Giving up
Is hard to do
When you really
Love someone
Giving up
So hard to do
When you still depend upon
Her warm and tender touch
Her kiss and her caress
Ooh, they used to
Mean so much
And bring you happiness…

Donny Hathaway – "Giving Up"

N'Jobu sat on a kitchen chair holding an icepack made from a plastic sandwich bag filled with ice on the left side of his forehead. He was able to get the bleeding from the small tear in his skin to stop some time ago. Califia walked into the kitchen carrying a bottle of ibuprofen. She shook out four tabs and handed them to him and poured him a glass of water. He gulped down the medicine and took the glass from her.

"Let me see," she said, pulling back his hand that held the icepack.

She touched the butterfly bandage she had put on him.

"Swelling's not too bad now," she said pushing his hand back with the ice pack. She placed the ibuprofen on the counter and held up three fingers in front of his face.

"How many do you see?"

"Three," he said.

She switched up to seven fingers.

"Seven," he said.

"You should probably stay up for a few hours, just to see if your vision gets blurry or anything."

She walked out of the kitchen and he followed her.

She picked up the duffle bag she had dropped on the floor and grabbed her motorcycle jacket from the back of the front door.

"Don't leave. Please. I don't want you to leave," he said moving close behind her. He took the ice pack from his forehead.

"Let's talk," he said sitting on the couch and watching her.

"Now you want to talk? We nearly tore up this apartment, and now your ass wants to talk. Fuck outta here-"

"I was angry and I lashed out, and I'm sorry—"

"You basically called me a slut! You made me feel cheap and small…"

Her bottom lip quivered.

"You told me to get my shit and leave—"

"I was wrong…I was hurt…upset…I didn't mean any of that—"

"Yes, you did! I saw it in your eyes—"

"I was wrong…I was wrong…sit down, Califia…please…"

She dropped the duffle bag again and sat on the far side of the couch away from him. Her eyes were welling up. His own throat was closing up.

"I am sorry that I made you feel less than what you really are. I saw that video and I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I was excited to come back here and be with you again, and then…I received the video in Atlanta…my head just filled up with so much…I was livid. Confused. Mainly I was hurt. To see the woman that I love, who I have been separated from for a month…to see you in an embrace like that. What was I to think? What if you saw me in a compromising position like that? With Bridgette? Or Andrea? How would you react?"

A loose tear spilled down Califia's face and she wiped it.

"I would be upset…but I would let you tell me your side of it! No matter how horrible things looked, I would've given you that chance first!" she yelled.

Her raised voice made him feel so much shame.

"Please. Tell me what happened. I will listen."

Califia wiped her other eye and she folded her hands in her lap.

"I went to the club with Bakari and Shavonne. Xavier was there with his girlfriend. Everything was cool. He introduced me to her. We're all dancing together, no big deal. Moises started counting down the time…everyone's hugging when it struck midnight. Xavier put his hand in my back pocket and pulled me into him and kissed me. I pushed away from him and wiped my mouth. I drank some tequila shots to get the taste out of my mouth…"

N'Jobu intently watched her face. She was looking off into the distance as she spoke, her eyes moving as if she were reliving the event in front of her.

"The tequila was a little too strong, and didn't mix well with my edible and I needed air. Moises helped me walk it off outside and Xavier came out to check on me. Moises left, and Xavier started talking about how he was struggling with our break up. He said he missed me and I told him it was difficult for both of us, but that we would be okay. I went to leave and he hugged me. Then he started crying and said he wanted me to be happy. He started falling apart and I just hugged him and patted his back until he calmed down. Moises came back out to check on me and I walked back inside the club with him. That's all that happened, N'Jobu. I swear. I was high, and the liquor had me fucked up, so whatever he was doing…rubbing up on me…that's not what I planned when I went outside to clear my head. He was in a bad place and all I did was comfort him. I was just thinking about you that night. I had that book of poetry you gave me in my head the whole time. I felt so good inside. I got to dance my heart out for fun. I got to think about what I wanted to do when you came back to me—"

N'Jobu slid over to her and pulled her into his chest.

"Califia…shit…forgive me for being an ass tonight."

"You don't trust me."

"It's not about trust."

"Then what is it? Why couldn't you tell me about the video before you came back?"

"I was scared."

She pulled back from him and looked at his face.

"Scared of what?"

