Page 33 of Say He's Ready
“And you do?”
“We are trying here. We just want Malone happy.”
“And fuck my happiness huh? My happiness is Malone’s happiness and vice versa. Kim, chill or we can go back to how it was,” I warned grabbing Malones overnight bag. He came bouncing around the corner. He hugged his grandmother and grabbed my hand. I ruffled his hair and we made our way back to Teaghan’s. Now my thoughts were shifted, and I knew I had to be careful. Everything they said or did had anunderlying message. I just hoped they didn’t play with fire and try to come up against me.
“Sorry for telling that old hag about Ms. Tea. I really like her,” Malone commented.
“Chin up son,” I replied.
“Right, I stand behind what I said.”
“That’s right. And there’s nothing wrong with you liking Teaghan and telling someone. It’s not a secret, she’s just nosey,” we laughed and carried on, I wasn’t about to scold him. Teaghan’s scent lingered on my hands and clothing, it was bound to come out. When, how or why didn’t change that she was here to stay.
Teaghan
“So kid, what do you want to do first? I got movies, coloring books, nerf guns, chocolate, pizza, and ice cream.” Today would not be boring with me and Malone. I was still trying to loosen his father up. Malone was smart but his head didn’t need to be in a book all day every day. Before he blinked his childhood would be a distant memory. Houston was making him a target without knowing.
“Can we color first, eat pizza next and then watch movies?” “Today you make the rules.”
“Really?” he asked joyfully. I nodded my head and grabbed the coloring books and materials. I didn’t know how long I would be on pre-step mom duty, but I wanted to make the best of it. Malone had become like a little sidekick to me and seeing him operate as a normal child and not some prodigy would always be my goal.
I wasn’t a prodigy, but my childhood mirrored his. Always
prim and proper. Our family portraits weren’t fun. I always had a book in hand as a kid, riding a bike was too dangerous. It could mess up my pretty face and perfect legs. I didn’t play board games. If it wasn’t chess I couldn’t play. My school had uniforms, there was no individuality. My room never held posters of my favorite musical acts. I listened to Mozart in the womb, according to my mom.
That shit ruined my level of normalcy until I went off to college and heard Gucci Mane, Jodeci, Ledisi and aunt Jill. I didn’t fit in at first. I had nothing in common with my classmates. I stood out awkwardly because I didn’t know how to dance. 8 count dance routines were all I knew before college. It took me so long to get adjusted that I just started to try any and everything with any and everyone. I didn’t want that for Malone. My parents thought it was a privilege to be so cultured and me, I only viewed as a punishment I never wanted to experience again.
“Yep, we can do all of this until your dad gets back. Then it’s time to zip lips. Deal?”
“I love deals and secrets,” he screamed. I rolled my eyes because maybe it was a bad idea to keep secrets from Houston. Malone was his entire life and the idea of going against his rules felt awkward. He would never trust me again if I went against the grain and held something from him on top of that. I was at a crossroad.
“Well, just this one time. But we have to be very careful.” Houston treated Malone like a porcelain doll. He was cute enough to be one but a boy his age needed sports, playing in dirt and messy clothes. I was determined to make that happen.
I turned on some dreadful Kids Bop and we started the coloring contest. Malone was coloring outside of the lines
because he wanted to , and I enjoyed seeing him let go and be a kid. I swear it was the best feeling ever living vicariously through Malone. He screamed as I colored on his picture. He held it up and glared at it.
“It’s perfect,” he exclaimed.
“I agree. It deserves a sticker. Let me see if I have some.” Standing to my feet I ran to my office and found some of my stickers from the office. I grabbed the nerf guns as the doorbell rang. It was the pizza and it was right on time. I never did get that breakfast this morning.
Back in the front I sat the guns down and answered the door. The pizza and wings made my stomach growl. Malone shot me in the back with the sponge bullet and that meant war.
“That means war young man. But first, we feast.”
At the table, we gathered and said grace. I knew Houston wasn’t in church, but Malone still knew how to pray over his food. “Amen,” he said as I smiled at him. I said it back and we dug into the greasy pizzaand messy buffalo wings. My heart was overflowing with love for a little boy that may not have crossed my path had it not been for destiny.
“I’m having fun already. Daddy would have fun, but he doesn’t know what fun is.”
“Of course he does but he has to be a parent first. You’ll understand once you get older and have kids,” I explained. Malone had his dad all wrong much like I did at first. Houston came off as a stick but once he was comfortable and able to remove his dad hat he was such a good time. Full of inappropriate jokes and good vibes. I wanted him to show that side to Malone, but it wasn’t my place just yet.
“Do you have kids or am I enough?”
“You are more than enough and one day yes I would love to have kids of my own.”
“Would they be my brothers and sisters? I know my mom is dead, so I don’t understand that concept. I miss her and now that I know about her I feel like it’s unfair that she’s with Jesus and not with me. I think that’s why we don’t go to church. Jesus is there and we might run into momma,” he rambled taking me by surprise and making my head spin. I dropped my wing on to the plate as the conversation started to get a little heavy.
Houston and I hadn’t discussed this coming up and what I should and shouldn’t say. This was the uncomfortable part. I didn’t understand what my boundaries were. I wouldn’t dare cross them if I knew what they were. Right now Malone was looking for honesty and I wanted to be the voice to give it but shit how would Houston feel? Malone was so smart and familiar with far more than I was at his age, but he wasn’t my child.
