CHAPTER THREE
Let Go
Blue
It’s sad that the visit with Shadow was easier than seeing my sister. My stomach aches as I walk toward the Woman’s Correctional Facility. I want to tell her personally that I’ll be taking over Bolt’s care and moving in. It’s the least I can do. I feel like I’m stepping into her life. It makes me uncomfortable because deep down, I know if I could’ve switched places with her over the years, I would’ve. Not because she’s more outgoing or classically beautiful—I never envied her that. We all shine in our way, and I’m okay being the smart one. Beauty fades, and I’ve seen what happens to used up women who have nothing but their looks to rely on.
What I wanted was Shadow and Bolt. It killed me watching her squander away the relationship with Shadow and a parental bond. Now here I am, feeling like a witch that sent out a wish and got what she wanted at a cost to someone else. I didn’t force her to make these choices. She did that all on her on. I’m so used to the guilt that comes with our relationship, it’s sickening.
My heels click over the concrete as I enter the Woman’s Correctional Facility. I’d dressed myself in bitch armor. Black jeans, black heels, a black tank top that hints at my curves without showing anything, and a black blazer. My makeup is flawless. My hair has been tamed and slicked back into a low ponytail. Being on point is a must when I’m dealing with Calla, because the crazy bitch lives to pick me apart. I can’t say when it started, but over the years it’s escalated.
Knowing the routine, I hand them my ID and get buzzed in. I endure the pat down, sign the proper papers, and let them guide me back to the visitation area. I sit on the stool and peer at the plastic that’ll be separating us. Funny, the wall we’ve built between us over the years is thicker and nontransparent. I haven’t been close to her in years, and now I don’t think I know who she is.
Like a caricature, she’s over the top, unbelievable, and fake. From the breast implants she made Shadow pay for, to the expensive makeup, acrylic nails, and the persona she never discards.
I wonder if she even knows who Calla is anymore. Soon enough, she’ll have nothing but time to think.
She comes in escorted by a guard. It’s only been a few days, and she looks gaunt. Her face is drawn. Dark circles bloom beneath her eyes like black holes. Without her war paint, she looks so vulnerable.
My heart aches. Despite my best efforts, I soften toward her.
She lowers herself onto the stool stiffly.
Images of hardened women surrounding her and laying down a beating make my stomach turn. Kings have power behind bars. They wouldn’t leave her vulnerable, but that won’t save her from everything. If she runs her mouth in here, she’ll pay.
Our gazes lock and everything else falls away. She’s my big sister. The one who let me sleep in her bed when I had nightmares, helped me learn to tie my shoe, and at one point, looked out for me. I reach for the phone first, and she follows suit. Placing the receiver to my ear I wait for her to speak.
“I guess Dad is pretty pissed if he sent you.” Her voice is raspy, and her eyes are red rimmed. Scarlet veins stand out.
“No, I asked to be the one to come here. Are you okay?”
“Do I look okay, Bluebell? I’m behind fucking bars and my family won’t even post bail.”
“I had nothing to do with that, Cal. That was Dad.”
Her face falls. She looks like a kicked puppy.
“I’m sorry, Cal—”
“I just bet you are. What did you come here for? Hmmm? To tell me you told me so?”
“What? No, why the hell would I do that?” I ask, stunned.
“Because you think you’re better than me,” she hisses.
I glance at the guard standing behind her, but he doesn’t seem inclined to break up the catty bickering.
“I didn’t come here for this,” I say. I refuse to engage or encourage her. I came here to tell her what was going on with Bolt and leave.
“Why are you here?”
“To let you know what’s going to happen to Bolt. Your son. You do remember him, right?”
“Fuck you, bitch. You’ve always been jealous that I have a son. Maybe if you weren’t so damn stuck up, you’d have a man by now and child of your own.”
I count to ten to keep from losing my cool. “Like I was saying, this is about Bolt. Now that you’re here and Shadow has six more months, it leaves Bolt in the wind. We need to tie up loose ends until Shadow gets out.”
“Let Dad take him,” she says.
“You know he won’t, not on paper, and you know why.” I glare at her.
She huffs. “So what? You just want me to sign him off to you? That’s rich. You’ve been trying to steal him from me since the minute he was born.”
“What are you talking about, Calla? All I ever did was help you. When you needed a babysitter, when he was sick, and you had to work. Whatever you needed, I’ve been there.”
“Right, ’cause you’re the perfect one.” She rolls her eyes.
“No one’s ever said that.”
“They didn’t have to. We’ve both had our roles and played them well.”