"I feel very insecure with you and my life. My country and my family are experiencing some major transitions, and I am under a lot of stress back home. You are the only constant and special thing…person…in my life. You give me peace. I was scared to say that I am terrified that you'll leave me. I often think that maybe I should've waited a little longer to get with you because it hasn't been that long since your break-up. I'm scared you still have feelings for him and that you'll wake up one day and just go back to him. I think of this a lot. When I saw that video…I thought my worst fear was confirmed. It had come true…"

"You could've talked to me about this."

"You would think I was weak."

She held his hand.

"No, I wouldn't. I would think you were human. Had I known you felt that way, I would never have danced with Xavier or allowed him in my space."

She touched the butterfly bandage.

"I have made a mess of the entire evening. I just wanted to come home and be with you in our quiet apartment. I didn't even comfort you after our session," he said.

"You stopped checking in with me. I should've ended it when you started doing that. We can't do that if we don't check in with each other."

She curled up into his side and he wrapped his arms around her.

"We can't work if you keep things that scare you away from me, N'Jobu. You let your anger into a space that is supposed to be safe for us," she said.

He nodded.

"I have been through a lot of shit, so nothing you can say to me would make me push you away or think less of you. You have to be straight up. You can't just react and have me out here guessing what you're feeling. Just talk to me. N'Jobu, you are not a rebound. You are not a rebound." she said.

"Okay."

His chest trembled, and he exhaled hard. She placed her hand on his chest and he held it tight.

"You still love, me?" he asked.

She looked up at him and kissed him.

"I still love you. But don't ever do me like this again. I will walk and never look back."

She kissed him again. He felt a tear slide down his face.

"I'm sorry, baby…" he said.

She wiped his cheek.

"I know you are. I promise to tell you about things that happen in the future too."

She looked at his forehead again.

"Does it still hurt?"

"A dull ache."

"You'll have to stay up then. I could've given you a concussion. Are you sure you don't want to get checked out?"

"You can check me out."

She glanced over at the bookshelf. There were books still strewn all over the floor.

"We should put those back-"

"Just leave them. Sit here with me."

He stroked her hair that always defied gravity and rubbed her back. She relaxed more into him and he kissed her forehead.

"I messed up your special evening. The food was exceptional."

"I even bought you that nasty ice cream you like. But you are on punishment. You get none for a week."

He lifted up her chin.
"Whatever punishments you want to give me, I will take."

He pressed his lips on hers and she opened her mouth willingly and he felt such relief. His tongue swept hers and he kept stroking her back. He pulled back to hold her face and look at it. She was his most precious thing. Her eyes were still shiny with unshed tears, and he kissed her again. He then gazed at all her freckles to reacquaint himself with them. He then glanced down at her soft lush mouth. Her nose ring tickled his nose when he rubbed it against hers. But it was her eyes that held him at this moment. Those passionate, unpredictable, and so very arresting eyes…

"Ah, don't…please…don't cry girl…"

Tiny drops cascaded down her face, and nothing wounded him more than seeing her so hurt, especially by his own actions.

He held her close and rocked her until she fell asleep.

He laid her out comfortably and left the couch to fix the shelf and place all the fallen books back. He put away the leftovers and cleaned up the kitchen too. He picked up the duffel bag and unpacked her things in the bedroom.

Returning to the livingroom, he watched her as she slept on the couch. He still felt horrible.

He picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.

Lying in bed with her, he held her in his arms and listened to her breathing as she slept until his own eyes drifted and closed.

When N'Jobu woke up the next morning, Califia was gone.

In a panic, he checked his drawer. Her things were still there.

###

"I think we should talk to someone…"

Her text message popped up out of the blue after they had been separated for about three weeks.

When Califia disappeared from their bed the day after his return from Wakanda, he accepted that she needed space after what they had been through. Whatever she needed to do he was in full support of.

She came back two days later after staying at her grandmother's, and they resumed a bit of normalcy, except there was no physical intimacy. He tried to initiate sexual contact a week after his return, but she told him no, she wasn't ready yet. And he accepted that. He thought she would come to him when she was ready. She never did.

He had an extra full course load that term and Califia was preparing to graduate, so they had very little time together anyway, but it was difficult to be gone all day five days a week and lay next to her at night without touching her, or she touching him. Not even kisses or hugs.

He soon started sleeping on the pullout bed at first so she wouldn't feel uncomfortable wondering if he was going to pester her at night. When Bakari officially moved in with Shavonne, N'Jobu took over his room. He and Califia started living as roommates.

