#and even if they did since I wasn't in Charleston (????) and because I used to have a major self harm problem they don't exist for me?

[brunettegirlwrites]

SAY YES TO HEAVEN!

pairing: limbrey!reader x rafe cameron

summary: you’re a sheltered, naive young woman. rafe is the big bad wolf in sheep’s clothing.

you were swinging from the tire swing in your backyard when you first saw rafe. your mother had invited him into your backyard to talk business over a glass of your homemade strawberry lemonade. every time you’d swing forward, rafe caught a glimpse under your dress. he licked his bottom lip at the sight of your white frilly panties. if he squinted hard enough—which wasn’t hard to do under the beaming hot charleston sun—he could see that there was a pink bow at the center.

“honey,” your mother called out to you. “I want you to come meet someone.”

you hopped off the swing, making your way over to the two. rafe gave you a small wave before stuffing his hands in his pockets. trying to be discreet as he fixed his hardening cock.

“this is ward cameron’s son, rafe,” your mother continued. “you remember ward, right? been here a couple of times.”

you nod your head politely. there was a watermelon flavored sucker tucked in between your lips, juice being sucked in at a fast rate. you fiddled with the dainty cross necklace around your neck while you spoke, “nice to meet you rafe cameron.”

and from that moment on, he knew he had to have you.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿ ˚₊

you were supposed to remain pure until marriage, a rule your mother instilled in you since you were a little girl. you always did what you were told. never spoke out of turn. were always home before curfew, rarely even going out to begin with. and in an instant, rafe cameron had you writhing around your sheets as he was face to face with your virgin cunt.

having rafe's fingers inside of you was painful at first. this was something new to you. you always had been scared to explore it yourself. you felt so dirty because the pain aroused you.

“my mama’s gonna hear us,” your voice quivered with fear. you grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled him away, interrupting his tongue from sucking on your throbbing clit.

he tilted his head and squinted his eyes. “yeah?” he leaned in close and slapped your cheek gently. “well I haven’t cum yet so shut up and take it.” he ducked his head back down, this time sticking another finger in and moving it at a rapid pace.

“we're going to get in trouble,” you whined, pushing your back into the pillow that was underneath your hips. your tiny fists slapped at his shoulders, trying to get him to stop. “rafe, please!” the straps of your dress had fallen down your shoulders, exposing your perky untouched breasts.

you held onto his hair with both hands, planted your feet against the mattress, and lifted your hips, attempting to get away. but no matter how hard you tried, your mind couldn’t fight your body’s need to let him do this to you. plus, rafe wasn't letting up. he was determined to get you through your first orgasm. he wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you closer to his mouth and continued his ravenous rage against your delicate bud. you buried your face into your pillow, quiet oh god's leaving your lips as you felt your release clawing its way out.

the coil in your tummy snapped and you could feel the tension flood from you. "rafe, i'm-" he used his free hand to cover your mouth. pulling his face away, he watched as thick creamy juices leaked out of your pussy and onto his fingers.

“take it. taaake it. that’s it, there you go. good girl,” he took his fingers out and messily smeared your arousal all over your swollen clit. your lower body twitched as you squeezed your eyes shut.

he cupped the back of your neck with one hand and used the other to cradle your jaw. you opened your eyes just as he planted a soft kiss on your lips. “did so good for me, sweet girl,” he whispered as he used his thumb to spread your lips apart. he stuck his finger inside your mouth, letting you suck on it like it was your favorite lollipop.

"can't believe this pussy's been hidden for so long," he breathed out. "'m gonna make it all mine," he was serious. even if he had to rip you from your mother's vice, he would.

"now get on your hands and knees," he ordered. "'m gonna fill you up."

there was no way he was letting go that easily.

