“That’s emotion,” he said. “That’s bein’ a man.”
He looked away for a second, and when he looked back, some of that stubbornness softened even though he still tried to hold on to it. “I don’t want you thinkin’ something is wrong with your blood. You come from strong stock.”
“I know that,” I replied.
“And Pops,” I continued, “you raised me to stand on business, to take care of my family. That means I gotta be the best man I can be. Not the man I pretend to be when I’m losin’ my mind. Toni help me, therapy help me. This medicine keep melevel. I can’t be the man my wife need if I keep fightin’ what’s wrong with me.”
His mouth twitched, almost like he wanted to argue again, but he didn’t.
“And speakin’ of Toni,” I said, leanin’ forward a lil’, “you gon’ have to respect her.”
He looked at me then, sharp and direct. “I have never disrespected that girl.”
“You spoke on her like she wasn’t good enough for me,” I said. “And she is. She’s great for me. She hold me down in ways I ain’t even know I needed. She love me just like you love Mama. Don’t act like you don’t know what that feel like.”
He pressed his lips together at the mention of my mama, ‘cause everybody in Da Trill knew Kwame worshipped Treasure. She was his soft spot, the one thing that could crumble him or build him all the way up.
“You always told me a man is supposed to pick his woman and protect her. I picked mine,” I said. “And I’m protectin’ her. Just like you would.”
Pops let out a breath, slow and heavy. He looked helpless as hell listenin’ to me talk like a grown man. “You’re still my baby boy.”
“And to Toni,” I said, “I’m her man.”
That made him smile, a small one but real. Pride sat in his eyes even if his ego didn’t let it show all the way. “You sound like me,” he said.
“That’s ‘cause you raised me right,” I answered. “I just need you to let me be who you raised.”
He sat there for a moment, then reached out his hand. I shook it, but he pulled me into another hug, longer this time, tighter. It was the type of hug that felt like a truce.
When we separated, I stood up. “I’m gon’ head home.”
He nodded and stood with me. “Come by more often,” he said. “Your mother misses you. And I… would like to see you too.”
I nodded. “A’ight, Pops. I’ll come through.”
He walked me to the door like he used to when I was young, gettin’ ready for school, and when I got back in the car, I sat for a second before callin’ Toni.
She answered on the second ring. “Hey baby.”
“I’m on my way home,” I told her. “I love you.”
She got quiet for a second, then said, “I love you too.”
After that, I hung up, breathed in deep, and pulled off the estate.
I was home to my woman.
Meridian Estates in Nzuri Hall
I watched my son pull out of the estate, the taillights of his car fading against the long driveway until the front gate swallowed him up. The house grew quiet again. It was the quiet that felt too heavy for a man like me. Kay’Lo had only been gone a few minutes, but the conversation we shared was still sitting on me like a weight I could not move. The word schizophrenic kept echoing in my mind like it had carved itself into the walls.
I did not like how it sounded.
Not when it was attached to my son.
Not when it came from some therapist I had never met.
I walked back into the house and even though everything looked the same, it felt different now. The paintings lining the hall looked too bright, the chandelier felt too loud, and thesilence carried a truth I had been avoiding for years. I loved my boy, but deep inside my chest something was twisting because the idea of my bloodline being labeled like that made me feel like a failure. And that was the one thing I had never allowed myself to be.
