He rubs his forehead, his hand then moving to scratch at his beard. I hate that I hold my breath waiting for his response.
“I’m guessing, based on your behavior, that’s something you still struggle with?”
“I don’t know if I would consider it a struggle.”
More of a decision. One that is starting to feel more like a burden than a reprieve.
“Hmm,” is all he says.
Rowan knocks, asking if we are ruining her mattress. We confirm we are not, so she pops her head in.
“Hey, you two love bunnies. Want to go to a diner with us?”
“Sure,” I say.
Sahara walks up and rests her head on Rowan’s shoulder. Rowan raises her hand and touches her cheek then they turn and leave. Callahan and I look at each other, the questions clear in our eyes. With a shrug, he stands up, and I wonder if he knows something I don’t. I just hope she isn’t making a mistake.
Chapter 21
Thistimeit’smydad sitting next to me during the chemo appointment. Instead of distracting me, though, he’s flirting with Nurse Rasheda. She is neglecting all her duties and just standing near us, giggling. He keeps rubbing the back of his head, his tell-tale sign that he is nervous. Lights sparked in their eyes when they looked at each other, and now they can’t look away. It’s cute.
When someone finally calls for her, she apologizes and walks away.
“So, you going to ask for her number?”
His eyes pop a little wider, and he rubs the back of his neck again.
“Do you think I should?” He looks back at her, this goofy grin coming over his face.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure, baby girl.”
I sit up, trying not to bother the IV line. So tired already, the motion makes my head spin a little.
“Why did you never remarry?”
This is a conversation I have never broached with him. I always hoped that at some point I wouldn’t have to.
“I, uh, dated, obviously. At first, I didn’t want to do anything when you were younger.” He cringes, his face folding into itself. “And then nothing was worth jumping into that again. I have had some long-term relationships, but I don’t know. I just didn’t want another marriage that I wasn’t sure would last.”
I remember those relationships. At first, they were all white women, but then it seemed like, over time, he shifted his interests. I never asked him why the preference, but now I’m tempted.
“Was there a reason you mostly only dated people the same race as my mother?” I can’t look at him as I ask, so instead I look at my nails.
The flower-bejeweled pattern keeps me from being nervous.
“No, not really. It’s just what I was attracted to at the time.”
“But why?” I look into his eyes, needing to see if he will tell the truth.
“I don’t know Monty. Why?”
I want to say that I need to know if he has self-hatred. I want to ask if he didn’t care about their microaggressions. I wonder how he doesn’t know why I would ask, and this starts to piss me off.
“We’ve never really talked about it, but you know my mother was racist, right?” I set my jaw and keep my eyes steady on him.
“I didn’t know. She wasn’t always like that.”
