She raised an eyebrow.
“God knows I wanted that shit,” I continued.
She laughed. “You are ridiculous.”
“Just being honest.”
There was a slight pause, then she began again. “I’ve always loved you. I know you love me too. But we got a lot of unresolved stuff.”
“I know.”
“But I’m enjoying getting to know you now, who you are as a man. You’ve grown. You take your career seriously; you always have. I just don’t want to get in the middle of that.”
“I know,” I said. “I know that’s how you always felt, and I know that’s why shit went down between us like it had. I’m dedicated to my work, yes, but . . .” I paused. I couldn’t think of the right words to say to explain how I felt without running her off as I had in the past. I sighed and hung my head. “But there gotta be a way.” From my peripheral, I saw her head drop as she studied my face, like she could read my mind. “People do this all the time,” I continued. “People have families and careers. Even Otis next door always has hundreds of kids. I wonder how that nigga does it.” I spoke the last sentence more to myself than to her, and the words hung in the air like a beat waiting for a verse.
Princess didn’t speak. Her eyes dropped to her hands as she picked at a string on her pants and flicked it to the ground. Something inside of me shifted in her stillness. I’d never taken a chance on anything other than my career, and I felt that Princess and Yana, my family, were ones that I was willing to bet on.
“I’m open to figuring it out,” I said, “if you are.”
She leaned back on the couch and propped one arm on the armrest. She met my eyes with hers and took a deep breath. “Just be honest with me about everything. We can take this as slow as we need to.”
I nodded slowly. “I can do that.”
And for the first time, I didn’t feel like I had promised something I couldn’t give.
6
Ididn’t even remember falling asleep on the couch.
After our conversation last night, Princess and I talked about everything between the past and the future. We poured glasses of wine, listened to music, and laughed about the old days back in Detroit. The last thing I remembered was passing the blunt to her while she nipped at me over sharing the throw blanket.
I didn’t move immediately or even open my eyes for that matter. I heard Yana and Princess in the kitchen behind me, voices low with sizzles coming from the stove. The house smelled like coffee and butter. I heard Yana laugh.
“So, y’all fell asleep on the couch together this time, huh? Didn’t make it to the bed this time?”
Princess sighed, then, with a tone I hadn’t heard from her in years, she snapped. “Girl, you doing way too much. Stay out of grown folks’ business!”
There was a pause, followed by some banging from pots and pans being taken out of the cabinets. Then I heard Yana’s voice, small and soft.
“I’m sorry, Mom. What’s wrong?”
The edge of Princess’s voice cracked. “Nothing,” she said too fast. “I just got a lot on my mind. But you don’t need to be talkin’ to me like that either.”
“I said I was sorry,” Yana repeated gently. “You been like this all morning. You keep snapping on me. I know something is wrong.”
I heard the scrape of a chair, then footsteps that crossed the kitchen. A cabinet closed, and then there was the open and shut of the refrigerator door. Silence followed a second after.
“I just got work stuff.” Princess exhaled, then continued. “Deadlines are coming up. But that has nothing to do with you. I apologize.”
“Okay,” Yana replied. “But next time, can you please not bite my head off?”
“I’ll try.”
Something in that exchange made my heart smile. It was the way Princess circled back and apologized for whatever transpired before I caught the end of it. She took accountability without excuses. She was a good mother. I was sure she always had been.
It made me flashback and think about my own mother, before she got sick, before she even had my sister, when it was just her and me, before my stepfather came into the picture and changed the temperature of the house. Then the love began to come with rules, fists, and fear.
I remembered how loud our laughs used to be when it was just us. It felt so safe. I never questioned whether I belonged there. That all disappeared after him.