[smdarling]

Me ~is behind on everything because Unexpected Time with my best friend~ ~(also honestly a fair amount Less Fun reasons but best friend time Helps)

We saw The Greatest Showman and I can’t stop listening to the soundtrack this is the first non-Marvel movie in A While that I’ve just been SO ALL OVER I LOVE IT WITH MY WHOLE ENTIRE HEART I WAS UGLY CRYING THE ENTIRE TIME I’M STILL UGLY CRYING

Me ~has a list of fics I’m working on that I need to finish~

Me ~is thirty seconds from starting a The Greatest Showman AU~

Me @ me: Work on WIPs

Me back @ me: I NEED THAT MOVIE TO BE EVERYTHING 

~staring contest with myself, who will win? Stay tuned!~

[funknrolll]

Focusing on Prince and the song Avalanche: Lesson learned or....??

Hi my music lovers, today we are celebrating the birthday of the undisputed music legend and virtuoso: Prince Rogers Nelson. Since all that is happening these days, I wanted to offer you guys the chance to reflect on these crucial issues. Therefore I chose to focus only on one song in Prince's vault: Avalanche. In my opinion, this piece is quite relevant to what is happening these days. I really hope I do Prince justice. I hope we can learn something from this article and the lesson Prince taught us. Should there be anything, I missed do not think twice to let me know or contact me. Enjoy the article.

In 2002, Prince released One Nite Alone (Solo Piano and Voice by Prince). As the title suggests, the only accompaniment in this album is the piano. Today I want to offer you the chance to reflect on the song Avalanche. Avalanche. The message delivered with this song is compelling, and the lyrics were magistrally written. Moreover, as many people know, Prince was an avid reader and an extremely educated person who had a vast knowledge not only about music but also about history, in this case. Indeed, with these words, the Artist is referring to some historical events to create one of the most MONUMENTAL protests songs in music history. Before I explain this total MASTERPIECE, I need to mention some crucial points. I will never stress enough about this. We all know that Prince was a black man. However, the fact that he, in some interviews, said things like "I was brought up in a black and white world. Black and white, night and day, rich and poor. I always said that one day I was going to play all kinds of music and not be judged for the color of my skin, but the quality of my work" or quoting his song Controversy "I wish there was no black or white" etcetera... It does not mean he was not conscious and aware or proud of being black. This does not mean that he was not aware of what black people had and still have to endure and go through. Indeed, Prince was extremely knowledgeable of everything that I mentioned, and he was proud of being black, and this is something significantly present in his music, in his sense of style, in his words, lyrics, music videos, concerts, and movies. I'm making this point because I have overheard too many people accusing Prince of not embracing his blackness or even being biracial as the new york times erroneously claimed. None of these things are true. I also heard that the Artist was not aware of what black people had and still are going through and that his music was not "politicized enough." This is another big fat lie. This song is proof. Therefore, before writing and describing this MONUMENTAL song, I thought I needed to re-emphasize this significant point. By the way, Prince's mother was NOT Italian. She was a beautiful black woman. Furthermore, as already mentioned, Artist had extensive historical knowledge and was also conscious and aware of how black people have always been exploited and treated. Moreover, Prince was accustomed to speaking his mind and saying what he meant, and just by reading the superlative and poignant lyrics, we could see that the Artist was quite straight-forwarded in writing this piece. Indeed:

He was not or never had been in favor

 Of setting are people free

 If it wasn't for the thirteenth Amendment

 We woulda been born in slavery

 He was not or never had been in favor

 Of letting us vote, so you see...

 Abraham Lincoln was a racist who said

 "You cannot escape from history "Like the snow comin' down the mountain

 That landed on Wounded Knee

 Nobody wants to take the weight 

 The responsibilityHear the joyous sound of freedom

 The Harlem Renaissance

 Hear Duke Ellington and his band

 Kick another jungle jam

 Ooh, do you wanna dance?

 Who's that lurking in the shadows?

 Mr. John Hammond with his pen in hand...

 Sayin' "Sign you're kingdom over to me

 And be known throughout the land!"