He beat himself up mentally every day for engaging in their sex play while he was in a state of anger. Although he talked to her every night and let her take the lead in any physical contact since then, she had closed herself off to him. He thought about letting her go. He was on edge thinking of all the things he could do or say to her to gain back her trust in him, and the only solution he could come up with was to accept that it was over. Give her permanent space.

Maybe it was time to let her walk away. He would take the pain now and accept that he fucked up, finish up his studies and just go home. Learn from his mistake. Marry Zinzi. Start pumping out royal babies. Maybe then Califia would fade from his heart and he could get rid of the gaping wound that sat deep in his chest.

"I feel stuck…"

One night when she returned home from partying with Rolita and Soliel, he asked her to move out. Go back to her grandmother's.

The look on her face cut him to the bone. It wasn't anger. It was hurt. And surprise.

"We can't live like this. I don't want a roommate. I hurt you and I can't figure out how to fix it. You look so unhappy when you come here at night, and you won't talk to me about it," he said.

He had pressed his index and ring finger into his palm hard, his fingernails causing pain to distract himself so that he wouldn't cry. He needed to get those words out. Needed her to hear them without any shakiness in his voice.

But that damn look on her face. He wished he had just fallen out of love with her. Then he wouldn't have to feel anything. The indifference would've been freeing. So much easier than looking at her at that moment.

She didn't say anything, just allowed her face to convey her pain. He went into his room and buried his face under a pillow.

She was gone the next day. But she left her things there. He pretended not to see them and just went on about his business, filling his days with schoolwork, going to the gym, jogging, and pretending like things were okay when he hung out with Bakari.

"I have a lot of anger in me…"

Occasionally he would drop her a text to check in. Simple things like, "How are you?", "Getting close to finishing, I'm proud of you.", "I miss you a lot." At first, she answered him back, short simple replies that came off cordial like, "I'm doing ok.", "Can't wait 'til I'm done.", and "I miss you too."

But as time went on, she stopped answering his texts. She didn't respond to his emails.

Serah had cussed him out in a series of text messages, so Bakari was his only buddy to help keep his mind off of things, and he was terrified that Califia would tell him about their situation, but thus far, Bakari was oblivious, too busy with Shavonne to notice anything out of order. Bakari was also applying to law school, so he really had his plate full.

Three weeks, and not a word from her. A numbness settled into him, but he kept telling himself that he did the right thing by asking her to leave. But then he wondered if that had been too soon, could he have waited longer to live like the walking dead around her, fearful that everything he said or did would cause her more pain. He had his own feelings to think about too. Walking around feeling worthless wasn't healthy for him, especially if she wasn't talking to him openly about her own feelings.

"Can we meet up and talk about this?"

He called her on her cell.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"Nana's."

"I'm on my way."

###

The appointment was for ten in the morning. He arrived at the office thirty minutes early. The receptionist offered him coffee or tea, and he accepted a cup of mint tea with honey. After filling out some paperwork that had him give personal info and answer a few questions, he thumbed through a running magazine as he waited to see the woman that Califia said would help them.

A therapist named Dr. Davis.

N'Jobu glanced at his watch. It was almost time for their appointment and Califia hadn't arrived yet. He started to feel anxious. Was she going to stand them up?

He had met with Califia several times in person at her grandmother's talking about seeking professional help. Dr. Davis was Califia's regular therapist, and when she mentioned utilizing couples' therapy, N'Jobu readily agreed to go. He was willing to try anything if it helped Califia talk to him.

Now she wasn't even going to show up.

"N'Jobu?"

A tall Black woman with a gorgeous mane of salt and pepper twists stood in front of him. N'Jobu put down the magazine he was reading and stood up.

"I'm Dr. Davis."

He shook her hand, mesmerized by her warm brown face and inquisitive eyes behind a pair of horn-rimmed glasses.

"Hi," he said.

"I asked Califia to come in a little later with us. I wanted to have a little one on one with you before she arrived. Is that alright?"

"Yes," he said.

"This way then."

He followed Dr. Davis into an office that looked like a cozy livingroom inside a Better Homes and Gardens magazine.

"Please, have a seat," she said.

N'Jobu sat on a comfortable L-shaped couch while Dr. Davis sat in a plush chair that sat adjacent to him. There was an end table next to the couch with a box of tissue on it, a bowl of peppermints, and two bottled waters.

"How are you feeling right now, N'Jobu?"

