“Mmmhmm. Yeah.” Loosening my grip, I pushed him in his chest and pulled off at the green light. “And just so there’s no misunderstanding, you’re grounded.”
He sucked his teeth again. “Ma, forreal? Come on, the season just started. I got practice.”
KJ was a star player on his school’s basketball team. It was the one thing he loved most besides me and his father. Up untilour move back to New York last year, I hadn’t had any issues with him other than normal teenage stuff. He was a straight A student, polite, and respectful. But when his father went away, a part of him changed. While the grades and his love for basketball remained, he’d picked up a new interest – the streets. And I knew it was the sole reason he wanted to be around Koric more.
“You can still go to practice. Me or your godmother will be there to pick you up every day at six.”
“Pick me up?! That’s embarrassing.”
“Unfortunately for you, son, compromises are on hold at the moment.”
By the time we made it back home to Manhattan, my anger had subsided, and exhaustion had kicked in. KJ had his hand on the door handle before I could shift the car in park. The whole afterschool pick up was not ideal for him. I couldn’t think of a better punishment than to temporarily strip him from his independence. Entering our apartment, I kicked off my shoes at the door and hung up my coat.
“Goodnight, KJ,” I said to him, as he beelined toward his room. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” he forced out.
Shaking my head, I sent Danae a text to let her know we’d made it home and that I’d call her later. She responded back that KJ had already texted her. I chuckled at him calling himself telling on me. Exiting the text thread, I navigated to my email. I’d set up a profile on Care.com a couple days ago for a nanny position and had yet to hear back. I needed something to do with myself a few days out of the week when I wasn’t visiting with my father in the rehabilitation center, and being that I loved kids, I figured why not.
Typing Care.com into the search, nothing popped up from the site, but one email did catch my eye. It was from a company by the name of SULLIVAN & CO with the subject: Care.comNanny Inquiry. Knowing I wasn’t going to send a response at this time of night, I moved the email to my high priority folder to check in a few hours. Right now, I needed sleep.
CHAPTER 2
The Weight of The Morning
After getting a few hours of sleep, I woke up, expecting to hear KJ moving about the house, getting ready for school. Only the house was quiet. And he was everything but that during the morning hours. Rolling over, I reached for my phone to check the time and was greeted by a text notification from him.
Sonshine: Went to school.
The text was dry and forced. No “good morning” in the opening and no “I love you” at the end. Typical teenage boy shit. That didn’t stop me from responding as a mother – a Black mother.
Me: Good morning, son. I implore you to keep this same energy for Christmas in the next two weeks. My pockets have been begging for a break. See you at 6 p.m. sharp. Have a productive day. I love you.
The three dots jumped across the screen like he was going to respond then disappeared. He must’ve had second thoughts about what he wanted to say, and that was a good thing. Ididn’t have the capacity to go back-and-forth with an emotional teenage terrorist anyway.
Setting my phone back down on my nightstand, I pulled my comforter from my body and sat up straight. The muscles in my neck ached from the way I slept, so I headed straight for the shower. Stripping out of my clothes, I turned the water on as hot as I could stand it and stepped inside. As the hot water beat down on my back, I rolled my shoulders, feeling some of the tension releasing from my muscles. This shower was longer than usual. The moment of solitude was needed.
Soaping up twice and rinsing off, I wrapped a towel big enough to fit two people around my body. Wiping the steam from the mirror, I stared back at my reflection. The last year had been an adjustment that I hadn’t seen coming, and the sudden need to pivot had taken a toll on me mentally, but I was grateful that it didn’t show up in my appearance. My rich brown complexion was still bright, and my eyes were void of bags. That was a blessing.
Grabbing my facial wash, I began my ten-minute skin routine that kept me blemish free and many suitors questioning my age. Once I achieved that perfect, glass look, I brushed my teeth and headed into the closet. Quickly deciding on a cute but comfy look for the day, I put on a pair of fitted jeans, a cream-colored sweater, and slid my feet into a pair of Bottega sneakers. Today was a routine visit with my father at the nursing home. Like any other day, I prayed that I wouldn’t get there and have to wake the whole facility up about my daddy.
Fully dressed, I made up my bed, checked KJ’s room to make sure his was made up, then headed for the kitchen to put something on my stomach. There was no telling when I’d stop to eat once I got moving. Passing by the living room, I glanced over at the Christmas decorations I’d taken out and made a mental note to start putting stuff up later today. My Christmastree stood tall in all its green glory, equipped with a tree skirt but not one ornament in sight. I’d been waiting on KJ to partake in ornament hanging, but he’d been so wrapped up in KJ land that I thought he’d missed the tree being up.
If I was honest, I wasn’t in the Christmas spirit this year. I hated that for me because this wasmyholiday. It was customary that my tree was up and the house gave Winter Wonderland the day after Thanksgiving. Not this year. I wasn’t feeling it for many reasons. I’d hoped that my father would be home by now, but we were still working at his rehab to get him more stable after his stroke. Add on KJ’s schedule and keeping him on the right track, recovering from divorce, and navigating my new life as well as finances, it was a lot on ya girl. But still, I rise.
After a quick breakfast of rye toast, turkey sausage, and a cup of chai tea, I loaded the dishwasher and packed my bag for the day. I planned to spend most of the day with my father, so I grabbed my iPad, journal, along with my wallet, keys, and phone. Tossing everything into my Glamaholic tote bag, I combed my hair out and put on one of my puffer coats to fight the wind. On my way out, I snatched up my Brümate cup and a pack of granola. In my car was a dad kit that I always restocked after a visit with my father – a track suit, fresh underclothes, and toiletries. Though he had things at the rehab facility, the staff did a piss poor job of doing what I asked in a timely manner, so it was my job to make sure that my father was up to par.
Getting in my car, I started it. While the engine warmed up, I connected my phone to call Danae. Before I could tap her contact from my favorites, my phone rang with an incoming call. The screen read Kaleb Sr. His contact had been listed under Disloyal Bastard up until a few months ago. And that was because KJ had pointed it out as a joke. I never wanted my son to see me as bitter, so I changed it quick.
I kept my communication brief with Kaleb. KJ was a young adult who could report anything he had going on directly to his father. If there was something I needed handled regarding him, I made sure that we discussed it during our first of the month debriefing. Those calls were brief and consisted of me confirming that I’d received the funds for rent and any expenses related to KJ that he hadn’t already given him directly. We’d had that call for December already, so I was curious to know why he was on my line now.
Sighing, I answered.“Hello.”
“Wassup, wifey?”he greeted jovially, quite the opposite of a man serving time.
“Not your wifey. How can I help you, Kaleb?”
Silence hung in the air before he answered. He was likely trying to gauge my mood.“I wanted to hit you to see if you had time to go over what we getting KJ for Christmas.”
