Page 59 of My Little Doe
“Oh… you sound almost jealous,” I said.
“Sometimes I was. I think most women want a love like that,” she said.
“What did you have?”
“I did have something like that at first, and then after Malika, we both lost parts of ourselves. What I didn’t share the other day was that when I got to the hospital, the doctors took what made me a woman. I thought it was because I was a black woman and they treated me so poorly. I couldn’t have babies anymore, and he started drinking. I focused on taking care of women—especially black women—better. He killed himself a few years later,” she said.
“Oh, my Lord… I’m so so sorry,” I gasped out.
“He blamed himself for not being here, for not taking care of me better in my postpartum, not speaking out for me, and everything else,” she said, tears streaming down her face.
I pushed my bowl to the side and reached across the table, grabbing her hands. I gently squeezed them to let her know I was there with her. There were no words then, and there weren't any now. It was her grief.
“Well, that’s enough of all of that. Quinn may have mentioned you brought up Christmas,” she said.
“I actually almost forgot, until we were talking about him training me, and then I realized what tomorrow was,” I said.
“Did you celebrate at home?”
“Oh yes! We had a big ol’ tree. My mom layaway’d all year for our presents. She had so many flaws, but she showered us with gifts and candy on Christmas. Then we would have a big Christmas supper with all the traditional fixins,” I told her.
A smile took over my face. Thinking of how excited Aspen was waking up to all the presents and stockings crammed full of candy and little gifts. The smile quickly faded as it hit me that I wouldn’t be seeing her little face, that I wouldn’t be seeing any of them. I planned to get her Polly Pockets and Barbies. Izayuh would havestill been safe within me, but I’d be gathering items for him. Salty tears hit my lips. I quickly wiped them away.
“It’s okay to be sad about not seeing them,” she told me, squeezing my hands this time.
“Thinking of Aspen’s little face made me so happy, but then it made me so freaking sad,” I told her.
“Well… I brought something for us to do,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“A Christmas tree, lights, and some bulbs. Nothing too crazy,” she said.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be this evening—Christmas Eve and all?”
“There is no better place I’d rather be than here with you,” she said.
Chapter 18
Lina and I spent hours putting together the tree, stringing lights all around, and adding ornaments. Throughout the evening, howls were heard all around the cabin. She left around midnight, and I finally climbed into bed. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I fell asleep quickly.
My eyes fluttered open. I’d never get used to waking up to the smell of bacon. The room was bright from the morning sun. I had slept in much longer than I normally did. I climbed out of bed and walked into the hallway.
The smell of coffee hit my nose. It was different from what I’d usually smelled before. Stronger. Nuttier. I also smelled bacon and ham. My eyes drifted to the Christmas tree that sat in the corner of the living room, near the fireplace. I tilted my head slightly. Three presents. As I rounded the corner, Quinn was standing in the kitchen. He stirred a pot of grits while loading plates. It smelled so good in here. My mouth instantly watered.
“Merry Christmas, Zay,” he said.
“Merry Christmas, Quinn,” I told him.
“I’ve made a hearty breakfast and chicory coffee,” he said.
“You’re still hungry after… hunting,” I said.
“No hunting occurred,” he said flatly.
He pulled bacon from the pan and handed me a plate. There were hot grits, a buttery biscuit, a slice of bacon, a half slice of ham,and scrambled eggs. My stomach rumbled in response to the smell of food hitting my nose. We both sat down at the table and ate quietly for several minutes.
“There are presents under the tree,” I said.