"Nervous. But glad to be here."

"Nervous is normal. And I'm glad that you want to be here. Califia has given me permission to discuss certain things openly with you before she comes in. Do you need anything before we get started? The restroom or anything?"

"No."

"If you haven't already, I'd like to remind you to make sure your cell phone is off."

He nodded.

They made a little bit of small talk, and N'Jobu found himself relaxing quite easily with her.

"I have been Califia's therapist for many years. When her father went to prison, she had a difficult time adjusting to life without him, as I'm sure you are aware. Those were rough times for her and her mother. She only sees me maybe three or four times a year now. Our last session was right after the police incident in front of your apartment. She's a strong young woman, but her trauma triggers come back from time to time. The incident you two had at your apartment, after the spanking, it brought back some things to her that she'd like to talk about when she comes in."

N'Jobu felt his face flame up, and his eyes blinked back surprise. Dr. Davis chuckled.

"Don't feel embarrassed, N'Jobu. BDSM and kink are acceptable lifestyle choices for consenting adults. I have patients in all types of communities. I'm trained to help with issues that come up in those communities too."

He visibly relaxed after that. There was a knock at the door.

"Come on in," Dr. Davis said.

Califia walked in, her head covered in a beanie, her body looking sleek in her riding jacket and boots.

"Hey," she said, looking at N'Jobu, "Hi, Dr. Davis."

"Hello, Califia. Go ahead and take a seat," Dr. Davis said.

Califia sat on the couch next to N'Jobu, two feet of space between them.

Dr. Davis set up the parameters of their session and also the rules of how they should both communicate. Using "I" statements instead of "You". Listening without judgment. Breathing correctly. Making eye contact if possible.

Dr. Davis came off to N'Jobu as a wise old soul. She reminded him of a loving Aunt that wanted to bring a family back together and would walk them through the hurt as far as they needed her to go.

At first, N'Jobu thought their spanking session and the fact that Califia had to use their safe word was a fundamental cause of her disengagement from their relationship. But in their talk with Dr. Davis, he learned that she had to use her safe words in previous relationships and that having to use a safe word was not a deal breaker for her. Using her safe words allowed her to understand her tolerance for pain and to see how far she could go before having to pump the breaks.

He then thought that it was his lack of aftercare for her coming down from their session that rankled her. It bothered her in the sense that it was rude and insensitive, but she could get over that by reminding him of her needs. What broke her on top of all of those things was that she had attacked him when his words hurt her. She had gone straight to physical violence on him instead of talking out her pain.

"My mother and father used to argue all the time. Over finances, how they were raising me, where we lived…and my Mom used to get so mad that she would attack my Dad. Throw things at him, straight fight his ass like a rough neck. He would try to hold her off, and it would just be so…so ugly. And when you told me that I would just hop on your dick like I was just some random jump-off…I just…I just turned into my mom, and….and…"

"Keep going, Califia. This is a safe space. Tell him," Dr. Davis said.

"I wanted to hurt you so bad, and I don't want to be like that, I don't want us to turn into them. I knew my parents loved each other…but they would just go at it, and I don't want us to have that type of dynamic. I don't want to hit you when I get mad. I thought when we talked afterward I could get over that, and it just ate at me. I shut you out. I want to talk, but then I get overwhelmed and I just want to ignore the problem. I didn't want you to touch me. I didn't want to touch you. I beat on you, N'Jobu. And you let me. You didn't raise your hand to hit me back in defense at all, and when you did that, I saw my Dad in you…I just couldn't handle that like I thought I could. My Mom is a good person, she just didn't know how to communicate with him without fighting him when she got that angry. I don't want that. I don't want that for us. I feel like I may be falling into a pattern I can't break."

N'Jobu didn't know how to respond. He just listened. Let her get it all out.

Dr. Davis talked to them both about generational trauma, and how children often experienced and reenacted that trauma in their adult lives.

N'Jobu found it difficult to hear about Califia's parents on top of the trauma and PTSD she often suffered from later in life. It made him feel inadequate to help her the way he really wanted to.

"What can I do?" he asked. That was all he could think to say. For the first time in a long time, Califia reached out and touched his hand. He felt his hand shake, and then he opened his palm. She placed her hand in his and he held it. They both looked over at Dr. Davis.

"We need to work on you two building back up the trust you have lost with one another. You both have to create new boundaries in your physical relationship, especially with the spanking. And you also need to find more effective ways of communicating that won't trigger either of you. We can do that here," Dr. Davis said.

