Jamie tried to look around me to see the TV, and I reached to take off the headphones. He ducked, and I tried again as he twisted away from me. “Ma,” he groaned in exasperation.
“I’m serious. I don’t have time to wait around for you.” I snatched his beloved Beats off his head and placed them around my neck. “Get up, now, or these are mine.” I kicked a pair of his Adidas toward the closet. “You need to clean up in here. I swear to God, you live like a straight pig. Everything is a mess.”
Suddenly, little arms wrapped around my waist, reminding me of warmth and light. I looked down at my youngest. “Hey, my baby.”
“Hey, Mommy.” A vanilla brown face grinned up at me, his two front teeth finally growing back. I wasn’t quite ready for my baby to be a boy, and I lovingly rubbed his back as he proudly claimed, “I’m dressed and ready for school, and you didn’t even have to wake me up.”
Jamie frowned and swung his lanky legs over the side of the bed. “See, he can get up and dress himself, Ma. Stop calling him a baby.”
KJ only hugged me tighter and peeked around my waist at his brother to say, “I’m alwaysherbaby.”
He grunted and reached for his clothes, which I’d laid out for him at the bottom of the bed the night before. Holding up a pair of jeans, he complained, “I wanted to wear my black khakis today.”
“Oh, that’s all I needed to hear.” I pretended to wipe my hands. “Please, start getting your own clothes together at night. You’re fourteen and way too big for me to choose your clothes anyway.”
“Like me, Mommy?” KJ rested his cheek against my side. “I picked out my own outfit.”
Jamie scoffed. “You wear uniforms. You only have one choice.”
“At least he’s dressed.” I countered. “Get up, now.”
“Babe, where’s my salad?” My husband called from the kitchen. I’d left him asleep in bed while I prepared for the morning with our children. He could sleep as long as he wanted since we owned a small construction company and he had his own schedule to keep. Lately, he’d been gone more than he’d been at home, claiming that entrepreneurship required long,grueling hours until we’d built up our account to take care of needs, wants, emergencies, and aspirations.
“I had to bake cookies for KJ and work on payroll and applying for the land grant that you were too busy to finish last night, remember? I didn’t have time to make your salad.” I replied and gestured angrily to my oldest son to get dressed as I headed back down the hall with KJ still attached to me, making walking difficult. Of course, he thought it was hilarious and giggled as we made it to the kitchen.
After a disapproving frown from his father, who stood by the open refrigerator door, KJ quickly released me and sat at the glass kitchen table designed for four. I walked to our son and kissed his forehead before placing Jamie’s headphones on the table.
“Stop babying him,” Kody demanded quietly.
“Stop being mean.” I retorted.
“KJ, am I mean to you?” Kody closed the refrigerator and moved to stand over our son. “Your mama thinks I’m too hard on you. What do you think?”
The wide smile from earlier disappeared as he looked at me for the right answer.
He barked, “Don’t look at her when I’m asking you a question. It’s a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ response.”
I touched his forearm gently. “Leave him alone, Kody. He’s seven. Of course, he’s looking at me for the right answer. You just fussed at him. That’s what children do when they’re confused, nervous, or scared.”
“And he’s all three,” Jamie commented as he walked into the room with baggy jeans and an Anime t-shirt. Not the outfit I’d chosen at all. He wore his hair in wild twists that his father hated, and I adored. He slammed his Beats on his ears and sat down to gobble up the oatmeal and wheat toast I’d prepared for everyone.
“Did anyone ask your opinion?” Kody scowled. “Looking like a thrown-away child. I should’ve kept you in that private school where dress codes are enforced. Don’t even know why you care so much about going to the same janky school as we did.”
“He can’t hear you with those noise-cancelling earphones on his head. And I think it’s an honor that he wants to attend the same high school that we did. It’s the same janky school full of teachers who actually cared about black and brown kids. The same janky school that educated us and helped a generation get out of poverty. Most of us went to college following graduation. Did you forget that I’m in charge of our 15thclass reunion? Of course, you did.” I stomped to the refrigerator and pulled out ingredients for his salad. Kody would annoy and bother us all if I didn’t go ahead and prepare his lunch. It was my fault. I spoiled them all. They were my boys, even the big one who couldn’t seem to connect to his sons. I always had to intervene or soften his tone when he spoke to them. Our marriage counselor had advised us not to check each other in front of the children. As much as I tried, sometimes his wicked tongue or his harsh tone provoked me to correct him while soothing our sons.
When I’d first told Kody that I didn’t believe in whippings or spankings, we argued for days. He soon learned that I was serious. Once, when Jamie was three, and he knocked over his grape juice, staining the carpet, Kody spanked his legs. I snatched Jamie from him, and I kicked Kody out of our bedroom until he agreed not to touch him or any future children. I’d seen the impact of abuse when I dated Freedom, and though I didn’t believe that corporal punishment was abuse, it was a slippery slope if a parent lost control of his temper.
“And the 10threunion wasn’t enough? No one told you to volunteer when we already have shitloads of work to do and a family to raise. You’re always stretching yourself too thin trying to help when we need you more.” Kody’s cell rang, and heglanced down at the phone in his hand. The edges of his mouth curved before he quickly walked out of the kitchen. “Left my tie.”
I closed my eyes and gripped the knife tighter as I diced the tomato for his salad.He promised me.
“Ma…you good?” Jamie called from across the room.
I pasted a smile and then looked over my shoulder. “Yeah.”
His eyes narrowed before he glanced toward the hall, and his nostrils flared. The ever observant Jamie was an introvert, as I had been when I was his age. As far as I knew, he didn’t have friends except for the ones he met while playing his video games. He walked the halls of Oak Valley High with his Beats firmly planted on his ears and around his neck during classes. A part of him wanted to fit in. Saw it in the longing of his eyes when his younger brother, who had this infectious energy and personality, drew people to him effortlessly. The other part walked his own path with defiance. Either you vibed with Jamie, or you didn’t, was his response when I once asked him about friends.
And he and I flowed like the river.
