Me:
Essex and Nash came from the backyard carrying the last few folding chairs to the garage. I leaned up against the counter, waiting for Nash and Essex to re-enter the house. Elise climbedonto one of the stools across from me and texted my phone. I felt it vibrate in my pocket, but Essex and Nash returned before I could read it.
“Alright, now that it’s just us, I’m going to spill it,” Nash’s voice announced overLove Balladby L.T.D that was playing low from the indoor speakers. Everybody was dead tired, but focused their attention on Nash. “Myron has been asking me for money,” he confessed.
“What?” Essex roared, fire dancing in his eyes.
“Essex,” Nariyah gently rubbed his arms.
“Yeah, Essex, calm down,” Elise chimed in.
“Rashawn saw it earlier, so he took my phone and agreed not to tell y’all until everybody left because I didn’t want to ruin the day.”
“Y’all need to see the messages he was sending him. Telling him he ain’t ate all week, and all types of shit,” I added, sliding Nash’s phone across the counter to them. “He sent him about twelve hunnid dollars.”
“What?” Nariyah spluttered, her eyes damn near bulging out of her head. She snatched up Nash’s phone and flashed it in his face to unlock it.
Nariyah went to their text thread, and I saw the anger consuming her the more she read the one sided text thread between Myron and Nash. He was in there saying some wild shit. Like if it wasn’t for him, Nash wouldn’t be shit, and he owed him.
“You’re getting a new number, and the communication with Myron stops here,” Nariyah announced, passing the phone to Essex. He accepted the phone, and I saw him fighting to contain his visceral reaction the more he read. Nariyah pulled Nash into her arms, and they hugged while she shed a few tears.
“That’s emotional blackmail,” Elise broke the silence.
“That’s exactly what it is, and I’m so sorry you were going through this for a year now.”
“Mom, please relax. I just give him the money because I know he needs it, and I splurge all of the money y’all give me on silly stuff that doesn’t matter. I’m fine. I understand that he’s an addict, and I feel sorry for him, that’s all. I know we would have everything we have even without him. I was old enough to remember how he stopped paying for my private school and everything surrounding that,” Nash divulged.
“Even if you say it doesn’t bother you, I’m not going to allow Myron to subject you to that type of treatment. You’re thirteen, in middle school, spending money on silly things is a part of development,” Nariyah expressed.
“Yeah, at the end of the day, it’s Myron’s job to protect and provide for you. You’re the child and he’s supposed to be the parent. It’s also his job to care for himself. Addiction is a disease, and it's not your fault. There is nothing you can do to fix Myron’s issues. I know you declined therapy before, but it’s happening now,” Essex chimed in.
“Absolutely,” Nariyah confirmed, lifting Nash’s phone. “After we get your number changed tomorrow, I will give you your phone back, but for now it stays with us.”
“I understand,” he nodded.
Essex pulled Nash in for a hug, and they stood in the middle of the kitchen for a few moments before breaking the embrace. “You know you can always come talk to us, right? We can’t be keeping secrets like that.”
“I know,” Nash lamented. “I’m sorry for not telling y’all.”
Guilt hit me, and I glanced at Elise. We were trying to communicate with our eyes, but I was getting mixed signals. In the end, Elise didn’t say shit, and I wanted to respect her wishes, so I remained silent. After saying goodbyes we left and walked down the block.
“I was trying to say, let’s stick around to tell them. I feel terrible now.”
“You want to go back in there?”
“No. It’s done now. We will tell them next weekend like we planned.”
“Bet. You coming to my house?”
“Absolutely not. I’m going home. I have to be up in the morning, and you’re not going to be trying to sleep. Plus, I have a long day tomorrow. Full first day of practice,” Elise beamed, sticking her tongue out.
“I’m so proud of you,” I swooned, opening the door to her truck.
“Thank you, Rashawn. I love you. I’ll see you whenever we are both free this week,” she waved, slipping into her car.
I stood on the curb with my hands behind my back watching Elise drive off. That brief moment made me realize Nash was right, I was a simp when it came to Elise, and that was fine with me.
CHAPTER SIX
