“Yeah, but you didn’t want me with you though.”
“You act as if I sent you away and never came to get you. I came every weekend.”
“That wasn’t e-fucking-nough! I needed you and you wanted nothing to do with me because you thought I was sweet.”
They had been tiptoeing around this conversation for years. Jovanis withheld the impulse to explore her point of view because he knew it would hurt him. Unfortunately, Jovanis was numb. There was no more pain to penetrate him because Tuck and Irish made sure he felt none.
“I’m sorry.” Margie wiped her face with her fingertips. “I didn’t think you were gay. I was afraid of you being gay, so I foolishly thought if I sent you with your uncles, they could nip it. Back then, I didn’t know. It was considered taboo and I didn’t have the maturity or the knowledge to know what I was doing wasn’t right.”
Jovanis mulled over her answer, wishing the wedge between them could have been lifted years ago. His heart had hardened over time. Margie didn’t hold a special place in his life anymore. When she used to come get him on the weekends, Jovanis barely conversed with her. They’d go out to eat or to the arcade and he’d be standoffish until she returned him back to his uncles. Margie started feeling like a big sister rather than his mother. He didn’t view her in the same light as he once did and that pained him.
“I thought what I was doing was good for you,” she continued, “you know, being around men that were—”
“Fucking criminals. What you think they taught me, Ma? You think we went to the park, and they showed me how to ridea bike? Do you think they taught me how to fix cars or something around the house? Those niggas showed me the worst shit. I learned how to shoot a gun, rob niggas, and even bag up weed. While you were over here scouting for a new family, I was turning into a criminal. But I guess that’s better than being gay, right?”
“I never forgot about you, Jovanis!” she yelled. “I asked you to come back to live with me when you were sixteen and you refused.”
“Because it was too late. The damage had already been done, Ma. You showed me who you were and guess what? I didn’t wanna be around you anymore.”
Around that time, Jovanis couldn’t bear to leave Irish behind. She needed him and he had been honored to make sure she was okay. That was another reason why he refused to move back in with Margie.
“What can I do to fix it? I’ve been chasing you for years, Jovanis. You haven’t given me anything to hold on to. How can I make this right?”
He shrugged, not having a remedy to fix the broken relationship between him and his mother.
She rested her hands on his shoulders. “Jovanis, look at me.”
Reluctantly, his gaze drifted to her face.
“I’m sorry for making you feel unwanted. I’m sorry for making you think that I got rid of you because I thought you were gay. I apologize for ever hurting you, Son. You are my first love. I’ve always adored you and always will. I see the way you look at me. It pains me that you purposely don't come around.”
Jovanis swiped the tear that had quickly escaped his eye. He despised being in this condition. He was broken beyondrepair. Nothing could be refurbished within him. However, he needed this from Margie. He’d yearned for her to acknowledge what they always avoided so that he could move on with his life.
“Can we fix this?” she muttered. “Just me and you. I miss my son so much. We used to have so much fun together. I know that I’m the reason everything stopped but I would love to start over. I miss you.”
The stubborn facet of Jovanis wanted to decline. He’d been without the maternal comfort for so long, it would feel foreign to him. Then that little boy that never got a chance to just be, wanted his mother. He needed the hug and assurance that only a mother could give.
“Yeah, we can do that.”
“Yeah?” she asked, seeming to be surprised by his answer.
“Yeah, Ma.”
Margie threw her arms around his neck and embraced him. Jovanis held her tightly, drowning in the touch he had missed so much.
“I love you, Son,” she whispered in his ear. “Never forget how much I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Stepping back, she smiled at him. “Let’s go in there and see what Josiah got. Then we can share a piece of cake, and you tell me what you need from me moving forward.”
He nodded just as his phone chimed. Taking it out of his pocket, he noticed a text.
Irish: I’m ready to talk. Meet me at our favorite spot on Thursday at seven.
Jovanis thought he would’ve been relieved when he finally heard from Irish yet there was nothing but dread accompanied with her text. What would she say? How would she break what was left of him? Jovanis knew their end was on the horizon. Her silence for the last month had showcased that.
“You ready, Van?” Margie asked.
