Page 45 of Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming

“Her, who?” Ranson asks.

“Her me.” Liliian enters the back room.

Ranson’s eyes light up like a kid at Christmas. “Momma!”

He pushes past his brother and gives his mother a tight hug, even lifting her up.

“Boy, put me down.” She lightly taps his shoulder and laughs.

Ranson sets her on her feet. “What are you doing here? I thought we agreed I’d visit you in April.”

“Well, when this young lady found me, she explained her plan, and I had to make sure my baby was okay.”

Her plan?Lyric found my mother.I don’t know whether to be shocked or impressed that she was able to do it.

Ranson made sure his mother was very well hidden. Living in LA gave her a taste of what the spotlight brings, and she hated it. She tolerated it because she loved the kids.

“Momma, you didn’t have to come out to LA and check on me, and how did Lyric even find you?”

“Mymomma. I called her, and she called Aunt Eunetta, who got on the horn with her ladies’ auxiliary church group—and those ladies don’t play. They tracked down your momma in under an hour.”

Ranson snickers. “Damn, I did not take the church lady grapevine into consideration.”

“Well, when Ms. Lyric told me that you needed my help, of course I came.”

“I figured there was a chance that your mom had some money squirreled away to make sure she wasn’t beholden to your father in any way. It’s something my mom and a lot of the women in my family would do, and I was right.”

“Momma, I don’t want you mixed up in all this,” Ranson complains.

“Hush and listen,” Lilian says.

Ranson nods at Lyric, urging her to continue.

“My first instinct about you was that you’re a man who looks out for the ones he loves. But it’s more than that, you’ve made yourself their official protector. You do it in a multitude of ways. Whether it’s making sure your nieces and nephews see you as a safe space, making sure your siblings don’t struggle financially, or risking the ire of your father to help one of the women who raised you. You’re an extraordinary man, Ranson Hamilton.”

Ranson has tears in his eyes. “Wow. Damn, Lyric. I?—”

“Baby, I’m not done.”

“Oh, sorry. Please continue.”

“The problem is, you don’t seem the realize that the people you protect can, and will, protect you too,” Lyric finishes.

“But Parker will?—”

“Parker won’t do shit,” Braxton says. Realizing his faux pas, he turns to Lilian. “Sorry, Momma Lily.”

“Don’t let that happen again, Braxton Shakim Hamilton.”

“Yes ma’am,” he says.

Braxton turns back to Ranson. “It’s a shame the old man is so obsessed with power and control. Maybe he would have noticed that all of his children inherited his business acumen.”

“Brax, what are you talking about?”

“Momma Lilian managed to raise a small fortune with investments and gave me and Kordell seed money to build a business. We’re partnering up with Rossmore Wines, thanks to a hookup from Mike. We’re going to make our own brand of Jamaican rum inspired by mom’s roots. We’ve asked mom to wait until our first year’s profit until we give Lee the financial backing for his start up. We don’t want anything to do with dador his money. This is completely independent of him. Which is why he doesn’t know about it,” Braxton explains.

“So, where’s Kord?”