Page 2 of Rags to Vegas

CRENSHAW MALONE

I smiled at my twin nieces as they sang some Disney song using the karaoke machine that I’d gotten them for Christmas. When they were done, I clapped and even threw in a whistle. My brother, Bryan, entered the room with two drinks in hand.

“Okay, you know there are no kids allowed in the man cave, but I made an exception. It’s bedtime. Give me a kiss and scram.”

“Ah man,” Nori sighed while Naraya stuck her bottom lip out in a serious pout.

I extended my arms, and they walked into them. “Goodnight. Sleep tight.” I gave each one a forehead kiss, and they repeated the action with their father. Once they were gone, he handed me a drink. As soon as he parted his lips, I shook my head.

“I don’t need to hear it. You’ve been asking me the same questions and giving me the same speeches for almost a year now. I’ll get married and have kids when the time is right. I’m not even in a relationship. What am I rushing for?”

“Because we aren’t getting any younger. The twins are already five, and Alisa is pregnant again. Due in seven months. At this rate, we’ll never have kids close in age. You and I are only a year apart. I want our kids to be close in age.”

That got a chuckle out of me. “Bro, I love you, and that would be dope if it occurred naturally. But I’m not going to run out and find someone to impregnate because you keep Alisa knocked up.”

“We’ve been together for eight years, and this is only her second pregnancy. The first time, we just got a two for one deal. You’ll be thirty in one month. Time is ticking my boy.”

I shook my head and sipped my drink. “You trying to hit the club Thursday night? I have one more night in me before my thirty-day detox.” I chose to ignore my brother’s comment about my age because I wasn’t on anyone’s timeline except my own.

Bryan walked over to the entertainment center in his man cave and pulled a joint from his stash. “Why the thirty-day detox?”

My shoulders hiked into a light shrug. “Just feel like it’s time.

One thing about the NBA is it taught me discipline.

I didn’t drink too much, hang out, or indulge in other things, during the season because I was focused on being my best. Since I no longer play, I feel like I have these long stretches of smoking, drinking, and clubbing.

I just want to get back in the gym. Treat my body a little better. ”

“I’m proud of you, king,” Bryan bobbed his head while flicking the lighter he’d pulled from his pocket. “If you had a woman, you wouldn’t spend so much time clubbing.”

“I promise I’m about to stop visiting you. In fact, I’ll only come see the girls when you aren’t here. I don’t need the lectures. If a fast-food server gets my order wrong, you’ll tell me that if I had a woman, I’d stop eating out so much.”

“I mean…” Bryan’s voice trailed off, and I kissed my teeth.

After tossing back the remainder of my drink, I cleared my throat to ease the slight burn from the alcohol. “Pass the joint, so I can hit it a few times and leave. I’m done with you for the night.”

Bryan chuckled and pulled from the joint. When he spoke, his voice was strained due to the marijuana smoke he was holding hostage in his lungs. “I’ll go out with you though. I just have to start buttering Alisa up tonight.”

With a chortle, I shook my head. “That’s the real reason you want me to be tied down. You don’t have any freedom, and you don’t want me to have any either. Imagine me having to ask permission to hang out with my people.”

Bryan released the smoke, took another toke, and passed the joint to me. “It’s more so about respect. I don’t really have to ask permission, but we’re a team. I can’t just move how I want to move.”

After pulling from the joint a few times, I passed it back to him and stood up. “Yeah, I’m good on that, G but you have fun with it. I’m about to head to the house.”

“See. You’re about to go home to that big empty house alone, and I’m about to go cuddle with my gorgeous wife.”

His comment made me frown. “First off, I don’t ever want to hear you sound that hype about cuddling.

” My frown deepened. “Second, I can search through my contacts and have the flavor of the night pulling up at my gate before I even get home. Doesn’t sound like such a bad life to me. ” I held my palm out for him to slap.

“Those hoes don’t love you though.” Bryan’s tone was somber and while I knew he was joking; I snatched my hand away and turned my back on him.

As I ambled away, I threw up the peace sign. “I’m out.”

My brother’s mancave had its own entrance, so we didn’t have to walk through the house to enter or leave.

I knew the twins were asleep, and I was sure Alisa was asleep as well, so I didn’t feel the need to say goodbye.

As I walked toward my Maserati, all I could do was shake my head.

When I was in the NBA, nobody bothered me too much about settling down and getting married.

But since an injury ended my career, all my father, brother, and sister-n-law ever seemed to want to talk about was me getting married and having kids.

My parents were married for twenty-one years before my mother passed away due to complications from Lupus.

She died two months after I was drafted into the NBA, and I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it.

My father had always instilled in me to be strong, but my mother’s death damn near broke me.

I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to play up to par, but I had an awesome season.

So awesome that I was dubbed the new Golden Child of the NBA.

I released all my bitterness, grief, and pain on that court.

Between endorsement deals and the second contract I signed, I was filthy rich before the age of twenty-three.

When I experienced a career ending injury five years into playing, I was once again devastated.

My parents never pushed me to play basketball.

I became obsessed with the sport on my own.

In almost every childhood photo of me starting at two years old, I had a basketball in my hands.

I lived, ate, and breathed basketball. Not being able to play was almost the equivalent of losing my mother.

I sulked and felt defeated for about three months before I sucked it up and moved on.

My brother and I started a sports management firm, and I also opened an auto shop.

I was even about to start coaching basketball at a private middle school.

Once I found things to keep me busy, being retired wasn’t too bad, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss playing.

Since I was no longer constantly on the road, obsessing over games and practice, my loved ones felt it was the perfect time for me to settle down.

The women came in abundance while I was in the league.

There were so many women vying for me, I honestly felt settling down would be doing myself a disservice.

Even I was stumped when the sleeping around and being with different women all the time became less exciting.

But I hadn’t met Ms. Right. I hadn’t met the woman that made me want to drop down on one knee and propose.

I was no longer in the NBA, but I was still rich, and it was hard to find a woman that I genuinely believed wasn’t there solely for the money.

It was even harder to find a woman that didn’t have Botox for brains.

I was over the shallow, ditzy, women that only cared about keeping up with appearances and receiving validation from strangers.

I wasn’t some dumb jock. Stimulating conversations were a must for me.

My dad never missed a chance to tell me how my mother was the love of his life.

Bryan and I hated seeing him alone but even after almost eight years, he still hadn’t started dating. If he had, he kept her a secret.

As I drove home, my thoughts drifted to Berkley.

After being drafted into the NBA, I had to learn to read women very well.

There were a lot of them that admitted they knew who I was.

Then there were those that pretended not to know who I was, but I was more than certain, Berkley had no idea who I was when we slept together.

It didn’t mean much to me when I left the bathroom that morning and discovered she’d left.

I was actually relieved because I didn’t have to do that awkward thing where I asked for her number or pretended that I wanted to see her again.

But the more I thought about it, I wouldn’t mind seeing her again.

I definitely wouldn’t mind having sex with her again, but if she felt the need to ghost me for whatever reason, I didn’t have a choice but to be okay with it.