!"

Califia covered her mouth again to keep her laughter down.

"Well, to an eight-year-old, a girl three or four years older is a woman to him," N'Jobu said.

"Wait! And then he said that other boy was throwing salt in his game…ohmigod that is all Junie right there!"

N'Jobu laughed with her and they tried their best to keep their voices low.

"Who do you think he'll pick?" she asked.

"My money is on the basketball player. You know ball is life with him."

"Nah, my bet is the chess player. She shows kindness to people who are scorned, and Erik has a soft spot for underdogs."

"Care to place a wager?" he said.

"We are terrible parents, but I got five on Amelle."

###

It never fails to happen.

Like an embedded natural alarm system, Califia can tell when N'Jobu has left their bed when she is asleep. She was in the midst of a pleasant dream about guacamole and her Nana's chicken enchiladas when she felt something off and broke away from her dream state. Her eyes popped open and she saw the book she had been reading wedged under N'Jobu's pillow. He was gone and his journal was lying on the nightstand.

She sat still listening for a moment, thinking he was in the restroom, but then she heard his voice in Erik's room.

"I don't want Mom to know because it's embarrassing."

Fully alert, Califia sat up and cocked her ear toward the door. Partway through their conversation, she had to hold her pillow to her mouth so they wouldn't hear her chuckling.

When N'Jobu returned to bed, she couldn't help but reveal her awakened state. After making bets about who Erik would pick, she and N'Jobu laid in their bed together not saying a word. Each probably lost in their thoughts about Erik.

"How old were you when you realized you liked a girl?" she asked.

"I think maybe I was five. It was a girl from a prominent family in Niganda. She used to kiss me under the table when my father would visit her father. I haven't thought of her in years. She was really something. Just a year older than me, but she was kind of worldly for a six-year-old."

"You were kissing at five? These girls after Erik are almost junior high age. What if they pressure him into doing things he's not equipped to handle yet?"

"He was mature enough to talk to me about something so personal right away. I feel that he will talk to us if he feels pressure or discomfort from the situation. I say we let him figure this out on his own."

"What would an eleven or twelve-year-old see in an eight-year-old boy?"

"Have you met our son?" N'Jobu said giving a sharp laugh to his question.

"I know he's very good-looking, but when I was twelve, the last thing I was checking for was a little dude."

"He's mature. Talented. Brilliant. He came from my loins. What are you missing?"

Califia slapped N'Jobu's arm.

"The conceit—"

"What conceit? I'm stating a fact. That's my seed. Have you seen him work his dimples at your studio when he's flirting? Have you actually watched him flirt with girls and women? The boy is a master."

"But is that manipulation or genuine interest? Boys use girls all the time. I don't want him to be a dog."

"Am I a dog?"

"What?"

"He comes from me. I'm raising him to respect and cherish women. Do you think he'd turn into a dog when I'm teaching him how to be a non-toxic man? He comes from you too. You don't tolerate any bullshit from men, and he sees that. You have to remember, when he was smaller, he wanted to be more like you than me. Would a dog spring from that?"

"I'm not ready for all this," Califia said covering her face and groaning.

"It's not about us being ready, but us preparing him to be a young man and then a fully-grown man."

"I know…but still…that's my baby—"

"He'll always be your baby," he said rolling over to face her.

N'Jobu held her until he drifted off to sleep. She stayed awake listening to his breathing. She could hear Erik and Walter up again playing video games even though it was past midnight.

She thought about what N'Jobu said about Erik flirting at her studio.

She allowed Erik to take her hip-hop dance class and she treated him just like any other student. There was one class for all age groups and the little ones had to keep up if they were going to hang with Califia. She often used Erik to demonstrate complicated steps, and when the class worked on the moves together as a large group, her son would slink to the back to dance next to people he was interested in. Sometimes it was to compete with older dancers, and sometimes it was to be near cute girls. He would simply dance and girls would flock to be near him. If someone had trouble with a step, he would talk to them and show them the move slowly. Then he would compliment them on mastering it.

Once he had their attention, he would move away to the front again and be next to her to show off his prowess at keeping up with her. And she played right into it by dancing with him in front of the mirror and counting off steps for him to further demonstrate. Her little boy was a beast with his moves and she often let him go off in class with the music, gassing him up as he killed any routine she put together. It was over when he freestyled and she would often have to shut him down when he went off and laughed at her trying to cage his groove. Then those damn dimples would come out and the class would hoot and holler. That little negro really did have some game. No wonder Joy and Amelle were demanding his attention despite his young age.

N'Jobu's hand drifted across her chest and he squeezed one of her nipples through the t-shirt she wore and stretched his legs out. She snuggled against him, placing her head on his chest.

"Are they still playing downstairs?" he asked while clearing his throat.

"Yeah."

"I told him not to stay up too late. What time am I taking them to the movies tomorrow?"