 But, you ain't got no money, you ain't got no cash

 So you sign yo name, and he claims innocence

 Just like every snowflake in an avalanche...Like the snow comin' down the mountain

 That landed on Wounded Knee

 Nobody wants to take the weight 

 The responsibility 

This masterpiece begins with a quote taken from the 4th Lincoln-Douglas debate held in Charleston, South Carolina, on September 18, 1858. Lincoln opened his discussion with these words: 

"While I was at the hotel to-day, an elderly gentleman called upon me to know whether I was really in favor of producing a perfect equality between the (slur)  and white people. [Great Laughter.] While I had not proposed to myself on this occasion to say much on that subject, yet as the question was asked me, I thought I would occupy perhaps five minutes in saying something regarding it. I will say then that I am not, nor ever have been, in favor of bringing about in any way the social and political equality of the white and black races, [applause]-that I am not nor ever have been in favor of making voters or jurors of (slur), nor of qualifying them to hold office, nor to intermarry with white people. I will say in addition to this that there is a physical difference between the white and black races, which I believe will forever forbid the two races living together on terms of social and political equality. And since they cannot so live, while they do remain together there must be the position of superior and inferior, and I as much as any other man is in favor of having the superior position assigned to the white race."

This was just the beginning of the speech Lincoln gave, and the words bolded are the exact beginning of the song by Prince (disclaimer: I replaced the racial slurs with this (slur) since I do not want any slurs on my platform). Moreover, as we can see in this song, the Artist was calling out the former President Abraham Lincoln for being racist. As you can see from this speech, HE REALLY WAS A RACIST. Moving on with the speech, Lincoln also said that he was not against slavery, and therefore he did not want to abolish it. Additionally, Prince mentioned the thirteenth Amendment. Before I report the Amendment, I believe it is important to contextualize it. What I am about to write will show one more time that Lincoln was a stone-cold racist, unlike many people were taught in schools. So, during the Civil War, the South USA (which economy was unfortunately still based on slaves working in plantations), wanted to keep a balance of free and slave states to maintain its political power in Congress. Southern slaveholders feared the loss of control for many reasons, including a rational fear that if Northern abolitionists had eventually swayed their representatives to vote to abolish slavery, the South wouldn't have had the votes to stop it. So, on September 22, 1862, President Lincoln warned the Confederate states that if they did not rejoin the Union before January 1, 1863, he would free their slaves. If they had timely surrendered, he would not have issued the Emancipation Proclamation. Therefore, on January 1, 1963, Lincoln "proclaimed" the "end of slavery." Bear in mind that this was as much an act of political/military strategy rather than moral courage.

Additionally, the Emancipation Proclamation freed only slaves held in the eleven Confederate states that had seceded, and only in the portion of those states not already under Union control. Slavery was left untouched in the loyal border states. The Proclamation also expressly exempted parts of the Confederacy (the Southern secessionist states) that had already come under Northern control. Most important, the freedom it promised depended upon the Union (United States) military victory.  The actual abolition of slavery was achieved when the Thirteenth Amendment was ratified on December 6, 1865. The first section of the Amendment declares, "Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime where of the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.". In addition to everything mentioned, the second segment of the speech I bolded is about the right to vote. Eventually, the Artist ends these verses accusing Lincoln of being racist, saying that it is not possible to escape from history. I must say that Lincoln really was A RACIST, and we have always been taught history the wrong way. I also must say that despite the abolition of slavery, black people were never really free, for racism was and still is one of the biggest plagues not just in the USA but all over the world and what we have seen until now is the proof.

