The Eleventh Commandment by Lutishia Lovely

Bo countered.
    â€œIt’s better than your spaghetti!” DJ said, as his voice rose an octave.
    Bo leaned against the island, coming face to face with the little boy he loved like his own, which, in a way, DJ was. “Do you like how tall your father is?” DJ nodded. “What about his face; do you think he’s handsome?”
    DJ looked at Darius. Another nod. “Yes.”
    â€œWell, you know how he got so tall and so fine?” Bo’s voice became an almost-whisper. “By eating real food like my spaghetti!” Without waiting for a reply, he flounced over to pull the parmesan-garlic toast from the oven.
    DJ laughed. “Uh-uh. That’s not true, Daddy . . . is it?”
    â€œNo, son, that’s not true. You are going to be way more handsome than me.” This, Darius believed was true. When it came to his son, he felt that he and Stacy had given him the best of themselves. DJ’s facial features were almost carbon copies of Darius, but his lean body, keen mind, and sparkling personality were courtesy of Stacy Gray-Johnson. Yes, he’d been given awards, charted platinum albums, and toured the world, but the five-year-old wunderkind sitting across from him was by far the best product he’d ever created.
    Bo placed the toast on the island and then joined them. Once he sat down, Darius reached for his fork. “No,” Bo said, eyeing DJ as he took a piece of toast and tore it in half. “You’re going to grow up looking like either a chicken nugget, hamburger, or French fry because that’s all you eat.” After finishing a forkful of spaghetti, he added, “But don’t worry. You’ll be the finest chicken nugget the world has ever seen. In fact, that’s my new name for you: Nugget. You okay with that?”
    DJ was crazy about Bo, but in this instance adopted an appropriate look of chagrin before forcing out a begrudging, “Not really. I like DJ.”
    â€œWhat if I tell you that the next time you come over we’re going to create a special cookie and call it a Nugget, named after you. Would you be okay with that?”
    â€œYes!” A pause and then, “To go with my Happy Meal, right?”
    They laughed and the conversation meandered from DJ’s lengthy dissection of the movie they’d seen the day before to Darius’s upcoming tour that kicked off with the musical benefit in New York’s Central Park. They made quick work of devouring the vittles and while Bo tidied the kitchen, Darius and DJ went to pack for DJ’s return to Stacy. As father and son chatted, Darius offered up a prayer of thanks that he and Stacy had been able to finally come to terms about custody. Because of Darius’s hectic schedule, DJ stayed mostly with his mother, but when he was available, Stacy never turned down a request from Darius to spend time with his son. Last year, DJ had even traveled to New York with Darius and Bo when they went to visit the extensive family Bo had there. Yeah, buddy, he thought as he watched his son zip up his Transformer-decorated carry-on, your life can’t get much better than this.
    â€œYou ready, little man?”
    â€œDo I have to go home, Daddy?”
    Darius’s brows creased. This was an unexpected comment. He sat on the bed. “Don’t you want to go home and see Mommy?”
    â€œI want to see Mommy, but Tony’s acting funny.”
    Darius tensed. “What do you mean by funny?”
    DJ shrugged. “He just acts mad all the time and hardly plays with me anymore.”
    Darius relaxed. A little. “Aw, little man, don’t worry about that. Tony likes to play football, remember?”
    â€œUh-huh.”
    â€œHe’s not playing right now and is probably a little upset about that. So just hang out with Mommy and give him his space, okay?”
    â€œOkay.”
    They walked from DJ’s bedroom back into the living room. Darius grabbed his keys from