Read Online A House Is Not a Home by James Earl Hardy - Free Book Online Page B

sittin’ here memorizin’ my lines.”
    â€œCongrats, brutha! What’s it about?”
    â€œGlenn Burke. He was a baseball player.”
    â€œAh. What was he, another Jackie Robinson or somethin’?”
    â€œUh . . . in a way.”
    â€œCool. You deserve it, man. You done paid your dues, overtime. We gotta celebrate. And I just happen to have comps tonight for that spot I was tellin’ you about the other day.”
    â€œNah. I just wanna chill tonight.”
    â€œYou just wanna chill every night.”
    â€œI got a jood reason. I’m gonna be carryin’ a film. I gotta prepare.”
    â€œI know you don’t start filmin’ on Monday.”
    â€œNo, but I can’t take any chances. I also gotta rest up for the party tomorrow.”
    â€œAll you gotta do is be there, yo.”
    â€œDealin’ with a house full of teenagers? I’m gonna need all the rest I can get.”
    â€œYou need to get outta that house.” He sounds like Raheim’s father. They’ve both been on him about holding himself prisoner in the apartment. “Come on. We can have a victory dinner before. My treat.”
    He ate not too long ago but never turns down free food. “A’ight. Where you wanna meet?”
    â€œYou gonna drive into the city?”
    â€œYeah. It’ll be a hassle findin’ a parkin’ space, but I don’t wanna be bothered with public trans.”
    â€œA’ight. You can come by the job to pick me up. I’m gonna be in the office for another hour.” After graduating from Baruch in 1999 with a degree in business administration, Angel won an internship at Nickelodeon that turned into a full-time gig as a production assistant. Last November, he became an assistant producer on The Brothers Garcia .
    â€œI’ll be there around nine.”
    â€œJood. See ya in a bit.”
    â€œA’ight.”
    â€œOne.”
    â€œOne.”

Chapter 7
    â€œW ell it’s about time, Mommie Queer est!”
    â€œGene greeted Mitchell as they embraced at the bar in Dayo’s, a Caribbean/soul-food restaurant on the outskirts of the Vill that the Children have claimed as their own on Friday nights. Mitchell was meeting Gene and his other best friends, Babyface and B.D., there for dinner. Now that all their lives had become so much more busy, they always set aside one night on the weekend each month to get together.
    â€œIf I’m Mommie Queerest, you’re Auntie Mame,” Mitchell shot back.
    â€œIndeed. But the Rosalind Russell version, not Lucille Ball. We all hated Lucy in that. You don’t have the kiddies this eve, so why are you late?”
    â€œJust because the kiddies are away doesn’t mean there isn’t work to be done around the house.”
    â€œAnd just because you’re a housemaker with two-point-five children does not mean you become a hermit.”
    â€œPoint-five?”
    â€œYes. Goldie.”
    â€œOf course.” Gene had purchased a goldfish for Destiny for her fifth birthday.
    â€œAnd how is my Baby?” That’s how Gene refers to Destiny; he’s one of her four godfathers (Babyface, B.D., and Raheim being the others), but knows he’s number one.
    â€œShe’s jood. Are Babyface and B.D. here?”
    He turned to the left. “Over there.” They were seated at a booth. “I had to get my drink.”
    â€œWhere’s the waiter?”
    â€œWe’ve been waiting for him to come back for ten minutes.”
    A buffed Latino gent sauntered by, grinning at Mitchell. Mitchell nodded at him. “Well, food and drink aren’t what’s really on the menu up in here.”
    â€œIt sho’ nuff ain’t. But our waiter is not a smart cookie: I asked for a cranberry and orange juice and the boy brought me a glass of orange juice and a glass of cranberry juice.” This is the strongest thing Gene’ll drink: he gave up the hard