Moreover, in the next verses, the Artist mentioned the Harlem Renaissance. For those who do not know that was, I will give a quick explanation of it. The Harlem Renaissance was a cultural, literary, and intellectual movement that fostered a new black cultural identity. This movement flourished in Harlem, New York, after World War I and ended around 1935 during the Great Depression. The movement raised significant issues affecting the lives of African Americans through various forms of literature, art, music, drama, painting, sculpture, movies, and protests. Voices of demonstration and ideological promotion of civil rights for African Americans inspired and created institutions and leaders who served as mentors to aspiring writers. The Harlem Renaissance arose from a generation that had lived through the gains and losses of Reconstruction after the American Civil War. Sometimes the parents or grandparents of those who lived during that historical period were slaves. Many people who lived in the Harlem Renaissance were part of the Great Migration. They moved out of the South into the black neighborhoods of the North and Midwest of the USA. African Americans sought a better standard of living and relief from the institutionalized racism in the South. Others were people of African descent from racially stratified communities in the Caribbean who came to the United States hoping for a better life. Uniting, most of them were their convergence in Harlem, New York City. Furthermore, Harlem was the center of a musical evolution that uncovered amazing talents and created a unique sound that had yet to be paralleled. Jazz was the newest sound, and it attracted both blacks and whites to go to nightclubs like the Savoy Ballroom to hear artists like Duke Ellington, Billie Holiday, and Miles Davis. Jazz was a result of the Harlem Renaissance, which originated from the musical minds of extraordinarily talented African American people. The genre includes traits that survived from West African American music, black folk music forms developed in the New World. In his song, Prince was indeed referring to jazz music and one of its most relevant and most brilliant artists: Sir. Duke Ellington. In the next lines, we see the Artist mentioning John Hammond. Hammond was a white talent scout, record producer, and music critic. This is another excellent example of how history has been distorted. Indeed, if you look upon the net, you will find that this man fought against segregation and racism. However, if you read Frank Kokofsky's book, John Coltrane and the Jazz Revolution of the 1960s, you will learn the truth about the political economy of white domination over black music. In particular, Kokofsky focuses on the relationship between John Hammond, Columbia Records, and the Artist Bessie Smith. Indeed, as Kokofsky writes:

"The first and most important point to emphasize is that, as author Chris Albertson reveals in his biography of Bessie Smith, Hammond signed the singer to a series of contracts with Columbia Records that gave her a small, fixed fee for each performance she recorded and no royalties. Such contracts were apparently standard practice with the executive, for Billie Holiday unequivocally stated in her autobiography, Lady Sings the Blues: 'Later on John Hammond paired me up with Teddy Wilson and his band for another record session. This time I got thirty bucks for making half a dozen sides.' When she protested about this arrangement, it was, according to her, a Columbia executive named Bernie Hanighen – and not John Hammond – 'who really went to bat for me' and 'almost lost his job at Columbia fighting for me.'" 

Hear the joyous sound of freedom

The Harlem Renaissance

Hear Duke Ellington and his band

kick another jungle jam

Ooh, do u wanna dance?

Who's that lurking in the shadows?

Mr. John Hammond with his pen in hand...

sayin' "Sign ur kingdom over 2 me

and b known throughout the land!"

But, u ain't got no money, U ain't got no cash,

So u sign yo name and he claims innocence

just like every snowflake in an avalanche. 

This situation is quite familiar, isn't it? Perhaps Prince had heard or read about this, and therefore he decided to add this fact to this masterpiece.

 Last but not least, another relevant part of this song is the chorus. Indeed, with this brilliantly written chorus, Prince is referring to the massacre of Wounded Knee, where more than 350 Native-American were killed. Indeed, On the morning of December 29, 1890, Chief Spotted Elk (Big Foot), leader of a group of some 350 Minneconjou Sioux, sat in a makeshift camp along the banks of Wounded Knee Creek. The group was surrounded by U.S. troops sent to arrest him and disarm his followers. The atmosphere was tense since an order to arrest Chief Sitting Bull at the Standing Rock Reservation just 14 days earlier had resulted in his murder, prompting Big Foot to lead his people to the Pine Ridge Agency for a safe haven. Alerted to the band's Ghost Dance activities, General Nelson Miles commanded Major Samuel Whiteside and the Seventh Cavalry to apprehend Big Foot and his followers, and the regiment intercepted them on December 28, leading them to the edge of the creek. While confiscating their weapons, a shot pierced the brisk morning air. Within seconds the charged atmosphere erupted as the Indian men rushed to retrieve their seized rifles, and troopers began to fire volley after volley into the Sioux camp. From a hill above, a Hotchkiss machine gun raked the tipis, gun smoke filled the air, and men, women, and children ran for a ravine near the camp, only to be cut down in the crossfire.