I scowl. I want to cut her down to size. It’s been a long time coming. The resentment in me is boiling up inside. I swallow it down. My beautiful nephew deserves the very best I can do for him. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I have the paperwork here. They’ll bring it to you to sign. I can’t tell you what to do. But we both know Bolt needs to be covered.”
“And you’ll what? Move him into your swanky apartment, and keep him away from the family?”
“No, I’ll move into your place, and give up my swanky apartment.”
“But you love that place.”
I shrug. “Family first.”
A wicked laugh erupts from her lips. “Give me the papers, I’ll sign them.”
It’s more to spite me than anything else. But it’s a means to an end, so I take it. I’ll be the whipping girl if it gets me what I want.
“How will it feel to be in my home with my son and my ex, and know neither of them will ever be yours?” she asks, taunting me.
I clench my jaw. Times like this I know one-hundred percent that she knew about my forever crush on Shadow. The slick smile on her lips makes me want to slam her face into the metal table she’s seated in front of. Calla has always had the magical ability to pull out the worst in me. I bite my tongue so hard I taste the unmistakable metallic tinge of blood. Gripping the edge of my chair I take deep breaths.
Silence falls as the papers are delivered. She signs and my tension eases. Once the papers reach my desk, I let out a sigh of relief. “You want to know how it’ll feel, Calla?” I whisper.
She nods.
“About the same way it’ll feel for you to be in here while I help Bolt grow, watch him graduate, and send him off to adulthood. All while living with the one man you procreated with who hates your guts.”
Her jaw drops.
I smirk. “We’re done here. Oh, and you’re welcome for the clean up on aisle Calla. If anything good can come out of this, it’s the fact you’ll be forced to get clean and hopefully, get your shit straight. I don’t feel competition, how could I? You’re a child in an adult’s body doing a piss poor job of managing her life. I don’t know where we went wrong, but I know it’s not on me. I think you woke up one day and decided to hate me. It used to bother me. Now, I’m just numb.” I push away, wave the paper at her, and stalk out with my head high. It feels good to be the one with the last word for once.
A weight lifts off my shoulders. I can’t worry about Calla, tiptoe around her feelings, take her abuse, and run a household with an angry teenager. It was time to let this go. When doubt creeps in, I remember what’s at stake and wrap Shadow’s words around me like a shield. I had at least one person behind me. Maybe that was all I ever needed.
This was my chance to fix all the things not working in my life. I deserve to be happy. Maybe if I tell myself that enough, I’ll begin to believe it. I welcome the sunshine on my face as I step from the beige building, inhaling the fragrant air and rejoicing in my freedom. The thing most of us take for granted, others pray for. I walk to my car with an extra sway to my step. I’m going to rock this moment, because I feel like a superhero walking into the sunset after winning a battle.
***
“Did she sign them?”
“Hello to you, too, Bolty,” I reply, closing the door behind me.
“Come on, Aunt Blue,” he all but whines.
“Of course she signed them. She wants what’s best for you, always,” I say softly.
“I wish I were young and naïve enough to believe those lies,” Bolt counters. His blue eyes are so like his father’s while filled with sorrow, and his eyebrows almost come to a point. His angular face takes on a sullen expression and his full lips turn down at the corners.
His words gut me. I want to pull him into my arms and hug him, but he’s long outgrown those days when a hug and kiss can make it better. “She does, she just doesn’t know how to be an adult, baby.”
“That’s no excuse.” He sneers.
I shake my head sadly. “No, it isn’t.”
“I always loved that about you.”
“What?” I ask.
“You never let her off the hook like Pops does. You just told me it wasn’t my fault.”
“Because it wasn’t and isn’t.”
“Yeah, I get that now, but back then…” He trails off, and shakes his head.
I hold my breath. It’s rare when he opens up these days, and I don’t want to spook him.
“I would’ve given anything to have her look at me and really see me. To make her love me the way—other mom’s do. Then I realized something. I might not have her, but I have always had you.”
“And you always will,” I say instinctively.
“I know, and I love you for that.”
He might tower over me at six foot two, but right now, all I can see is the four-year-old little boy who carried his blue blanket everywhere and followed behind me like a shadow. “Can I hug you?”
“I’d like that.”
I wrap my arms around his waist and hug him tight. “We’re going to be okay, me and you. I promise you that. I’m not trying to take your mom’s place. There are things I won’t get right on the first try. But if you give me a chance, I will learn. Don’t give up on me, Bolty.”
“I could say the same thing,” he replies.
The waver in his voice hurts my heart. “Never. What does my tattoo say?” I ask.
“Family over everything.”
“That’s right.”
He holds me tighter, and for a moment we’re two people adrift in a sea of hurt, change, and uncertainty.