Page 42 of Say He's Ready
Drunken Pat was starting to stir and wake up. I thanked God I never turned to anything addictive to numb the pain. Her hair was matted to her head, her nails matched the filth in the cell but as she came to she started to smile. I could promise there was nothing funny about being here. The longer I sat the more I feared needing antibiotics. But I still felt the peace be still vibe.
“Stay how you are,” she said, coughing.
“Excuse me?” I asked, looking around, knowing it was just us here.
“You’ve been under construction, and you should keep at it. Keep hitting boulders and knocking down walls. I know you have a hard time believing a drunk but listen to me Teaghan. Construction takes a lot of time and effort. It’s gruesome and tiring but listen, you stay the course. Renovation isn’t always planned, and you won't always get a notice, but once you’ve built yourself up how you see fit, you will get the glory and then you give the glory to the Most High. Bask in the uncomfortable yet peaceful state you are in right now. It’s time for newness. Godspeed,” she spoke as the guard called my name and opened the steel doors. I was being released but not ready to leave. I had questions for my new friend angel. I didn’t understand how she knew my name. Pat had been sleeping the entire time I sat in the cell. I couldn’t even be sure her name was Pat, but her military jacket had Pat on it.
“Who was that?” I asked as the officers started processingme out. Apparently, I wasn’t being charged and had no need to appear in court. I received a warning for not following directions and challenging the judge. I shrugged and rolled my eyes. This was a waste, but it was clearly meant to happen. I was thankful for the four hours spent.
“That’s Judy Ramey, she’s here all the time. Kinda like a prophet, well I know she used to be. Now she’s Monday through Thursday here.”
Grabbing my things, I signed the paper, slid it back, and left the precinct. On the front steps, I powered on my cell phone and started to order an Uber. Before I could power it on, my phone was snatched from my hand. Looking for the culprit, I came face to face with Houston.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey, did you get me out? If so, you didn’t have to.” I replied and looked off. I couldn’t make eye contact with him. I still had that feeling only he could provide. I always felt needed around him and right now I didn’t want to be needed. I just wanted to be.
“Well yes and no. Your little boyfriend gave me an envelope with money, he said something about go get your girl or something.” Houston was a bold face damn lie. Ain’t no way Bobby was missing an opportunity to show his face and show that he was the best man for me. He would be here soon with his car service and something over the top that he thinks will make me feel better.
“I know Bobby didn’t say that, so let’s try that again.”
“I was coming to get you, but the judge decided against giving you a record. But I am here to give you a ride home if you don’t mind. And before you come back with something super strong just hear me out for a second. I owe you an apology. I overreacted, and for that I’m sorry. It’s been rough not having your nurturing nature around. I pray that one day you will forgive me for all that I said and how I treated you. I know you would never hurt or bring harm to Malone.”
“Thank you for that and I appreciate you owning that you overreacted but let me ask you something. If I wasn’t a nurturer would I have a place in your life?” His apology didn’t fall on deaf ears, it was needed, but it didn’t change the revelation I had in that cell. I came off too strong, cast myself into people and their situations looking forsomething I could only give myself. I helped everyone and did nothing for myself.
“I don’t do what if’s Tea. You have been an amazing part of my life, and if we never go past who you’ve been, I’m fine with that. I’m open now, and that’s all thanks to you,” he responded. I had my answer, and I was comfortable with my decision to continue my construction with no help.
“I’m really glad I could help. Honestly, I wish you luck, and maybe our paths will cross again someday.”
“Is this about Bobby? I really thought that was just some publicity stunt. Teaghan, you don’t need a man, and especially not one like Bobby. I don’t care if I sound like a hater right now, but it’s true. You are good with or without someone. You have this spirit covering and following you. Don’t dim that,” he preached.
I snorted because he did sound like a hater but couldn’t have been righter. This wasn’t about Bobby; this was about me not giving time to others that I needed myself.
“No, Houston, this isn’t about Bobby, you lost the chance to ask me questions like that. I cared for you and was ready to say I love you because I did… do. And I just knew you did also. You showed your ass at the hospital, and I thank you for getting me to a moment of clarity. I thought you said you were ready, and guess what, you weren’t close. At the first sign of distress, I became your enemy. Thank you for seeing great things in me, but for now, this is where we end.”
“Is he bothering you?” Bobby asked, appearing from the shadows. He touched my arm, and I pulled away lightly. My mood was funky, and I just wasn’t in the mood for playing and the games right now.
“Bobby, please stop pretending that you really care for me. What we had was cool, but I know, and you know, this is all about where we come from and where you are trying to go. I wish you luck, but I can’t be by your side as you chart and go for the presidency. You will make a woman very happy one day, it just won’t be me. I have my own dreams that I’m not willing to give up, so you can see yours through. This was all planned, and you know it. It may have changed into something for you, but for me, I just can’t be a piece on the chessboard. Not for you, not for your campaign, and not for my father.”
“Teaghan, you are making a mistake. Your father is not going to be pleased.”
“I don’t give a shit, and you shouldn’t be ok with being a pawn in someone’s game. I need a man with a backbone. That’s not you. No hard feelings,” I explained. Any man I settled down with couldn’t be a minion of my father. I had to think about the future and marrying Bobby would be like marrying my father. That was a hard pass for me. “You two have a good night.”
As they began to walk away, I started walking to the nearby park. I ordered my Uber as I sat on the bench and started thinking about how I would construct my future the way I saw fit. I had so many plans, and it was time to start making a way and creating a path for myself. This life was mine, and after wishing someone would concede, I knew I had to be the one to kickstart it.
Houston
SIX WEEKS LATER
The sign was bigger than I imagined it would be.
I don’t know why that surprised me. I approved the dimensions myself, signed off on the font, and stood in the parking lot two weeks ago with the installer going over placement. But seeing it up there — Leslie’s Hardware Store, dark green letters on cream — hit different than looking at it on paper. I stood with my hands in my pockets, my neck tilted back, and I felt something move through my chest. Pride maybe. Grief probably. Both at the same time in a way that was becoming familiar.
The installer’s truck was still out front, two guys on a lift doing final adjustments to the mounting. The store wasn’t open yet. Inside it was boxes and sawdust and the smell of fresh paint and potential. I had been coming here every day for three weeks, watching it come together. Today was the first day it looked like what I had seen in my head for years.
Malone was somewhere in the back. I could hear him moving around, his sneakers squeaking on the new floors, him talking to himself the way he did when he was thinking hard about something. His therapist called it processing out loud. I called it being nine and having too much going on in that head to keep it all inside.
Dr. Wayans had been working with him for six weeks. Six weeks of Tuesday afternoons where I sat in the waiting room with a cup of bad coffee and listened to the muffled sound of my son learning how to say things he had been swallowing for three years. I didn't know exactly what he said in there. That was the point. Dr. Wayans explained it to me on the first day — Malone needed a space that was entirely his, where nothing he said came back to him through me. I agreed even though it was one of the hardest things I had done. Sitting outside that door, not knowing, was its own particular kind of work.