Dr. Davis handed Califia some tissue and N'Jobu watched her wipe her eyes with her free hand.

"Let's get started," Dr. Davis said.

N'Jobu felt Califia squeeze his hand.

He mouthed the words "I love you," to her and she squeezed his hand again.

###

The two-foot bamboo sticks in Califia's hands vibrated when they clashed with the sticks in Bakari's hands.

The storefront studio where they practiced was well lit and only contained the two of them this early as Bakari helped her train. She wanted Bakari to come at her with as many different offensive moves as he could before they switched out and practiced with the real machetes sitting on a table not too far from them.

Bakari was really going all out with his hits, so she was really feeling his energy.

When she was younger, she first trained under the style of Capoeira Angola. It was a slower, smoother form, and played very low to the ground. But the first time she saw Soliel's father demonstrate the Capoeira Regional style at an open roda in Oakland as a kid, she switched over to the faster and more acrobatic style. It was also more aggressive and fit her energy. It got her in trouble a lot in school when she would kick the shit out of boys on the playground who got out of pocket with her.

Her father, who was still a follower of the Angola style, had to have a chat with her about boundaries and using her martial arts skills in appropriate places. By then, word got around the school and the neighborhood about her: don't start none, won't be none.

Califia and Bakari worked the room and then switched out to the real machetes. The clashing of metal on metal made Califia push herself harder.

"Slow down…keep your focus…good…watch your feet…Califia watch your feet…good…keep at it," Bakari said.

The three little bells attached to the front door jingled.

From the corner of her eyes, Califia saw N'Jobu slip into the storefront with dark sweatpants and a dark hoodie. Bakari stopped when he saw him. N'Jobu slipped off his sneakers and stuck them against the mirrored wall.

"W'sup?" Bakari said, giving N'Jobu a wide smile.

"Chillin'," N'Jobu responded.

Bakari put down the machetes he was using and walked over to N'Jobu, gave him dap, and small talk.

Califia put away her blades and stretched her arms.

She didn't tell Bakari about anything that happened between her and N'Jobu.

She had snuck out of bed early while N'Jobu still slept. She wanted to make love to him; her body tingled just thinking about it. But her mind and spirit were still catching up. Getting to sweat and work out the sinews and muscles felt good. Her on-going therapy sessions with N'Jobu and Dr. Davis made her feel stronger and more capable of handling her feelings, especially her anger.

Seeing N'Jobu now felt a lot better. He looked really happy to see her too. She had moved back in with him and they were sleeping in the same bed together again. There was cuddling and hugging, and now a bit of kissing, but still no sex. She felt she would be ready soon and they were following the guidance of Dr. Davis and not rushing into physical intimacy on that level yet. It was nice to feel that slow burn again with him. Kissing N'Jobu again was a nice treat, and those long lip-locked sessions in bed made them both happy.

"What brings you to the 'hood, son?" Bakari asked.

"Came to see my girl," N'Jobu said.

She was sure Bakari didn't pick up on it, but Califia clearly heard the subtext in N'Jobu's words. He was looking dead at her when he said it. Are we okay today? Is what he meant. She gave him a smile.

What she was really spinning about in the recesses of her mind often was the way he moved defensively against her that night. Not one time did he allow himself to hurt her, even as she was giving him that work. It was that grappling shit that had her fired up. What the hell type of fighting was he doing that awful night? She always wanted to ask but didn't want to make him feel bad again re-living that pain. Enough time had passed. One way to find out…

"Come out here and show Bakari that shit you do," she said.

N'Jobu begged off.

"Bakari, did you know N'Jobu fights?"

Bakari looked at N'Jobu.

"What's it called?" she pushed.

"Tell it," Bakari said.

"I learned it as a teenager back home. It's called ulwa."

Califia held out her hand like her childhood hero Donnie Yen and beckoned N'Jobu to come to the floor. She wanted to spar with him. See what else he could do.

N'Jobu took off his hoodie and placed it on the table with the machetes. His white tank top hugged his pecs. He stretched his arms and flexed his biceps.

Califia tightened her workout pants. Her own tank top stretched over her sports bra.

They both met in the middle of the studio hardwood floor and crouched down in front of each other. They slapped hands out of respect, and then Califia began an offensive that N'Jobu easily deflected. While Califia did a lot more acrobatics, N'Jobu's stance was a sly offensive that looked like defensive moves but were really calculated blows toward her center. She got into trouble when he started using those grappling moves with his hands and then used his legs to slide on the ground and keep her off balance.