More than 200 Lakota laid dead or dying in the aftermath, as well as at least 20 soldiers. Although the story of the Wounded Knee Massacre is well-known, its causes and effects are still an enigma 125 years later. For 19th century Americans, it represented the end of Indian resistance and the conquest of the West. For Native-American, it represented the utter disregard of the U.S. toward its treaty responsibilities, its duplicity, and its cruelty toward Native people. In the 20th century and beyond, Wounded Knee continued to fuel controversy and debate. Notably, what is particularly controversial was and is the impetus and intent of the government that day, the role of the military, and the conflicting ways the tragedy is remembered today. Indeed, from this story, we can see how Prince gave his listener another example of how racism was a persistent plague.

Like the snow comin' down the mountain

that landed on Wounded Knee

Nobody wants 2 take the weight-

The responsibility

Moreover, as I said, the Artist with this MAGISTRALLY written lyrics educates his listener on how racism has always been a persistent, prominent, outraging, and horrifying plague that is still going on today. In addition to that, we can notice Prince's deep and broad historical knowledge, which is something incredibly fascinating and mesmerizing. Moreover, the arrangement of this song, the instrumental and the vocal delivery is among the finest and most poignant he has ever done. Indeed, the Artist with this masterpiece delivers an extraordinarily intimate and intense but yet POWERFUL performance. In my opinion, even though the only instrument played is the piano, its arrangement is outstandingly complex. The blues genre the Artist opted for, also could not have been more following the whole meaning and purpose of the song. Furthermore, the Artist's incredibly broad vocal techniques are perfectly accompanying the meaningful message of the song. Prince, with his ability to shift from a beautiful falsetto to an extremely low chest voice to eventually change to a powerful head voice during the last chorus, is putting into sounds magistrally and vividly a poignant lesson we are still struggling to learn.

Thank you for your attention.💜 Peace. G💜

[blackrosesfanfic]

Chapter 239

Next morning

Trey

I roll over staring at Caden. Why is he in this bed with me? He rolls his naked butt over trying to get a better look at me. I smile. He had smiled once he saw that it was me. I don't know where my mind went but it wasn't right. My son's couldn't ever do without me. They look for me. Wait for me. Get excited to see me.

"Son?" I say grabbing Caden.

"Yes."

I chuckle. "Morning Lane."

He hits the bottom of the bed. "I go see Rose tomorrow."

"You are?"

"Yeah, Mommy take me to see Grandma Rose. Her is."

I smile. He lying. Cammie didn't say that. Lane cuts his eyes towards the bathroom then he drops down out of sight. I lean up looking over the bed at what he is doing. He just had a bunch of cards on the floor. Nothing else.

"Daylan." Cammie snaps.

"I don't know, Mommy."

She sucks her teeth. "What did I say?"

"I don't know." He repeats.

"Pippi?" Lonnie says tapping on the door. "Got you an outfit. Put it on and meet me on the beach. See if you still got it."

He hangs a Walmart bag on the doorknob then he closes the door without hearing an answer. Lane runs to the door grabbing the bag. He digs through the bag.

"My toy?" He whines. "Papa? My toy?"

"Lane!"

He throws the bag behind him going out of the door crying. That's between him and whoever said his name out there. Little bratty butt boy. I glance down at Caden he was sleeping hard. I lay him down by my legs. His eyes pop open and look directly at me. He pouts. I pick him back up.

"Tremaine?"

"Jayla, Baby."

She smacks the bag picking it up. "Do I act like my son? Why does he act like that?"

I chuckle. "Baby, why you mad at the bag?"

"Workout clothes?" She snaps. "He just assume I..."

"Mommy, shoes." Lane says coming in the room acting like they heavy. "Papa said put you shoes on. Now."

Cammie storms out without saying anything. Lane goes about his business. Whatever business that might be. He obviously not upset so he got what he wanted. I lean back cuddling Caden. Let them run about doing stuff. Me and Caden gonna sleep.

"Daddy open." Lane says now at the bed.

"Lane, I told you I would open it." Cammie says nicely from across the room.

