The Kingdome games always drew crowds, mostly because you were liable to bump into people you hadn’t seen in a while or could check out who was up and coming on the scene. It also allowed some of the city’s most skilled ballers to come out and showcase their skills. This particular day, the park was especially crowded. Everyone wanted to see the evening game. A squad from out of Brooklyn came through to challenge Harlem’s reining champions for bragging rights. It was one of the most anticipated games of the summer.

Paul was posted up on the corner of 114th and Lenox, watching the parade of chickenheads. He had stopped a tender young thing, rocking a too-short tennis skirt and flip-flops. Her perky breasts peaked out from beneath her baby-doll tank top. His cell phone rang in the middle of his mack game, putting it on pause.

“Excuse me for a minute, ma. I gotta take this,” he said, looking at the caller ID. When he was safely out of earshot, he answered the call. “Hey, boo.”

“Hey, baby. What you doing?” Marlene asked.

“Nothing much, just chilling.”

“Well, while you’ve been busy chilling, did you make it over to see P.J.?”

“I was gonna go earlier, but Rhonda started her shit, so I’ll probably swing by there later.”

“Lord, what was she beefing over now?”

“Something light. P.J. needs a pair of sneakers.”

“Already? Didn’t you just give her some money to buy him sneakers?”

“Mar, you know she tapped into that,” he said as if she should’ve known.

“Paul, if you know she’s not gonna do the right thing, why do you keep setting yourself up?”

“What, I’m not supposed to take care of my seed?”

“Slow your roll, partner. You know I would never allow you to half step,” she checked him. “All I’m saying is that you and Rhonda need to get your shit together and come to some kind of understanding.”

“Oh, you don’t think I’ve been trying to do that?” Paul asked. “There’s no reasoning with that girl.”

“Then take it a step further,” Marlene suggested. “If Rhonda wants to keep playing these fucked-up games, then let a lawyer sort it out.”

Paul sucked his teeth. “I ain’t trying to go to court over this shit.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause that’s for white people. How many black dudes do you see going to court on some custody shit? You know we don’t rock like that.”

Marlene pinched the bridge of her nose. “Paul, you are such an intelligent man, but sometimes you say the stupidest shit. So you mean to tell me that instead of going to court and handling this the proper way, you’re going to keep tolerating Rhonda’s bullshit?”