“I don’t even have the strength to do this tonight,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Nigga, you ain’t gotta do shit. Your son is home safely, so you can excuse yourself,” she said, giving Reese a high five.

“Rhonda, don’t be in here stunting like I won’t bust ya head for you,” Paul warned her.

“Please, you ain’t shit to me, so you ain’t got no reason or right to put your hands on me!” she said, way louder than she had to.

“Everything okay over here?” Von walked over. He had a half-empty Corona dangling from his hand. He was staring at Paul like he was trying to decide if he was going to frog up or not.

Paul tried to keep his voice calm when he addressed him. “My dude, this ain’t got nothing to do with you, so just go on back in the cut and finish your beer.”

Von screwed his face up. “I’m saying, I see you over here getting loud with my shorty, so I gotta figure it’s something that requires a man’s attention.”

Paul looked from Von, who was flaring his nostrils, to Rhonda who was wearing a smug grin. The old Paul was banging against his chest, begging to be loosed upon the big-lipped kid and his chickenhead baby’s mother, but looking at his son’s confused face, he knew he couldn’t wild out.

“Your shorty?” Paul gave him a sad look. “Whatever, my man. Like I said, this is between me and my son’s mother, so fall back.”

By now, someone had turned the music down and everyone was watching. Von knew he couldn’t go out without making a show of it. “Duke, you don’t know me well enough to be telling me what I should do.”

Paul saw that diplomacy was getting him nowhere, so he changed his tactic. “Sheila, could you please take P.J. next door for a minute?” he said in a voice that was entirely too calm.

“Come on, Paul, let me just walk you to the elevator,” Sheila pleaded, seeing the glare in his eyes. She had known Paul for quite a number of years, so she knew the ugliness when it was about to make a guest appearance.

Paul smiled at Sheila as if everything was cool. “Don’t worry, baby, I ain’t gonna wild out. I just got some things I want to say to Rhonda and I don’t like to argue around P.J.”

Sheila looked from Paul to Rhonda and knew that there wasn’t much she could do to stop the storm that was brewing. “Come on, baby,” she said, leading P.J. by the hand to the door. When she looked back at Paul over her shoulder, he was smiling broadly.