I turned back to address judge Lance. I took a gracious step backward. This wasn’t something we should fight about. This was something we could come to some agreement over. Lance was not a hot head. Lance was cool as hell. He was my boy. I turned and walked away from him. I landed at the refrigerator door. “What the fuck is going on here?” “You saw it. You know. You figured it out.” I crossed my arms under my chest. “You are yelling at Serena like she’s your wife. I feel like I stepped into the Twilight Zone.” “No, just a sticky situation.” “This has got to stop.” “I’m not giving Serena up.” “What the fuck does that mean?” “It means that you have to act like you don’t know anything and you haven’t seen anything at all. I’m not giving her up.” “Why? I can get you ten black women with big asses, here in your house, in an hour.” “I don’t want them. I want her.” “Why?” “You don’t know?” “Noah, I don’t. I have no fucking idea.”
