Hawk

10 - Reminiscing

Hawk

“How’s fatherhood treating you?”

“I’ve had a couple of days to get used to the idea, Roman. It was kinda dropped on me.”

Roman, Wrench, and I are drinking beer on my grandparent’s porch. Not that I’ll have more than two. I promised Brooke I’d listen out for Gabe. I could tell at dinner that she wasn’t feeling too good. I think everything that’s happened over the past couple of days has finally caught up to her. She needs sleep; she’ll feel better then. I hope. She didn’t have enough insulin in her system after having Gabe and was given injections to help. I think Brooke is still feeling the effects of that. However, the hospital doctor said that breastfeeding Gabe can help.

“Can’t believe you knocked someone up.” My little brother laughs behind his beer bottle.

“Can’t believe you haven’t.” I counter back.

Roman laughs and slaps Wrench on the back. “You walked into that, little brother.”

Roman isn’t our brother; he’s our cousin, but we’ve always referred to each other as brothers. Same with Stryker. However, that has more to do with the fact that my parents brought him into our home when he was nineteen and the fact his son calls my parents grandma and grandpa.

“Fuc.k you guys. I know how to wrap it up.”

“So do I.”

“Sure, Roman.” My brother rolls his eyes, and I laugh at the two of them. Fifteen-year age gap, but you’d never know it with how Roman acts sometimes.

“He’s beautiful, though,” I smile at my brother. “Looks just like you. Not as dark...”

“Asshole,” I laugh. “I’m not dark.”

“Darker than me.”

“Aww,” Roman mocks. “Is the little white boy jealous that he didn’t get his big brother’s light brown skin?”

“Fuc.k you, you piece of shi.t!”

These two drive me nuts, but it’s been a running joke with the three of us since Wrench was a little boy. Both Roman and I got the tanned skin. Not as dark as our mother’s, but our skin is light brown. Roman has bright green eyes, so as you can imagine, the women fall at his damn feet. I’ve heard many people, men and women, say how handsome he is and that he looks like he belongs on the cover of a magazine. One or two have even mentioned that you can’t look away when you look at him. His features mesmerize a person.

I can’t see it myself; he’s my cousin. Of course, I can see he’s a handsome prick, but he takes after his mother, especially with those bright green eyes.

Ace, Roman’s cousin on his father’s side, always said Roman had been dipped in gold when he was born. That Roman has golden balls, and that’s why he can do no wrong in the eyes of any woman. Especially the women in our family.

I have light brown eyes like my mother, mocha skin, and wavy hair. I might not have gotten the tight curls, but neither did my mom. I look just like her, so people have pointed out more than once, and as my mother is beyond beautiful, and I’m not embarrassed to say that about my own mother, I’m proud to look like her.

It wasn’t much fun for me as a teenager hearing from my high school friends every damn day how hot my mother was. This caused me to punch out more than one kid in my time.

I suppose it could have been worse; I punched a couple of kids out for the racist shi.t they threw at me about my black mother and white father. There were a few parents who brought their kids up with racist values. It’s wrong, but I suppose everyone has their own opinion. It’s not always the right opinion, but still.

I know already that my son will be maybe a shade lighter than I am, or perhaps he’ll be a shade darker, but it’ll be evident, like it is with me, that he has black heritage.

Then there’s Wrench with his blue eyes and white skin like our father. Hell, he’s our father’s double and looks just like him. Handsome prick. I’ve seen the pictures of my father when he was Wrench’s age. He was handsome, and I can see why my mother fell for him.

Don’t get me wrong, Wrench doesn’t look like Snow White or anything; his skin isn’t that pale; he’s tanned, but we like to make fun of him. It makes him angry, and seeing Wrench angry is always funny. Not so much if he freaks out and starts beating the shi.t out of everyone and everything he comes into contact with, but we know when enough is enough.

I clasp my brother’s shoulder. “You’re perfect the way you are, Wrench. You know who you are and where you came from. Be proud of who you are, little brother.”

I narrow my eyes while looking between Wrench and Roman. They’re both looking at me like I’ve grown two heads.

“What?”

“Where did that come from?”

My little brother looks at me. His eyes tell me that he’s genuinely confused about what I’ve just said.

Have I never said anything like that to him before?

“Your brother just became a father.”

We all turn to see Pops walking through the screen door, leaning heavily on his cane. Roman moves out of his seat and helps Pops sit down. Roman then pulls up another chair and sits down.

“Every man changes when he becomes a father.”

I hand Pops a beer after opening it for him. He takes a long drink, swallows it, and sighs happily.

“I am an old man now,” We each smile. He’s been saying the same thing for years. Sure, he’s getting on in years, but he still has years left in him. “Six males share my blood. My son’s, you three, and that sweet baby angel in there. Never in my life have I worried about any of you. I knew you’d be strong. Knew you’d all know right from wrong. Knew you’d respect women the way I taught you all. Now it’s your turn to teach that baby in there the same thing.”

He takes me by the shoulder and squeezes.

“You’ll be a good father, Hawk, just as you were a good boy your whole life. I don’t care what you get up to in your little club. Always in my heart, you three will be the best thing that ever happened to me, along with my sons.”

“Pops,”

“It’s okay, Roman; this is just how I feel. This one,” He points to Wrench. “Always been my Emelda’s favorite,”

Wrench smirks to himself. Prick, he’s always known it because she’s never made any secret about it.

“He was a sickly baby. Taylor was always so scared he wouldn't make it. However, he was strong, just like Jack and me tell her all the time. Emelda, she just couldn’t stop herself from babying him.”

Roman pinches Wrench’s cheek while making baby noises at him, much to my brother’s annoyance, causing me to laugh, just as Gran comes through the door.

“Leave my grandson alone, you rotten lot.”

“Aww, grama’s little boy.” Both Roman and I mock.

Once the laughter dies down, Pops clasps Roman’s hand in his. “This young man was our first-born grandson.” Like none of us knew that. “As much as your grandmother wanted to smother him like every other grandchild that came along...”

“I didn’t get a look in.” My grandmother rolls her eyes with a smile on her face. “My first grandson and I couldn’t get near him. The second Leona brought Tallon home,” I notice Roman narrow his eyes playfully. He hates anyone calling him by his given name. Not that he minds our grandparents calling him Tallon. “I lifted him out of his little seat and kissed his chubby cheek, only to have Leroy take him from me and never give him back. They were like best friends. As soon as Roman could walk, Leroy had him fishing by the lake.”

“He loved it. Didn’t you, boy?”

Roman laughs. “Always, Pops.”

He used to take us all fishing. I think it was only my brother who hated it. Only my brother, who used to cause trouble for us all while we were down by the lake. He even fell in once. He was five, and Pops, even in his late fifties, dived right in and saved my brother’s life.

Wrench wasn’t breathing when Pops pulled him out. Roman had run back to the house to get help. I watched helplessly at eight years of age as my grandfather blew air into my baby brother’s lungs, then as he pressed his palms down on Dominic’s chest. He never gave up until water came spurting out of my brother’s mouth.

I finally let go of the breath I was holding inside of me as Pops held Dominic close to his chest.

‘It’s okay, Dom, Pops is here. You’re safe now, little man.’

‘Mommy.’ My brother sobbed. Yeah, he was a momma’s boy through and through.

‘Dominic!’ My mother screamed his name as she fell to her knees next to her father and dragged my brother away from him.

She never let my brother come fishing with us again. She was too afraid something terrible would happen to him.

Spoiled brat.