"Daddy open it." Lane says pushing something closer to me.

I sit up leaving Caden in the bed. He stays sleep.

"Lane, I love you." Cammie says.

"Love you, Mommy." He says then runs over to her. "Come give you kisses?"

She sucks her teeth. "I thought you said you didn't know what I said, Daylan. You knew what I said all along. Why you acting like that?"

He grabs her neck shoving his face into hers. They just stay like that as I open the mini pancakes in a bag. I feel them. They were warm. I guess he got them from somebody. They had cooked them.

"Jay, Lonnie said stop being a chicken." Rollie says. "Aye, Trey. They cooked breakfast. Fucking Charleston's finest in the kitchen. So she thinks."

Rollie puts a big monster truck down on the floor. I sigh. We left that shit in Georgia for a damn reason. Why the fuck they go and buy him a new monster truck? It turns him into a monster. Loud and energetic. He let's go of Cammie spinning around happy.

"My truck." He sings.

"Rollie." Cammie whines.

Rollie shrugs. "Debra, yo mama, ordered it offline cause Lane said he lost it at the other house. He said real house I think."

"Spoiled by the other family too?" I laugh as both Cammie and Lane leave out. Cammie is going to her mother to fuss about that truck.

"And you seen Cammie?"

I laugh. "Aye, she asked me if Lane acts like her like she wants me to kill myself."

"Pause." Rollie says stepping in the room. "You not thinking..."

"Man, fuck you. Make a joke out of everything."

Rollie shrugs. "If you need to talk about your feelings."

"Let's talk about you growing up in that family getting everything you want and getting bullied for making all A's in school until you..."

"What you say, Mama?" He says walking out the room.

I laugh then lay down with Caden. I don't know my wife's family like I thought. I might not know my damn wife like I thought. She hid her family and now it seems like for no reason. Nothing is like she said it was or I assumed. I never cared about who raised her and who she wanted to impress.

"Caden?" I say looking at him as he kicks me. He stops staring at me then he start kicking me again. "You know your name?"

"Daddy." Lane says at the door. "You eat your food?"

I pick Caden up. "I'm coming."

"Thank you, sir." JJ giggles from the hallway. "Lane, that you truck? Lane?"

"JJ!" Lane yells. "Go get you... JJ come here."

I step into the hall. Lane is sitting on the truck. JJ was running down the hall. Lane gets up running after him. He grabs JJ as JJ stops and slams into him. They both fall out on the floor.

"Lane!" JJ snaps getting up. "Ouch. I telling."

"No." Lane cries.

JJ helps Lane up. "Okay. Okay. I not tell. You sorry?"

"Grandma got you truck."

"For me?"

Lane runs towards Debra's room. Please don't have two trucks. I walk into her room behind the boys. She had two more boxes opening them. This lady had 3 fucking monster trucks. I shake my head walking out. Cammie must not have seen that. They about to tear this house up with those trucks.

Cammie

"So I feel bad about how I acted." Amber says as I walk pass her. "I don't think you should leave cause of... sorry."

I fold my arms across my chest. "Nobody worried about you and your bratty ass."

"Me bratty, Camilla? Okay."

"Eww." I say walking out of the house onto the patio.

"Good morning." Lonnie says.

I cross my arms. "I run on the beach all the time."

"I run in heels all the time."

"And you look ridiculous." I say walking away.

"Rollie?" Lonnie says surprised. "Good morning."

I turn around looking to see where Rollie was. He was standing on the other side of the pool with Jordan. Rollie looks at Lonnie then he looks at me. I smile at him. He nods his head up towards the sky.

"Sup?" Rollie says.

"Jordan?" Lonnie says once again surprised. "Morning, Doll."

"Good morning, Pop." She says sad. "I lost my favorite shoes."

Lonnie nods. "Maybe Lane has seen them. He is a jokester. A very clever one."

Jordan jumps over the chair she was near. "I bet you Lane has them."

"It's always difficult to talk about personal issues with people who should already know how you feel." Lonnie says then he starts walking towards the beach. "How long has it been?"

