“He’s old enough to be your father, so I’m not worried about y’all. I just want to make sure he’ll be around for a whilebefore you meet him. Y’all got plans this weekend?” Ma asked, changing the subject.
I smacked my lips and rolled my eyes. “Not that I had plans, but it’s supposed to be Victor’s weekend. He bailed, once again.”
“Damn, Sis. When was the last time he actually showed up?”
“At least two months.”
My mother shook her head and said, “It’s probably for the best.”
“I agree, which is why I don’t make a big deal of it. Keelan doesn’t seem to care either. He asked if I could tell the judge he didn’t like going with his father.”
They gasped.
“Keelan said that from his own mouth?” Ma questioned.
“He sure did, and I wish it were that simple.”
“It should be. The courts should always take the child’s desires into consideration,” Naomi said.
“Especially when the child is smart and can verbalize his thoughts and feelings the way Keelan does,” Ma said.
“Have you reported his no-shows to the courts?” Naomi asked.
“I told my attorney, and she told me to keep a log in case we have to use it in court, but the judge will want just cause to change or remove his visitation rights. Victor is a horrible role model, and Keelan doesn’t like being around him, and I wish he didn’t have to be.”
“Is he still paying child support?” Ma asked.
“Only because it comes directly out of his check.”
“Tuh. I’m surprised the nigga ain’t quit his job to get out of it,” Naomi said, and I agreed.
“I’m so glad you got out of that marriage. I can’t tell you the number of nights I lost sleep worrying about you and Keelan,” my mother said.
“I’m glad too. Even though Victor never put his hands on me, I always felt like he was on the verge of knocking my head into a corner. I eventually learned how to avoid feeding into his narcissistic rants, but living life on pins and needles was exhausting.”
“I can imagine,” Naomi said.
“I’m always worried about the residual effects of so much toxicity on Keelan, but after our conversation today, I’m probably raising the most emotionally intelligent ten-year-old in the world. You can’t tell me that therapy doesn’t work.”
When I separated from Victor, Keelan started therapy and went once a week for about a year and a half. His visits decreased to twice a month then, eventually, to as needed. I thought he might ask me to schedule an appointment when he was being bullied, but he didn’t, and he handled it well.
“What did he say?” Ma questioned.
I shared the conversation Keelan and I had at lunch with them, and they were genuinely touched by what he’d said, but not at all surprised.
“I always say he’s mature for his age. I know part of his maturity was forced on him because of circumstances, but outside of that, he’s never behaved like the average kid,” Naomi commented.
“My prayer is that he doesn’t inherit his father’s horrible personality traits.”
“We pour too much good into him for that to happen, Ryah,” my mother assured me.
We talked a while longer before I left to pick up the food. When I arrived atFried Rice & More,it was crowded, and there was a line, even though the names were called at random. I expected it, so I wasn’t too annoyed. I stood behind a tall man, whose scent made me imagine being wrapped in his arms with my head resting on his chest.
Apparently, I was standing a little too close to him, and when he reached into his back pocket to retrieve his phone, his arm brushed against me. I stepped back as he turned around, and I was shocked to see my neighbor from across the street.
“My bad, beautiful. Naryah, right?”
“Yes. No need to apologize. That was my fault. I didn’t realize I was standing so close.”
