“Come on, let’s get you up and inside,” Nova says, reaching out his hand in an offer to help me up. “Do y’all want to share a room or do you want your own?”
“Our own?” One asks. “We want to stay together, we’ve never been apart.”
“I have the perfect room in mind for you two. Only problem is it has one bed so y’all will need to share. It has an attached bathroom and a walk in closet. Will that work for you?”
I don’t know what a walk in closet is, but a bathroom attached sounds like a dream come true. “Does the bathroom have a real toilet and tub?”
As he helps me off the ground, I notice his face is contorted in a sneer. When he answers, it’s done so through gritted teeth. “Yes. It has a toilet, shower/tub combo, and a sink with a counter for you to spread your essentials out on. There’s a linen closet and a medicine cabinet too, we’ll get it stocked for you because right now, it’s bare.”
“We have everything we need,” One tells him as he leads us up the walkway and onto the porch. “We’ve never had much and can make do with what we do have.”
“Those days are over for you two,” Nova vows. Lifting up his hand, he begins counting things off with his fingers. “You need things, One. Soap, shampoo, conditioner, towels, toothbrushes, paste, clothes, underthings, and feminine products, just for a start.”
His list has my eyes widening because those are things we have to beg for when it comes to Father and he’s willingly going to get us stuff with no strings attached? It brings tears to my eyes because we’ve never been the recipients of such kindness.
He blows out a breath as he puts the key in the deadbolt and unlocks it. “And names, you need real names so I can get you girls a birth certificate and identification.”
Squinting my eyes, I state, “We have names.”
As he pushes the door open, he turns around and gives us a look I can’t decipher. “You don’t, you have a gender and order of birth.”
I’m taken aback by that statement because I’ve always been proud that my sister and I share a first name. But now that he’s said it, I realize that he’s right. Father didn’t care enough about us to gift us individuality.
We’ve been clustered into what sex we are and the order of our birth.
One comes up with the same realization that I did and hisses. “That… that–”
“Bastard,” Nova says, finishing the thought for her.
“Yes. That,” One agrees, nodding her head. “I can’t believe I never put that together. I thought our name was unique and took pride in the fact that he loved us enough and thought we were special enough to let us share one.”
“He didn’t care about us at all,” I conclude, sharing that opinion with them since it hurt keeping it bottled up inside.
“I don’t think your father knows what love is, ladies,” Nova placidly explains, giving us a crestfallen look.
I don’t want him to feel sorry for us because we’ve had each other and things weren’t that bad. We survived and will continue to do so. One has given me everything I’ve ever needed and my life has been coated in gold because she’s never abandoned me.
Wanting to get out of my head, I come up with a question that’ll help me do that. “Doeshehave a name?” I ask.
“Your father?” he asks, and when we both bob our heads he sighs before answering. “He does. Do you want to know what it is?”
One straightens her back, reaches out and grabs my hand with hers and says, “We do.”
Nova looks at us for a second, and I can tell he’s conflicted. Knowing that once he shares this with us, there’s no taking it back and the fact that Father has a name that isn’t boy or Father, may hurt our feelings.
“His full name is Marlon Wayne Jennings. Which means Jennings is y’all’s surname too. You can either keep it or we can change it.”
“I don’t want to share anything with him, even a last name,” One declares.
“Me neither,” I state, standing my ground for the first time in my life. Then curiosity gets the best of me and I ask, “What’s your name?”
“Talon Lamar Cruz. But my brothers call me Nova which is short for Casanova.”
“You have a lot of girlfriends?” One asks. “I know what Casanova means. I read about it in one of our books.”
“What kind of books are you reading?” Nova asks as he ushers us inside.
“Whatever was brought to us,” I remark. “Father usually brought us a new one once a month. More if we were lucky and he was feeling generous.”
