“He doesn’t live here. He has a life elsewhere, Raev. What am I supposed to do with that?”
“See, that’s the problem, G. You’re thinking so far ahead that you’re trampling on your own happiness. How can you ever be happy when you’re thinking about all the bad things?”
“How can I not?”
“Just like I don’t. Don was here two days, and it was probably the best forty-eight hours of my being. I mean, of course I cried after he left, but the entire time he was here, I was happy with him. I didn’t dare think about next week, or even tomorrow. I just existed in that space with him. He said he’ll be back tonight to spend Christmas with me, but part of me doesn’t believe him. He’s a drifter, moving from place to place because he can never be still. I know who he is, and what he’s seemingly capable of,so of course I have no expectations for his type. I just enjoy the intimate moments we’re in because I know when we’re out of them I’ll miss them.”
I smiled. For the first time in like ever, I understood exactly what was coming out of her mouth. It was almost like willful ignorance and throwing caution completely to the wind to experience the entire moment while it was there.
“But what do I know? I throw this pussy at whatever nigga I’m feeling at the time.” She winked and was on her feet in seconds. “I gotta go get with a man about a dog, especially since your daddy has stolen both of my babies. I’m a good owner.”
I shook my head because she was so serious. Along with a beautiful show horse by the name of Reeta, my sister also owned two purebred Cane Corsos. One was a standard black, named Bane and the other was storm gray, named Odin. She adopted them during our outreach weekend when we went to the local shelters to give free shots and vet advice. They had been dumped in the middle of the road at nine weeks in a kennel filled with feces.
“Do you think he’s gonna get out of that window this year?”
She looked somber for the first time since she’d come out here. “No. I think that’s his way of coping. Mama was his sun, moon, and all the stars. Now he’s here without her. Most of the year he’s fine, but around this time he just needs to be by that window.”
I nodded.
“Too bad though, because him sitting in that window means he sees me come and go more than he has at any other time.” She did a little dance before turning to leave.
I laughed as she left me to do my cleaning. Her words resonated heavily with me, repeating in my mind over and over like a recording. Maybe she was right, but it was all flawed to me,because what stopped me from getting hurt? Then again, maybe that was the risk, and she deemed it worth it.
After I finished cleaning, I made my way into the house to check on Ethan. He was sitting in front of the TV of course, watching sports.
“Mommy did Santa get me a mini cow for Christmas?” he asked as soon as he laid eyes on me.
“I don’t know, is that what you asked him for?”
He followed me into the kitchen. “Yes.”
“Then you might, but you have to remember you don’t always get what you want, E,” I reminded him, knowing darn well I’d always get him what he wanted if it was within reason. Then again, this Christmas I had proven I was willing to go beyond reason. Because purchasing a mini cow from Guuds had been just that.
“Mommy.” He called my name, gaining my attention once again as I moved toward the refrigerator.
“Huh?” I turned and looked at him for a minute, then back at the fridge. My eyes landed on the check still pinned there. I had half a mind to rip it up because I had done it this long without him.What the hell did I need him for now?
“When are we going to put the Christmas tree up, decorate, and bake cookies for Santa?”
“Tonight. Hudson is going to come by and help us. Are you okay with that?”
“Yes, Mommy. He’s cool and he makes good burgers. Is he your friend?”
“Yes.”
Ethan nodded. “Well that’s okay, Mommy, and he has a nice house.” My baby shrugged, then walked away like a little old man, leaving me to wonder why it mattered that Hudson had a nice house.
“Let me get this right,you put together a whole cookie house then you don’t eat it?” Hudson’s voice held nothing but amusement.
“Yes. The cookies are always nasty and so is the icing,” Ethan responded.
I laughed. He only said that because one Christmas he ate the entire gingerbread home and was sick as hell on Christmas. My baby was throwing up gumdrops and sprinkles like the gingerbread man was fighting to get out of him.
Hudson laughed.
Something about seeing him sitting at the table with my son made my heart palpitate. This whole scene felt like it belonged and that was scary. Though this wasn’t his world, he fit in a way that I couldn’t deny.
“You both need some more icing? Or you good with what you got?”