"Oh, shit!" Bakari yelled.

Unlike that night, when Califia was moving out of blind passion and anger, her clear head now started to pick up on how powerful ulwa was. The best way she could describe it was like holding the midsection of a rattlesnake while it was constantly snapping its poisonous jaws at the face, chest and inner thighs. He kept her off balance, and soon he had her pinned to the floor. Her speed didn't help her this time.

"Shit," she said, untangling her legs from his strong thighs.

"Ulwa goes for the center. It forces the opponent to fight blindly to control the big arm and leg movements," N'Jobu said.

"Man, you've been holding out all this time?" Bakari said.

"It's similar to capoeira in a lot of ways," N'Jobu said.

"Can you fight with blades? Sticks?"

He nodded.

"Give him the sticks, Bakari," Califia said, jumping back up on her feet.

Califia picked up her sticks while N'Jobu took Bakari's.

"Let's see what you got, baby," she said, circling him. His height and weight advantage could overpower her if she wasn't careful. He had a longer arm reach too. Her speed was her only real power with him. N'Jobu was fast. But she was faster. She let him come for her first.

Mistake.

As he told them both, ulwa came for the center, and Califia found herself unable to get out of a defensive stance the moment he charged her.

Their sticks clashed, and she tried everything, spinning, distracting him with backhand flips and lower leg attacks, but all that did was make him lunge for her midsection.

"Lower your arms!" he yelled, coaching her as he moved, "get in here tight…there you go…okay…you got it…don't be afraid to move in closer. You've got the speed girl. Use it!"

She spun and gave high kicks, low kicks, and tried to use his blind spots to get the advantage. She got frustrated.
"Don't quit…come here and get it…come on…" he said.

She could hear the front door bells ring again, and she heard some of her young Saturday students filtering in the studio, but she kept her eyes on N'Jobu. She was making progress, getting a little closer to his center until finally, she slid up close enough to tap her sticks on his thighs. He swiped her sticks away, but she spun on him and aimed her sticks under his throat.

"Gotcha!" she said with a smirk on her face.

"That's my girl!" he said and picked her up, lavishing her cheeks with kisses. She found herself laughing and so thrilled to have finally gotten that close to him in battle. When he put her down, she heard her students saying "Ooh, Miss Califia!"

Turning around, she saw all twelve of her little ones sitting around the room watching them. The girls and boys ranged in age from five to twelve. Two different mothers of her younger ones sat on chairs by the front door watching her with gossipy eyes and also checking out N'Jobu.

"That's her boyfriend," Bakari teased, getting his berimbau ready.

"Do you mind if I stay and watch?" N'Jobu asked.

"Be my guest. Class runs an hour and fifteen minutes. Then we give the students snacks. The older kids get here after that."

"I'll hang out then," he said.

Califia went to the sound system locked inside a wooden case and turned on the warm-up music. She always started her charges with a quick twenty minute warm-up and stretching session. The music was mellow R&B. She grabbed her water bottle and chugged down the whole thing.

"Alright little ones, let's get to it," she said.

All the children scrambled up on their feet and spread out behind her.

She glanced over at N'Jobu who had put his hoodie back on. Looking at his face she felt at ease once more.

They were going to be okay.

###

N'Jobu watched Califia work with her young charges. They were so adorable trying to do the swaying and various leg moves. She was so patient with them, especially the youngest one who was still mastering basic balance.

She played a game with them called dragon tails at the end, where two children stood in the middle of a circle with a bandanna hanging out of their pocket and they each had to try and snatch away the bandanna from their opponent. The other children sat cross-legged around them and would try to snatch the bandanna of either player, seeking a chance to step into the circle. It was fun to watch, and the children got so excited playing it.

"Come try, N'Jobu," Califia said, waving a bandanna at him.

He stepped into the circle and attached the bandanna inside the waistband of his sweats. His opponent was a little boy of seven who was eager to challenge an adult. The moment Califia gave the signal to start, N'Jobu already lost when he felt his bandanna get snatched by a five-year-old girl. N'Jobu gave her the most shocked expression he could muster, and the little girl burst into giggles waving the bandanna at him.

