“So why the men didn’t help her?”
“Maybe the sex was bad.”
We both cracked up.
“Was this before or after y’all ate, Mama?”
“Before.”
“How did you get everybody calmed down?”
“I didn’t. Channing came out of the house with Cecilia and Rodney hot on his heels. He got right in Anyae’s face and started blessing her out. In front of the whole family and the neighbors, too. Because remember, Anyae defeated the wicked witch of the South Side in my driveway.”
“Oh. Y’all ghetto, though,” I teased.
“That’s what Channing said. He told that little girl he didn’t bring her in front of his family to act like, and I quote,a trash ass ho. She must’ve still been fired up from taking down the wicked witch, because she slapped hot fire from Channing’s ass. He looked like he wanted to kill her, but Rodney jumped in frontof his son. He tried to calm Channing, while Cecilia tried to calm Anyae. It was too much.
“Me and your grandmother left them out there causing a scene. We went in the kitchen and made to-go plates for everybody. At that point, I wanted everybody out.”
“I can’t believe your Thanksgiving went like that.”
“It did,” she assured me. “Please tell me your holiday was better than mine.”
I told her about my Thanksgiving. I included everything from how we arrived at his grandparents’ estate to the smell of nothing, all the way to his fight with his grandmother before we boarded the jet.
“I feel like I’m coming between him and his grandmother. Like everything is all bad, and she doesn’t even know the worst of the situation yet. She’s this mad when she thinks Kaynaan’s the father. What is she gonna think when she finds out he’s not? I can’t let him put his relationship with his grandmother on the line for me and a baby that’s not even his.”
“Kaynaan is a man, Wyn. He doesn’t need you to fight the battle with his grandmother for him. I don’t think this is really even about you. It sounds to me like it’s about her trying to control the family’s image. This is probably a long-standing situation that just came to a head with the news about the baby. You didn’t talk to him after it happened?”
“No. I pretended to be asleep on the jet. The thought of him defending me and then having to admit that he’s not even biologically related to this baby makes me feel so . . . I don’t know, cringe. She’s never gonna look at me like I’m anything except a low-budget baby mama that Kaynaan rescued from a life of poverty and lack.”
She stared at me. “Is that what she’s gonna think of you or what you think of you?”
“Mama.” I sighed.
She held up her hands in surrender. “Look, I’m just saying. You’re putting a whole bunch of words in his grandmother’s mouth.”
I didn’t respond. My mother didn’t understand. His family was snooty. They would never see me as his equal. They would always see me as being beneath him. Beneath them.
“Before you make any big decisions about the relationship, talk to him. I know you have the tendency to ice people out. You wanna leave them before they leave you. Talk to him, Wyn. It’s obvious to anybody with eyes that you like him. And he has stars in his eyes for you. Don’t throw it away on a story you’re making up in your mind without talking to him.”
Of course, I didn’t take my mother’s advice. Rather than talk to Kaynaan while my mind was still cluttered and unsure, I avoided and ignored him. It was easy to do, because the Christmas season had begun, and I had a ton of custom orders. Most of them were from corporations that loved to give out the same little trinket to all their associates or special customers. Water bottles blinged out with the logo or visuals seemed to be all the rage. I had orders for three hundred water bottles from one company alone.
The first time I ghosted him, Kaynaan let me rock for two weeks. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but this time around, I only got three days before he showed up at my studio. I let him in after he bypassed the doorbell and banged on my door like he was the damn cops.
He walked into my studio and made a beeline for my worktable. He pulled up one of the stools that was usually reserved for customers to get comfortable and discuss designideas. My heart was beating double time, because I knew I was wrong for the way I’d been treating him—not responding to his texts and hiding in the back of my apartment the two times he stopped by. I knew he didn’t deserve the treatment, but I didn’t know how to handle the feelings I was feeling.
“Listen, Wyndsor,” he began, which made my heart not only beat faster but made me feel literally sick to my stomach. Because why was he calling me by my government, when he always called me Brown Eyes, Wyn, or Wyndi? “I came by to try to see . . . I don’t know, what’s up. This is the second time you’ve ghosted me. What’s your endgame here? You trying to get me to lose interest? You want me to walk away? I already told you that what I refuse to do is play a game with you that has no winners.”
Tears sprang to my eyes. “I’m sorry.” I didn’t bother to wipe them away, because I knew he was sick of watching me cry and wipe tears away. “It’s the pregnancy hormones.”
He nodded, but he didn’t reach for me, nor did his eyes hold any visible concern. He was probably over me and my stupid shenanigans. It was immature as hell for me, as a thirty-two-year-old woman, to keep ghosting him instead of saying what was on my mind. My mother was right. I should’ve talked to him before he had to seek me out to end things with me.
“I don’t know, lil mama. I’m a pretty patient guy. And I’m a hell of a go-getter. I see what I want. I set my sights on it, and I don’t stop until it’s mine. But maybe that was the wrong strategy for pursuing you. I told you that you’re mine, but maybe you never wanted that. Maybe you never wanted to be mine. Maybe you just went along to get along.” He took a deep breath. “I ain’t no fucking caveman. I’m not gonna club you, throw you over my shoulder, and carry you to my crib. You’re not mine. You’re yours. And with that, I’mma bow out.”
“Kaynaan!” I pleaded, not sure what else to say.
“You’re pregnant. Your thoughts are mingled up with your hormones. You need to concentrate on your shorty, not on making something shake with me. Sorry for distracting you from what’s most important.” He stood up from the stool.
