After serving four years in prison for an incident in Miami, a 32 year old Nathaniel Casey is released back into the world without a place to rest his head. He is forced to stay with his daughter's mother, Monica. Although their past history was swe...
After a long flight back to his hometown, Nate crashed at the only place he'd be able to rest easy, his baby mother's house. Monica didn't come in until late that night with a sleeping Tamia on her hip. When she landed eyes on Nathaniel, she rolled her eyes. The feeling was mutual but, she wouldn't dare leave him out on the street. Once Monica put their daughter down in her bedroom, she returned to the living room where Nathaniel stood looking at photos.
"Why the fuck you ain't tell me you was coming? I could have had company over here." Monica snapped snatching the frame from his grasp.
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*Monica*
"I called you two weeks in advance lettin' you know that I was coming but all I got was the voicemail and you better not have no niggas around my daughter Monica." He warned.
Nathaniel didn't care about what Monica did with her free time but when his kid was around all of that hoe shit was out of the window. He hadn't been inside all of thirty minutes and the feeling of hatred for her had surfaced. The reminder of not having a place to stay made him keep his cool.
I need to hit up my nigga Dave cause I can't do this shit with her ass. He thought.
"Nigga, you in my shit so, lower your fucking voice. You ain't been here for four years and all of a sudden you think your opinion matters, well, it's not needed. Not now, or ever." Monica turned to leave but stopped. "And, you need to be up in the morning to walk her to school, I got other shit to do." She stomped out of the living room and slamming her bedroom door.
"Sorry ass excuse for a mother." He said aloud.
He took the cushions from the couch and pulled out the bed. Taking a few things to shower, Nathaniel headed to the hall bathroom and closed the door behind him.
She acts like I've never tried to do my job as a father while I was locked up, I don't understand what her issue is. That's coo though I'm gonna get my angel outta here and away from her ass. He thought as he turned on the shower.
After a decent shower and a little of Monica's leftover cooking, Nate laid down in on the couch. Just as he was drifting off to sleep, the sound of the refrigeration opened. He closed his eyes again but they were lifted by a pair of small hands.
"Excuse me, mister." The little voice whispered. "If you are not my daddy you need to go, now." Her soft voice was laced with attitude which made Nathaniel inwardly smirk.
My shorty know I don't fucking play. He thought playfully snoring like he didn't hear.
"I know you heard, mister." She folded her arms.
"Who you talking to like that, Tamia Ali?" Nate asked making her gasp.
The shock of hearing that familiar tone after all these years shook her. Tears streamed from her eyes, Tamia may have been a four year old but thanks to her grandfather she knew exactly who the man in front of her was. Dad. He looked a lot rougher than in his pictures but that didn't stop her from hugging his neck.
