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“Daddy, can I come?” Mem pepped up and asked. Her voice shook like she thought the man would take me out to the back deck and execute me or some shit. “Cigar smoke doesn’t bother me.”

I put my hand on my baby’s thigh. “Mem, let me and your father have a private conversation. You stay in here with your mother and sister, okay?”

I knew she wasn’t happy with that response, but she’d be alright. “Okay,” she said in a whiny tone. “We’ll clear the table and get dessert ready.”

I leaned over, kissed her cheek, then put my lips to her ears. “Thank you, baby. I love you.”

I felt the shudder of her body through my hand that was still on her thigh. It was the first time that I’d said the words plainly in a sentence. She glanced at me. In a soft voice, she responded. “I love you too.”

Man Talk . . .

The back deck must have been Mr. Smith’s domain because nothing about it said that it was where they spent family time. Well, a portion of the back deck. The part of the deck that he took us to was completely secluded, away from the main deck. The masculine energy in the space was strong, and I was sure that the lighting was perfect for the purpose of the area. That was understandable in my mind, since he was a man whose life was surrounded by the women he created and the woman he created them with.

“Is this your man cave?” I asked him. I settled on the couch.

He looked around with a chuckle. “Is it that obvious? What gave it away?”

I tittered. “The number lock on the door to enter. Also, my baby was a little too eager to want to come in here. Has she ever been in here?”

He walked over to a cabinet, used a key, then opened it. From where I sat, I could tell that it was a humidifier. The fact that he had one told me a lot about him. He wasn’t an amateur when it came to this cigar life. He didn’t answer my questions until he sat what we needed to enjoy the cigars on the table in front of us.

“If Memoree Layne or Milan Renee have been in here, it was without my permission or knowledge. They’ve known since I built this section of the deck over almost twenty years ago that this space was off-limits to them,” he informed me. He handed me a cigar and cutter.

I nodded. “I guess your wife has a level of access. You didn’t mention her when you said the space was off-limits.”

He smirked. “She only comes in here when we need to have very special conversations.” He lit his cigar after it was cut. Once he was done, he glanced at me. “If you know what I mean.”

I knew exactly what that meant. For a second, I wished I didn’t. If I though hearing about my mother’s sex life was uncomfortable, then it was even more uncomfortable to hear about my woman’s parents’ sex life. Yeah, this wasn’t going to work at all.

Change the subject. I wanted to get back to the topic that brought us out here. “So tell me, Mr. Smith, how did you handle having a daughter with albinism?”

He blew smoke out as he gazed blankly into the evening sky. We sat there in a comfortable silence for I wasn’t sure how long. “I handled it one second at a time. When she was born, it was confusing as fuck, I’ll admit. No one goes into having children, thinking that they are going to have a child with what people perceived as a disability. Me and my wife often joke that it must have been God’s divine plan that she was in the field that she was.”

“What kind of doctor is your wife?” I never thought to ask Mem. That was a slip on my part.

Mr. Smith smiled. “She’s a pediatric ophthalmologist. She specializes in diagnosing and treating eye and vision conditions in youngins. When Memoree Layne was born, she was a little over two years into her medical field. I’m sure you know her condition comes with some vision restrictions.”

“Mem and I have discussed it. So what did you do if people talked shit about her? I know kids can be assholes, but so can grown-ass people who should know better.” You expected kids to be assholes about shit they didn’t understand. Adults should know better and how to properly ask questions, but that was not always the case.

He lifted a shoulder to his ear. “I’ve never been one that was easily moved by the words of others. As long as they didn’t issue threats or touch my girls, then all could be ignored. There was only two times in Memoree Layne’s life that I went to a nigga’s ass behind her. Like I said, threats are never ignored.”

“I understand not being easily moved by words. In the field that I’m in, I deal with a lot of privileged individuals who talk out the side of their necks. They want a reaction, and I have to be a man who understands that I have shit to lose if I do react in an adverse way.” My shoulders shrugged.

It wasn’t every day that you met a Black man who hustled hard in the financial industry. If you were in the financial industry, regardless of the concentration, there were two names that reigned supreme when it came to Black dollar power. No one fucked with Khiaere Washington and Trell Smith. Hell, I made money over money on my own account and still had the common sense to invest with Washington-Smith Brokerage Firm.

Mr. Smith sat forward in his seat. “I respect that. I wanted to say this to you, Ledger. When it comes to my daughter, I want you to fuckin’ react. See, that last nigga that she was with, I knew something was off about him. When I mentioned it to my baby, it was like I added adhesive glue to her side so she could stick to him more.”

We both snickered. “She told me about her last relationship. Some niggas ain’t shit.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure if she was going to bounce back from that shit. The whole ordeal also placed a wedge between her and her sister. Milan Renee lives her life proud and out loud for her followers. Sometimes, we do have to remind my little baby that everyone doesn’t want their life to play out on social media.” Mr. Smith lifted the glass of liquor that he brought to the porch with him.

We sat there silently for a few beats before I cleared my throat. “Mr. Smith, one thing that I can promise you is that I love your daughter. I would never in this life or the next do anything that would hurt her. We haven’t been together for a very long time, but I don’t need forever to figure out that she’s my forever. She will be my wife sooner than everyone thinks.”

His head tilted to the side. “I feel like that was a roundabout way to ask for my permission. Is that what that statement just was?”

“I guess it was. We can go ahead and get it out of the way so that when I do ask, I’ll know that I can do so with your blessing. My baby wants a private proposal, not a whole production.”

He smiled softly. “That sounds like my baby girl,” he mumbled. He stared at me for a beat before he lowered his head. When it rose, he wore a smile. “I like you, Ledger. I’ve done my research and think that you are a good match for my daughter. I can tell by the way she looks at you that she loves the hell out of you.