Lauren steered him down the hall.
“You want to get to know her?” DJ asked. “You like my mama?”
“I do. She’s a pretty special woman,” Nyair answered.
“You know my dad, though, right?” DJ asked.
Nyair glanced at Lauren and then down at DJ.
“I know him. I respect your old man.”
Lauren felt like she was holding her breath. She could see the confusion and judgment in DJ’s eyes.
“If you were his friend, you wouldn’t be messing around with my mom behind his back,” DJ stated.
“Hey!” Lauren intervened. “You don’t speak to any adult like that. You can ask questions, but what you can’t do is disrespect your elders.”
DJ sucked his teeth and sat back in his chair, full of attitude, arms folded across his bird chest.
“He’s never gonna come back if Coach is here! You’re just going to give him a reason to stay there with Charlie! We can’t replace him like he replaced us! We got to wait for him to come back!”
Lauren was so taken aback that she didn’t know how to respond immediately. Her son liked Nyair well enough, this shouldn’t be a revelation that traumatized him, but this wasn’t about Ny; it was about Demi. Her anger for her ex-husband was re-ignited instantly. She would deal with DJ’s broken heart behind their divorce every moment of his young life, while Demi had the luxury to pick and choose when it interrupted his routine. It pissed her off so much that it felt like her blood wasboiling. Half-time-ass daddy. Sometimes-ass parent. Pull up for praise, be-gone-before-conflict-ass guardian. Why was this all on her? Why was it her job alone to heal DJ and mitigate his expectation of a traditional family?
“Your daddy isn’t coming back, DJ,” Lauren said sadly.
“I hate it here, and I hate you for making him leave.” DJ didn’t even yell. He looked at her with such contempt that Lauren’s eyes went wet.
He pushed out of the chair and rushed out of the room.
Shaky legs forced her to the chair he had just occupied.
“You can leave,” she whispered.
Nyair didn’t know what to say. There was nothing he could do to take away the sting of her son’s words.
“Lo, I’m sorry he found out like this. He’s a kid, his world is changing, and he can’t control…”
“Nyair, leave! I’m about to lose my shit. I can’t hold these tears in much longer, so just go, so I don’t make a fool of myself,” she yelled.
“I don’t make messes and leave other people to clean them up,” Nyair answered. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the safest embrace she had ever felt. Lauren lost it. She cried so hard on his shoulder that his shirt was soaked in salty tears.
This was about more than DJ’s words. It was about the abandonment Demi had left behind. Being strong had made her pretend to be okay, and she wasn’t. Nyair’s chin resting atop of her head told her that one day, maybe she would be.
“The boy and the mother will be healed, Lo,” Nyair whispered. “You hear me?” He asked as his hand rubbed her back to a rhythm that slowed her heart.
“When, Ny?” She asked, lifting a pathetic gaze at him.
“Now,” Nyair replied. He pulled her close again, massaging the nape of her neck and allowing her the one thing that a Blackwoman desired but rarely received. A safe place to unveil her weaknesses.
Nyair held her patiently and caressed her with a masculine tenderness that calmed her distressed soul until the tears dried themselves. When she pulled away, she didn’t even know what to say.
“I’m exhausted and embarrassed.”
“And exquisite and endearing and elegant in a way I haven’t seen a woman be in a long time, Lo. And can’t forget fucking edible.”
Lauren smiled, concealing laughter behind the four fingers she placed to her lips.
“I should check on him, and you should go.”