"Eleven o'clock matinee."

"Can we change it to later?"

"No, Walter's mom is picking him up from the theater, so make sure you call her when the movie is almost over so she can be waiting in the parking lot."

"You teaching at the studio?"

"Yeah, then I'm going to sit in on my Dad's capoeira class. I think it's time I get this final belt."

His eyes opened. There was a smile on his face. She could see it from the moonlight bathing them from the skylight.

"So a trip to Brazil?"

"Yeah. I'm ready. Erik wants to try for his next cord too."

"I'll get tickets for us then."

"The baptisado is around the time of the city council election. This could be Negra Li's year finally. If she gets in office this time around, we could really do big things there and in Oakland with our non-profit."

N'Jobu kissed her cheek.

"I'm glad I get to be around brilliant Black women."

"I think this will be a great experience for Erik. We can help Negra Li campaign and he can spend time with Axiel and the other old heads."

Califia tilted her head up.

"Are they in the kitchen?"

She heard pots and pans moving around and water running in the kitchen sink.

"Time for them to call it a night," she said jumping out of the bed to put an end to midnight snacking.

###

N'Jobu watched Erik carefully button his shirt for school. His favorite forest green button up. He had put aloe vera gel in his hair to make his curls shine and he couldn't decide on which pair of sneakers to sport.

"The blue or white ones, Baba?"

"White," N'Jobu said.

"How do I look?"

"Smooth."

Erik grinned. He took a deep breath.

"Just go with your heart, Son. It'll all turn out okay."

"I hope so."

Erik took a good long look at himself in his bedroom mirror.

Today was the day.

The choosing of a girlfriend and the ending of a friendship if he chose wrong according to Erik.

Califia kept up the masquerade of not knowing what was going on, but she still cooked him his favorite breakfast of waffles and bacon and came up with the pretense of having to ride with N'Jobu when he dropped Erik off at school because of car issues.

When they all rode over to Erik's school, N'Jobu made sure to park near the flag pole so he and Califia could scope out the main event without Erik really seeing them. They both watched him hop out the backseat and put on his backpack. He waved to them both, hooked his fingers in the backpack straps and trudged his way toward the flag pole.

"I think that's them…it is! There are the girls!" Califia squealed.

Two girls both wearing designer brand t-shirts and jeans waited by the flag pole. One was a short dark brown-skinned cutie who was a bit pudgy, and the other was an equally adorable skinny whip of a thing with bow legs, and golden-brown skin. Both had dark big bushy hair, and both had their hands on their hips when Erik approached them.

"Here we go," N'Jobu said.

Califia reached out and held his hand as they peeped the drama.

"Should we really be watching this? What if it goes south? There's no way I can pretend to not know if he comes home with a broken heart…oh, my poor baby!" Califia said.

"Hold tight, girl," N'Jobu said, his face animated but his heart in his throat too along with Califia.

"I can't watch," she said covering her eyes.

"Shh," he said.

"What's happening?"

"Stop hiding your eyes and just watch."

They both gazed over at their son as they watched his head bob a bit as he was talking, his hands gesticulating a bit as he explained his reasoning for whomever he was choosing.

"God, he looks so calm and diplomatic," Califia said.

They watched both girls listen, their faces betraying nothing until suddenly they both stared at each other then looked at Erik together at the same time. The dark brown-skinned girl said a few words and she looked calm while saying it. She then turned to the golden brown-skinned girl and pointed at her.

"Uh oh, looks like he picked Miss Bow Legs," N'Jobu said.

The other girl said a few words and then her fingers were pointing back at the other girl.

"This may be a flag on the play, lil thick Mama may be the winner," Califia said.

Both girls finally stopped talking when Erik resumed his words. When he was done, he placed his hands back on his backpack straps.

Both girls looked at one another again and then—

"Wait. Wait! What just happened?" Califia squeaked in the passenger seat.

N'Jobu started laughing and slapped a hand on his steering wheel.

"Oh, my Gawd! No he didn't!" Califia said.

"His choice!" N'Jobu said.

They both watched the two girls kiss each side of Erik's cheeks and walk on either side of him onto the school campus. All together.

"That boy chose them both, didn't he?" Califia said leaning back in the passenger seat and folding her arms across her chest.

"We don't know for sure—"

"They were both smiling and kissing his cheeks at the same time. That is all you!"

"Me?!"

"That's some N'Jobu Dumisani Udaku maneuvering. That boy knows what a player is—"

"Player? How is it playing when they both agree to it?"

"Shut up!"

N'Jobu laughed and started up his car. Califia looked at him with amusement in her eyes.

"Hey, I'm not the only one who used to juggle several people at the same time. Polyamory is your thing. That's you he's taking after," N'Jobu said.

"Tuh."

"I guess our bet is moot now?"

"Clearly. Make sure you get the 411 when he comes home today."

