Father's Day

“I don’t know why we all gotta be matching,” Nutty complains as he steps into the living room, pulling on his collar.

“Y’all not. Each daddy and kid has their own color,” Macy quips, rolling her eyes.

“Okay, but why is mine pink? I’m light-skinned, this shit washing out my complexion.”

“Nigga come on and sit down. You know Sadé don’t have too much time before she starts wilding,” Shad stresses, taking his seat.

The Father’s Day shoot was Brina’s idea. With so many of their friends having children, she thought they should memorialize it. Casey and the twins wore navy blue. Shad, Sadé, and Mason have on purple. Reem and Angel have on red. Turk, Rue and Deuce won the poker game, and got to wear forest green.

Nut, Denver, Anaïs, and Austin got the short end of the stick with pink.

“You were gonna be ugly no matter what, Nutty,” Denver says, sticking out his tongue.

Nutty flinches at him, faking like he’s going to launch Austin at him. The little boy giggles as drool leaks out of his lips.

“Patrick!” Dal snaps, rushing over to wipe her son’s face.

“C’mon, now. I gotta be in East Kenton by three,” Turk complains. Patience and her father are back thick as thieves, and Apache Beverly’s Father’s Day Block Party is legendary.

Reem and Set exchange a glance, both smirking at each other. Cody keeps reaching for Angel, so she hands him one of her barrettes.

Nutty and Denver settle down. The older boys stand behind their fathers, while Foe Dub sits in stools with the babies in their laps.

The girls ring out different oohs and awws, snapping their own pictures on their phones.

“Y’all niggas finally ready?” Ty asks, fiddling with his camera. The set up is in Nutty’s living room, but all the photography equipment is Ty’s, from when he called himself trying to be an influencer.

Don’t ask.

“You sure you don’t have no kids hiding? We won’t judge.”

Ty flips off Turk. “You got me confused with Rico. Ain’t no woman alive worthy enough to be my baby mama… ‘cept maybe Autumn.” He winks at Autumn, earning a scoff as Patience reaches up to slap the back of his head.

“I’m playing! I’m playing! Get him! Aight, Ima take a lot so just try to hold still and smile. Y’all fathers right now, not gangstas. On three.”

Of course, as Ty counts down, Cameron thinks it’s the best time to reach out and pull on Austin’s hair, making him wail.

“Unt, unt, get yo Bebe kid, Set! Austin don’t let her ass punk you!” Nutty grabs Austin’s little arm and makes him whack Cam back. 

That gets Cody’s attention. He starts yelling and trying to climb over Set to get to Austin, murder in his toddler eyes.

Cody is all smiles until Cam is crying. Then he’s out for blood.

“Uncle Set, get your kids. I fight babies,” Anaïs says as she flips her hair. Denver holds her in her place snickering.

“They ghetto as fuck,” Reem mumbles. Angel nods, smiling at her daddy like she knows what he’s talking about.

“Well, the only people who look decent is Turk and my godbaby Angel. But since y’all not paying, y’all gone take what I give you,” Ty announces before turning off his camera.

The girls groan as the men get up. Deuce initiates a game of tag and he and Anaïs are off. Denver hops on his phone, following them out.

“We not invited to this block party? I want some free food,” Nut frowns.

“So fuck my mama, who’s been slaving over a hot stove all morning huh?” Reem mugs Nutty. 

His eyes bug out. “You got Ms. Trina to make her shrimp and grits? So what the fuck we waiting for then?” he rushes out the living room with a giggling Austin.

“Y’all ain’t tell me Ms. Trina cooking. C’mon girls, go get Deuce. Sooner we get back the better. Don’t let that nigga eat all the food, Reem.” 

Reem just shrugs, lowkey forgetting it was supposed to be a surprise. Katrina learned many things from her grandmother, cooking being one of them. Last year he kept it to himself, getting full off crawfish étoufée, fried catfish, grits, and chargrilled oysters all by himself, but this year she wanted to treat the boys for some reason.

“We can head over now?” Set asks as Brina takes Cam from him.

“Yup. Y’all can follow me.”

---

Katrina really threw down. A big ass pot of gumbo lay simmering in the kitchen as the dads got their seconds, thirds, and fourths. She only made her shrimp and grits for Reem, which he devoured way before the Father’s Day shoot.

