Page 50 of Mia

“You’ll find that out after you eat,” my father said, sitting a plate of bacon, eggs, and grits in front of me along with a glass of orange juice. “At least half.”

I didn’t argue with him. Instead, I picked up the spoon and ate. The first bite almost made me want to throw up. Not because it was nasty, but because I’d barely consumed anything other than a few bites here and there. There were days I could eat the food my family brought me and other days when I would literally throw it up because I had to force myself to eat. Still, I choked down half of this plate while Kerrion and our dad watched me.

“Are you gonna tell me why you barged in my house?” I asked, taking a sip of my juice.

“I want you to come with me somewhere,” Steel said.

“Where?”

“My therapy session.”

I frowned. “When did you start therapy?”

“After all that shit happened. I realized I was bottling up too much, and I needed to talk to somebody that would give me honest, unbiased feedback. A nigga felt like he was drowning.”

I sighed. “I don’t know how I feel about telling people my business, Steel.”

“It’s a process, Mia. I get it. We’re used to handling our own shit, but some things are beyond us, sis. This is beyond you. I love you and I want you to be in a better headspace. We all do. Dr. Baxter is great. She listens. She has a way of pulling shit outta your head that you can’t put in words. Just come with me today. Even if you do nothing but sit there, you should come.”

I traced the rim of my glass with my nail. “So I won’t have to say anything?”

“Not if you don’t want to. Honestly, the words have a mind of their own at times. You’ll find your voice even if you don’t mean to.”

I sighed heavily. “I guess I’ll go.”

He smiled and reached for my hands. I gave them to him, and he kissed my knuckles.

“I love you, sis,” he said.

“I love you too.”

I wasn’t feeling this, but knowing my brother had the courage to seek help gave me a little strength. Steel had always been in touch with his feelings. Him and Jaeda. My guess, it was the difference in the mother and stepfather they had. While all of my father’s baby mamas were affectionate and nurturing, they also had Mr. Hershel.

That was the calmest man I’d ever met. He never raised his voice. He was always gentle and peaceful. Always the voice of reason. My brother was more like him than he cared to admit. He got that savage side from our father, but his gentle spirit was a product of being raised by Hershel Jenkins.

I’d never admit it to my brothers, but I looked up to them. There was something about each of them I admired. Maybe seeing Steel bare his soul to a practical stranger would give me the strength I needed to work through my own shit.

Thirty minutes later, we were pulling in the yard of a nice one-story brick home. I looked around, confused, because I thought we were going to an office building.

“She does therapy out of her house?” I asked.

“Nah, this is her office. She likes to create an environment where you feel comfortable.”

“Hmm.”

He shut off his truck and got out to open my door. As we headed up to the front door, my nerves were on ten. I didn’t know what to expect or if I should expect anything at all. Kerrion rang the doorbell.

“Does she know you’re bringing me?”

“Yeah. We talked about it my last session.”

“And she just lets this happen?”

“Special circumstances.”

Just as I was about to say something, the door opened. There stood a beautiful, older black woman who looked to be my mother’s age. She had a friendly smile, and her aura was welcoming.

“Kerrion, nice to see you again.”