"I'm going to mind my business and let him tell us what he wants us to know."

"You ain't right. How am I supposed to look at him at dinner?"

"Just like you normally do."

Califia shook her head.

"Califia, don't you mess this up being nosey."

"I won't."

###

"So, did anything exciting happen at school today?"

Califia felt N'Jobu's eyes on her face as she watched Erik tuck into his plate of rice and spicy plantains.

"No," Erik said reaching for a bowl of cauliflower.

She felt N'Jobu's foot nudge her ankle under the table.

"Erik, your mom wants to go up for her final cord at the next baptisado in Sao Paulo."

Erik's eyes got big. Califia spooned a bit of rice into her mouth.
"For real, Mom?"

"Yep. You feel like training with me, maybe go for your next cord too?'

"Yeah!" he said, his eyes shining with excitement.

"Auntie Li is running for city council again, so we're going to help her out while we're there. That means we'll be gone for a while. Are you cool with that?"

"Yep!"

"Good. Baba will get the tickets for us early…but Erik, that means you'll miss computer camp this year."

"That's okay, I've been coding some stuff on my own and I can catch up on what I missed with Walter. His mom is finally letting him go this summer."

"That's good to hear," she said.

They ate more food and talked about mundane things, and Erik watched Califia interact with his father with great intent. When they were enjoying a slice of Nana's famous coconut cake, Erik seemed fidgety.

"What's wrong, JaJa?" Califia asked.

"Mom, can I ask you something?"

Califia glanced over at N'Jobu and his calm eyes telegraphed nothing out of the ordinary.

"Sure, go ahead, baby."

Erik's eyes drifted over to N'Jobu's and then he sat up a bit in his seat.

"What was it about Baba that made you like him so much?"

Califia felt her heart flutter. He was trying to share his new feelings with her in a round-about -way.

"Did you like him when you first met him?"

"She did not, Son—"

"Wait! When I first met you, I was in the middle of something important—"

"You barely wanted to give me the time of day—"

"I was starving—"

"So that's a no?" Erik asked.

Califia picked at her cake.

"I found your father interesting. And handsome…but he was already going after another girl when I met him."

"For real, Baba?"

Califia stuck a big bite of cake into her mouth and stared at N'Jobu. His face looked stricken, like he had betrayed his own son by being with another woman before her.

"Uh—" N'Jobu said.

"Uh, nothing. I was in the middle of talking to your father about his bracelet when this other girl walked right in front of me and took him away. Just like that!" Califia snapped her fingers. Erik's eyes narrowed a bit.

"Who could be better than my mother, Baba?"

"Say that, baby. Answer your son. Who could be better than moi?"

She could see already that N'Jobu wanted her to shut up. She could also see that glint in his eye that told her he was going to get her back later. Hopefully in bed.

"We were in University. Uncle Bakari wanted me to meet some new people so that's what I was doing. I met a lot of people there that night. Not just your mother."

"So what made you pick her?"

N'Jobu folded his hands under his chin and rested his elbows on the table while looking Califia dead in her face.

"She was fierce, JaJa. So fierce. When I looked at her, I couldn't see anyone else. That's the honest truth, Son. It wasn't just the way your mother looked. It was how she made me feel. Strong. Powerful. Happy. Special. Curious and open to new ideas…just so many things that made me feel alive and whole. No other woman has ever made me feel like that. When she was away from me, I was miserable…I didn't feel like myself without her. When she was by my side, I knew I could conquer the world. That's how I knew she was the one for me. That's how I knew. And I love her more every day each time I look at you, JaJa. I hope you can be so lucky one day."

Califia felt water prick her eyes, but she tried to hold back any tears. When she glanced back over at Erik, his bright eyes studied her face and she started to cry.

"Come here, girl," N'Jobu said reaching his arm out for her.

Califia moved out of her seat and sat on his lap. She buried her face in his neck and he stroked her back.

"Hey…hey…you know that's what you mean to me…" N'Jobu whispered in her ear.

Califia wiped her eyes and turned to face Erik. She cleared her throat and sat up on N'Jobu's lap so that she was leaning into him.

"One time I was visiting a museum with your father. We were looking at blankets and pictures from his country. We were still getting to know each other. Not exactly friends, but getting there. I asked him if he could take me to one place in his country, he said it was this river that was like a natural sauna. I was looking up at his face and I thought I could be with him forever. That was also the day he first kissed me—"

"Aye, you kissed me first!"

"Oh yeah, I did—"

"That's when all that started?" Erik asked.

"Yeah," Califia said staring at N'Jobu, ready to take his lips in hers right then and there.

Erik stood up and walked over to them. He wrapped his arms around Califia's waist and placed his head on her chest.

"I'm glad you found each other. I think you should apologize to Mom for letting that other woman interrupt your first meeting, Baba," Erik said.

"Apologize!" Califia demanded and N'Jobu kissed her instead.