A Familiar Ring

CHAPTER 2: Always Be Courteous to Karma

Prosper was debonair, reserved; a distinguished gentleman—or so people thought. He never quite grew out of his "hood phase" though he was able to keep that part of his humble beginnings tucked away in Macon. In Atlanta, he was more of an enigma. He was the guy always seen with the right people and at the right time but you never knew anything about him. He liked things this way. In reality, he was an urban planner by profession. Prosper came from a family of hard-hat construction men, welders, carpenters, iron workers—the Freemans did everything with their hands. 

Though his family was able to do well for themselves as blue collar workers, the younger generation was encouraged to get a higher education in addition to learning the family trade. He'd gone to Kennesaw State University for his undergraduate degree in Architecture and completed a dual Master's program in Historic Preservation with a Juris Doctor to boot at University of Georgia. But these are things you'd only know if he decided to tell you, or if you were interviewing him for a job.

It was Saturday afternoon and he was on site in the West End inspecting an area proposed for redevelopment, likely to be gentrified. Something was off with the soil. He was just about to start collecting samples when his phone rang and he was startled by the number that appeared on his Apple Watch. It was almost as if he had seen a ghost.  He picked up on the fourth ring.

"Shawty please tell me this is not an elaborate prank. Or another one of those silly superstitions brides follow before their weddings," Prosper answered on the other end of the line. His tone was full of Georgia charm, bravado and shock. There was silence as Cadence hesitated to speak. What could she even say? Why did she even call him?

     "H-Hello Prosper," Cadence said trying to cover up the shock and sadness in her voice.

      "Hello," he replied calmly and hesitated a bit before saying, "Is everything alright, shawty?"

She hadn't spoken to Prosper in years and was nowhere near close to walking down an aisle the last time she saw him. How did he know? She also was flattered that he had kept her number in his phone.

   "No, this isn't me being superstitious but maybe–," she stared out at the countryside as the river of tears flowed down her face, "maybe this is a prank." All she could do was cry.

   "What you mean?" Prosper was legitimately concerned. He knew that whatever it was going on with Cadence, it must be serious.

   "He was just like every other fuck boy in Atlanta!  Talmbout it was just a fairy tale and he had to wake up," Cadence tried mimicking Duke's tone through her tears. She didn't do a good job of it though. "Tuh! On our wedding day though. Like, at the actual wedding. That's information that would've been useful yesterday!"

   "Isn't he a fool?" Prosper asked, rhetorically, though he meant it.

   "Ain't I?"

   "Maybe. You are on the phone with me right now," Prosper answered truthfully.

   "Prosper!"

   "What? I'm just say--"

   "I need you, P," Cadence sighed deeply in between her cries, "Your number isn't even saved in my phone. I don't even know how I remembered your number. I guess I just... I need you right now."