"Since?"

He smirks. "Since I beat your ass and ran longer than you?"

I laugh. "Lame. Never."

He starts jogging down the beach. I don't remember the last time that we went running. Last time we ran I was about to start my sophomore year in college. We used to go on daily runs during the summer. We started a year after he married my mother. Lonnie has always just been there. Never trying to be my father just always trying to help me through whatever I was going through. He became my dance couch even though he couldn't tap his finger on beat. He carried my equipment and shined my boats when I was on the marching band. He cheered for me even after cursing my coach out for making us wear hooker clothes and doing slutty dances. I stop running. He throws his hands up in the air.

"Less than a mile!" He cheers.

"I got Mommy issues." I say crossing my arms to hold my breasts.

He continues to do a two step. "Hell yeah for karma. Getting old and responsibilities."

"Shut up." I say turning back to the house.

"What happened?" He asks coming up as I start to cry.

He hugs me. "Too harsh? We softened up too?"

"No Lame-o." I cry. "Get off of me."

"Can't talk?"

"I was thinking about life and everything that... How could he be so stupid Lonnie? I would do anything to stop my son from feeling like I did. I went as far as keeping his father from him cause I didn't want him to feel like I felt. How could he selfishly set out to make my son feel like that? Just so stupid."

Lonnie rubs my shoulder. "Men are weak baby. Women hype us up. Give us more credit and responsibility than we are capable of. He is stupid for misjudging his ability. But you can't blame him for being human. We not perfect. That's why we need God."

"We really talking about church right now?"

"When the last time you been as a family? I am inviting you to church cause that's your answer. God. No man is going to fix your problem. You need God. Your husband needs forgiveness that only God can give him. Being so weak. You can only fix a wound temporarily but it takes God to heal a wound that deep."

I suck my teeth. "Should I say Amen? Choir?"

He chuckles hitting my arms. "Stop being a faggot. Let's run another mile."

"Did you call me a faggot?" I yell.

"A queer? Maybe I need to pray."

"You do. You cant say those words like that." I snap walking back to the house. "I can't do this. I didn't pump first. You go pray."

He claps his hands behind me. "With your husband?"

I glance back at him. "He is a religious person, Lame. Maybe he will pray with you."

"I will invite myself to talk with him about his problems. Instruct him on a plan to get back in church. Give him a prayer."

"You do that Frank." I shrug.

He catches up with me. "I'm really here because I heard about what happened a few years ago. I mean I heard about your husband last night. It seems like a lot to dump on a person but we have to talk about it. I suggest..."

"I pray?"

"No. Give me the names." He says like duh.

I shake my head. "No."

"Because your husband is famous?"

"Because they are famous." I say low. "It's too much. They have lawyers and public reps that make sure stuff like that stays hidden. No."

He puts his hands on his hips. "They don't know me."

"I said no."

"I'll do it my way, Pippi. So you don't want my prayer?"

"Be my husband's preacher. You creepy."

He laughs unnecessarily hard. "Lane told me to shut up with my long prayer."

"When did my baby say that?"

"I was on the phone with a member of the church praying for her father this morning. He said Pop, don't take a long time. Be quiet."

I roll my eyes and start walking. "Y'all let my baby say whatever his grown self wants. He is 2. That was disrespectful."

"I supposed to do what to him for expressing himself? He didn't want to hear my prayer about being sick."

"Like you beat your daughter. Pop why is she in Georgia not raising her daughter? Her bad daughter at that?"

He sucks his teeth. "I gave her to God."

"God the one gave her to you. No take backs. She your daughter. She needs to raise her child herself. When I finish with this dancing show I'm going to get that little girl and straighten her butt out. Nobody act like they can handle her."

"Congratulations on that. I saw your commercial and I recorded. Played it for the church. We going to have a night dedicated to your show. Make revival short."

I roll my eyes. "Don't make God mad at me."

"He gone be mad cause Imma be praying while watching."

"You really, Lame."

He giggles like I gave him a compliment. I keep walking towards the house.