Make You Mine by Niobia Bryant Read Free Book Online

soon as he reached the basement floor he flipped the switch to bask the room in darkness. The red-colored safelight gave him just enough light to see what he was doing without exposing the paper to brighter light that would destroy it.
    His darkroom was his savior. Every element of the process of developing film was a challenge to him. Digital photography helped to make the actual need for film developing archaic, but like a true artist and appreciator of his craft, Julius used any opportunity he could to develop his own photography. From taking the shot to seeing it on print, he was the master of his craft…and that was just the way he wanted it.
    For now, the only thing he wanted to focus on was developing the reels and reels of the black-and-white film he brought back from his trip. His color films were all digital since the process of developing was far more complex than black-and-white film. His book would have an eclectic mix of pictures representing everything he discovered, loved, and cherished during his days in Africa. His Africa.
    For the next two hours he became lost in his work. His photos were about more than just the tribal shots and the large stretches of wilderness. He had those and more. The culture. The food. The modern day amenities. The art. The architecture.
    In moments the slowly developing images in the citric acid stop bath would make him smile at a memory—like the laughing faces of the students at Oprah’s Leadership Academy in South Africa. Or make him feel inspired—like the school in the Njala Kendema village. Or make him sad—like the many faces of the women and children dying from AIDS.
    He would never forget his time there, and he hoped those who purchased his book would feel inspired to experience it all for themselves. There was no denying that a trip back to the motherland was something any and all African-Americans should experience.
    One day when I have kids I’ll take them , he thought.
    His gut clenched.
    One day wasn’t as far off as it had been yesterday.
    Caress was supposedly pregnant with his child. In around six months he would be a father. Jesus.
    Growing up in Stellar Home projects to a mother addicted to dope and never really missing a father who was never around, Julius had made a better life for himself…by himself. His goals were accomplished. He was a college graduate. He was a celebrated and noted photographer. He owned his own homes—one here in his beloved hometown of Newark and an apartment in Miami. Not bad for a orphan kid from the projects whose mother only gave him two things he cherished before she died of an overdose. The first was bringing him into the world, and the second was a used Poloroid camera from a yard sale at some church.
    But now everything was on the verge of changing because baby mama drama had never been a part of his plan. Still, he would never be the deadbeat his own father was. Ready or not, Julius Jones would soon add the label of father to his biography.
    Feeling the tension in his shoulders and neck again, Julius gave up on trying to get any more work done. He crossed the floor to bask the room with light before he washed his hands in the small black sink in the corner of the basement. Before he climbed the stairs, he cast one last look over his shoulder at the dozens of photos drying on the lines stretched across the ceiling.
    In the foyer, Julius checked out the window to see if Caress’s battered little Jetta was parked out front. He frowned a little and glanced down at his watch before he turned and strode slowly to his study. It was a little after midnight and Caress was still making herself scarce for him.
    At this exact moment, Caress was somewhere out there thinking he was with another woman. The whole damn thing was crazy to him.
    The only thing about to get wet was his tongue.
    Julius headed down the hall to his kitchen—his first time in it since his return from Africa. What he saw made