Confidant & Playlist

13. Moonshine

Early March 2012

"Hi baby girl," I say cradling the head of my newborn. Her almost sing-song like crying has subsided and she has finally settled. She has her little hand latched onto my finger.

"She got quite a grip," D says her eyes alight on the infant.

"Tia," Angel says reaching his little hands up.

"Si Angel," she replies accenting his name and directing her attention to him.

"Arriba!" He opens and closes his hands and stretches upward.

"You wanna see the baby?" D smiles. He nods. I scoot over and she picks up and puts him right beside me on the gurney. I lean the baby toward him he leans in and the looks at me.

"Mommy," he says slowly.

"Yes mio," I say.

"What's her name?"

"Brooklynn. Brooklynn Laceanna Hernandez but were gonna call her Bia." He leans in a presses his tiny pair of lips to the infant's forehead then he smiles showing his little dimples. The three of us relax gush over Bia for a while and she sleeps soundlessly through it all.

"Can I?" Delancy asks glancing at the baby.

"Yeah, sure." I lift the baby toward her but as soon as I pry her tiny hand off my finger she begins crying and screaming. Delancy places the infant back in my arms.

"Ok, ok, ok, I'm sorry." She puts her hands up in surrender as she takes two steps back. I cant help but laugh.

"Looks like she's momma's little girl."

"A spoiled little girl," D adds with a grin.

__________

"Alright Phil I'll be over there in the next twenty minutes, I'm just finishing up my lunch," I say as I pace the wooden floors of my kitchen making lunch for Geronimo and myself. I set my phone down on the counter and return to the task at hand. I toss some cut up pieces of spam in a pan with sliced onions, garlic, red and yellow peppers. In another pot I stir some brown rice, season it and put the cover back on. I move the contents of my frying pan around then direct my attention to the assorted greens, cherry tomatoes, croutons, nuts and cheese. G paces the ground my feet, hoping to catch accidentally discarded food. The next ten minutes allows for me to finish cooking and set aside G's food and the second ten allows me just enough time to drive to the studio. Already seated in his favorite chair, the one lined in worn brown leather is Phil scrolling through his phone.

"Ay B, you're here," Phil says clicking off his phone screen before putting it in his jacket pocket. He stands, I give him daps and set my food on the coffee table. I looks to the container and inhales. "You cooked?"

"Yeah," I say in the form of a sigh as I take a seat to the right of him on the couch. "I felt like having something a little homey today."

"Spam?"

"Spam," I reply with a smile. "I also felt a bad about only giving G dry food for the past couple of days so, he got his cut." Phil and I walk into the recording booth and and listen the fresh cuts of our newest songs. We sample a verse of a track, get into the booth and record the harmonizing vocals and the echos. We move from song to song and as we make our way, Lacey tip-toes into my thoughts, in tacks themselves.

You're the best way I know to escape the extraordinary...

I remember the day Lacey and I went to Coney Island one summer afternoon and spent the whole day there. I really needed a day off then; It was a rough week until she suggested that we should go have some fun. We went on nearly every ride, had all the snacks; everything from funnel cake to slushies and played on the beach like kids. She helped me prefect my bachata skills in the sand, we watched the sunset and kept on partying. I didn't want her to leave my side that day and when she did, I felt empty. The next day it was so good to see her again.

"Hey Phil," I say glancing over at him from soundboard.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"How did you know Urbana was the one for you?"

"One day when I was spending time with her, she made me think of something my mom told me when I first started dating seriously," he directs all his attention on me. "She said, if you can live without her then she's not the one." He leans back in his chair. When I realized that, I took her to one of your favorite places to be together I and popped the question."

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For the answer."

"You're welcome I guess," he says slowly as he removes his hat to scratch his bald head. "Did that help?"

"Yeah, there's something I've gotta do."