Not for the first time, Katrina has looked around her remodeled apartment and thought she needed more space. The Birch has been her home since she was born, and though it’s taken away almost everyone she’s ever loved, she never had any aspirations of leaving. 

But as the boys and their girls crowd the couches and her own friends–Sheryl, Sarge, Lala, Rone, and Ayesha play cards in the dining room, maybe more space isn’t a bad thing after all.

Turk and his brood come in, and seeing him holding little Rue as Deuce drags Patience inside pulls the corners of her mouth upward.

Everyone–except Rico, who still refuses to leave Belize, is finally here.

As they get settled, Katrina walks over to her phone and turns off the music. Then, using a special app, she flickers the lights to get everyone’s attention.

“What’s wrong, mama?” Reem asks, concerned. He always makes sure to speak with his lips when her hearing aids are low, but for this, she knows she needs to turn them up.

It’s easier for her to speak if she can hear herself.

“Can, uh, everyone here me? Back there?”

“Yes girl,” Lala playfully quips. They’d always known each other since they were the same age, but it wasn’t until Ty and Reem met at school, that they became close. Now they’re like sisters.

“Anyways,” Katrina drawls. “All of the fathers are here, so I wanted to say something. All of you are second, third, and fourth generation Birch Babies. Which means that your parents all grew up together. I was young, and deaf, but contrary to popular belief, I was outside on the courts and in the mix like everyone else. Khaliq and I were enrolled in Bea Atkins’ daycare, where Cass and Boog would watch us together. Carrie used to do my hair. Candy and Lala loved keeping me in the loop of what was happening in the general ed classes… and Ty, your mama and aunt took the Birch by storm.” She shakes her head as countless memories growing up with her fallen friends assault her mind’s eye. Life was never a fairytale, but there was a time where they were all alive, they were all here, looking out for one another, before real life, responsibilities, and vices got in the way. 

Back when Cass and Bishop were best friends. Back when Candy wasn’t stunting anyone older than her. Back when the Birch Babies would just beef with other South Kenton kids, and not trying to break into the drug game.

Before Katrina’s parents died, and Ghost went to jail, and Carrie hooked up with Pretty Tony.

There was a moment where everything was kind of okay.

Katrina wipes a stray tear and looks out into her family. “You boys have made me so proud. All of you have risen above unimaginable circumstances, without much guidance at all. To see you now, having families of your own, different businesses, staying out of trouble, as much as you can anyway… it truly warms my heart. It makes me proud to be a Birch Baby. If you haven’t heard it, know that you are all appreciated, and I know my friends are looking down on you, bragging to all the other angels.”

Lala whoops as the older generation and the girls clap for them. Peanut and Shad discreetly wipe their faces, while Turk and Ty rag on them.

Reem stands and comes to hug his mother. “You getting sentimental in yo old age,” he jokes.

She swats him away, chuckling. “This old woman will still take you across her knee!”

“Please; I never got no whoopings.”

Katrina’s eyes shine as she looks up at her oldest son. The one who stepped up at such a young age to help her raise his baby brother, who against her wishes, avenged her youngest son’s senseless death.

Katrina and Reem have always been more friends than anything, since they’re only fifteen years apart. In a world where she should have hated him and everything he stood for, her love for him outshined all voice and reason. Kareem was hers, and even if he strayed from how she wanted him to be, he’s still more than perfect in her eyes.

“No,” she whispers, “I never had to discipline you. You’ve always been the best son, and now you’re the best father.”

Reem’s smirk morphs into a boyish grin as he kisses his mother’s temple. 

“Okay, okay! I’m turning these things back low. You need me, tell Reem,” Katrina announces, garnering laughs from the house.

The boys each take turns hugging Katrina. When it’s Set’s turn, he hugs her a little tighter than the others. When she pulls back, his stormy gray eyes are conflicted.

“It’s always weird hearing about my mama and pops. I feel like I missed so many signs of their bond.”

Katrina shakes her head, rubbing her hands up and down his arms. “You know they loved you, and you know they loved each other. Life fucked us all up, some beyond repair. But you all are getting it right in this generation. That’s what matters.”

Set smiles, absorbing everything she says. When she’s satisfied he understands her, she lets him go, turning her aids down and scooping up Angel, who squeals in her arms.

Foe Dub may have started off as a bunch of fatherless boys, but that cycle has been killed, taking an eternal rest like their enemies. As men, they show up, making sure every day their children will never know they struggles they did.