N'Jobu really saw Califia's teaching talent when the older kids came in, surly teenagers, mainly boys who weren't novices to the art, but thought they were very good when they weren't. Califia had a way of putting them in their place and re-focused their surliness into strategic moves. They respected her, and N'Jobu knew for sure one had a big crush on her and it was awkward to watch a gangly teen trying to mack so hard on his girlfriend when she was way out of his league and age-range. Bast bless him for having the audacity to dream big.

When her teaching block was over, she walked out with N'Jobu. Bakari had to stay longer to help teach an adult class.

"That was fun to watch," N'Jobu said.

"They're good kids," she said.

He held her hand as he walked her to her bike.

"I got a call from my brother. My sister-in-law is in labor. My nephew is on his way!"

"How exciting!"

"I know. It's my parent's first grandchild, and they are thrilled."

"Uncle N'Jobu!" she said.

"Hey, I have prepared my spicy plantains and rice you like," he said.

"Yummy!" she said.

She raised up and kissed him on his lips.

"Thank you!"

"You are very welcome," he said.

"Can we re-schedule Dr. Davis this week?" she asked.

"Why?"

"Soleil's parents are coming out to visit and they are doing brunch that day and I want to go with them."

"No problem. I'll call Dr. Davis. Do you want later next week or the following week?"

"The following."

"I'll take care of it."

She was looking at him funny.

"What?"

"Nothing. I can't just look at you?"

"You can, but the look you're giving is weird."

"No, it's not!" she said jabbing his arm.

"I'm telling Dr. Davis!" he joked.

She jabbed him again, and when he pretended to be hurt, she kissed him.

He held her close and let her use her tongue to explore his mouth. He rubbed her lower back and she let her tongue surge more forcefully around his and he gave into her. She was taking him away.

When she released his lips, he couldn't even think straight.

"I have to run some errands, so I'll be home later. Maybe we can continue this when I get back?" she said.

Her breathing was a bit erratic and she had that look on her face. That look of wanting to do more than just kiss.

"Whatever you want," he said.

"I want you," she said pressing her forehead against his. He closed his eyes, fighting off a groan. He gave a deep sigh instead.

"We'll take it slow," he said.

She nodded.

"Are you sure that's what you want, Califia? I can wait."

"We can do more," she said.

"At your pace, baby. Okay?"

She nodded and kissed him again. He held on to her bottom lip a little longer with his lips. His mouth soon found its way to her neck.

"Hmmm, my spot, baby…my spot…" she crooned in his ear.

He pulled away from her.

"Go run your errands. I'll see you later," he said.

He watched her strap on her helmet and take off on her bike.

###

Califia texted him and said she would be back a little later, and that she had gotten caught up with her grandmother working on a project. He told her to take her time, and if it got too late, she should just spend the night there. N'Jobu placed the rice and plantains in the fridge and started reading a book for class. There was no word from his family yet about Bathandwa and T'Challa. Babies always took their sweet time coming into the world.

He watched a little tv and played a few video games.

He was dozing off when the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He leaped up from the couch. A low-frequency vibration.

Only one thing gave him that kind of feeling.

N'Jobu ran out to his balcony and looked up into the sky. He couldn't see anything up there, but he felt it. And it scared him.

His kimoyo beads lit up with his father's signature.

"Baba!"

His father's image shimmered above his wrist.

"My son," his father said.

N'Jobu could hear his mother wailing in the background.

"Baba, what's wrong?"

His father couldn't even speak, his face was filled with so much anguish. His mother came into view, her eyes wet and wild-looking.

"N'Jobu! N'Jobu! We lost her! We lost her!"

His mother collapsed in his father's arms.

####

Author's Notes:

Hi All!

Whew, some of you have let me know how upset you are with N'Jobu! I apologize! That last chapter did go a hard left.

I wanted to see if I could dig these two out of an ugly situation, and it was a way to challenge myself to make N'Jobu less than perfect.

Now, I told myself I was not going to write this first book past 30 or so chapters, but I'm already at 25. So I may have to cheat and make the chapters really long, or just go ahead and make 4 books and have this first one end when Erik is on his way, and then get to the hiding of N'Jobu's family in the second book. What do y'all think? Or maybe just write as many chapters as it takes to finish Califia and N'Jobu's story and then get to Erik? Let me know what you think. I guess if it's fanfiction I can do whatever the heck I want, lol!

As always on every update, I thank you for staying with these two. If you are still angry with N'Jobu and want to leave him, I totally understand and hope you'll come back when Erik's story begins.