Chapter 13

Tate

 

A month later

 

Tate pushed around the food on his plate, occasionally putting a bite into his mouth. He wasn’t even sure what his mom had cooked. It was the first time he’d been to family dinner in months. Tate had avoided attending as much as possible after his father’s blowout last fall—another reason he had never brought Reece with him. He’d been walking around in a haze for the past month…since he’s last spoken to Reece.

His ex-boyfriend.

Tate still did LJ’s hair about twice a week, but now she came downstairs to his house, Reece watching from their front door until she’d made it down to his place. He’d sent her with money in an envelope and hadn’t spoken a word to Tate.

Each time his little ladybug came by, his heart soared with the hope that her dad would finally speak to him, but then each time she left, he curled up and cried because the silence continued. It was so bad Wednesday night that he’d considered telling LJ that it would be best if she didn’t come by anymore, but it would crush the little girl.

And who was he kidding? It would break his heart too. They’d become so attached to each other—LJ confiding in him about her fears about living with her mom. He was terrified that Jenna would take her, and that he wouldn’t get to see her anymore, especially since he and Reece had apparently broken up. He’d relished the time he spent braiding LJ’s hair and gave himself permission to feel all his feels each time she left. He was functioning, but just barely, and he wondered when this funk would let up.

“No wonder you look so frail, Tate.” His brother Derek cut into his thoughts. “Not much of that food has actually made it into your mouth, man. Mom’s cooking falling off? Ow!”

Mrs. Robinson reached over and popped Derek upside the head, making Keilani giggle. Tate feigned a smile, but his other siblings and even his father were looking at him with…concern?

“My stomach has just been a little sensitive is all. I had a stomach bug for about a week or so,” he explained weakly.

“Never heard of stomach bugs in the summertime, but okay, man,” Aaron commented skeptically. Tate felt himself getting frustrated. What did they care anyway? They didn’t actually give a shit about him. Why were they all so worried about his weight and diet?

“I’m happy to get you something else if your stomach is too sensitive to handle the meatloaf, sweetie,” his mother offered. Before he could even tell her no thanks, his father interjected.

“The boy’s fine. Stop coddling him.” Tate Sr. gave his namesake a pointed look. “Suck it up, nothing wrong with that meatloaf or your sensitive stomach.”

“Because real men don’t get stomach aches and can’t have broth and crackers?” Mrs. Robinson fired back quietly but vehemently. The room went still from the shock of her little outburst; Tate’s meek mother never challenged her husband and certainly not in front of their sons.

She stood and took Tate’s plate before he could protest. “While you’re in my house, you’re going to eat something, even if it’s just broth. You’re entirely too thin.”

Tate had lost about fifteen pounds since he and Reece had broken up. He just hadn’t had an appetite, but he hadn’t realized how gaunt he must look. His mother disappeared into the kitchen and his father gave him a disapproving look.

“You haven’t been around here in six months, and your selfishness has hurt and upset your mother, made her wonder why you stay away. And now, when you do finally show up, you sow discord between me and my wife, I—” His father’s words were cut short when his mother came back, setting a bowl of piping hot broth and a dish of saltines in front of Tate before pausing and kissing the top of his head like she used to do when she was a little boy.

She took her seat again, giving him a pointed look. “Eat, son. Please.”

He nodded, wanting to cry into the fragrant liquid in front of him. He hadn’t felt that kind of warmth, tenderness, and caring from a member of his family in a long time. Feeding people was how his mother showed she cared…like Reece. Slurping down the flavorful liquid was like drinking in his mother’s love.

“Thanks, Ma,” he said, giving her his first real smile in weeks. She smiled back at him before picking up her fork and tucking back into her own meal. Tate’s father was still tense with displeasure, Tate’s siblings and their significant others on high alert for another outburst, but after a few minutes of nothing but the sound of cutlery scraping against dishware and chatter from his nieces and nephews at the kids’ table, the tension dissipated.

“So, Tate, you seeing anyone?” Keilani stuffed another bite of meatloaf in her mouth, staring at Tate Sr. in challenge. Tate wanted to sigh and could already feel himself shrinking in his seat, heat creeping up his neck as his father’s jaw ticced. The tide of embarrassment and shame was so strong that Tate suddenly felt short of breath, then he looked around the table at his siblings and their spouses and came up for air as a few things became clear to him.

He didn’t have to feel like this, and he didn’t have to be alone. He could have had someone sitting next to him at this table, but he’d chickened out, afraid of what his father would think. But it didn’t seem to matter anyway, because despite the fact that Tate had tried to stay away and had never brought a man home with him, his father was still ashamed of him.

So what was Tate torturing himself for? What good came of sabotaging his own relationship and hurting Reece by never bringing him to family dinner to avoid the ire of his father? Tate still didn’t have his father’s respect, and Tate still felt humiliated and ashamed every time he showed up for Sunday dinner. Only now, he couldn’t even go home to the comforting arms of his man. Tate had played himself. And just like that he grew a damn spine.

Tate pulled the cloth napkin off his lap, tossing it on the table and looking at Keilani. “I was seeing someone, my boyfriend, Reece, for the better part of a year. He’s incredible.” Tate smiled, thinking of Reece’s grin, how smoothly he navigated a kitchen, how tender he was with LJ, and the way he spooned Tate at night as they chatted before drifting off to sleep. “But I was too chickenshit to bring him to Sunday dinner and introduce him to you all and that was one of the reasons we broke up. I gave up the one thing I love more than my shop, because I didn’t want him see how little I mean to my own family. I didn’t want him to see how much it fucking hurts to be dismissed as a disappointment and embarrassment.” Tate sucked in a watery breath.

Fuck it, why bother holding back his tears when they still thought of him as weak anyway? He roughly brushed his face before one of his sisters-in-law pressed a tissue into his hand. He mopped up then took a deep breath, scooting his chair back from the table.

“So yeah, Keilani, I’m not seeing anyone anymore, but thanks for asking.” He looked around the table at his family, not sure when he’d see them again, then walked out the door without another word. The look of guilt and regret on his father’s face made him want to stick around for a few moments longer, just to see if the man had a response worth listening to, but years of the man’s coldness made Tate keep walking.

***

Reece

It was Monday morning, and Reece was at court instead of at work. He couldn’t stop his leg from bouncing as he sat outside the courtroom waiting for his case to be called. He hated courthouses. He was unsettled by the environment even though the courthouse wasn’t at all intimidating in its appearance. Nothing like what he’d seen in TV—ornate with marble and echoing hallways bustling with lawyers in boring suits.

The lawyers in boring suits part was accurate, but the building itself was modern with grocery store lighting, and the courtroom had carpet from what Reece had seen when he’d taken a quick look inside. Not much had changed from when he’d been sentenced for selling weed all those years ago or from when he’d gotten full custody of LJ not long ago. He hoped that he left the courthouse today feeling as happy as he had that last time, but given his previous experiences at the Sacramento Superior Courthouse, his odds were fifty-fifty.

“Yo, man, relax,” Kam said, putting a hand on Reece’s bouncing leg. His best friend had taken off work to support him—no questions.

He’d picked Reece up from the apartment that morning in slacks, a dress shirt, and tie. Kam spent most of his time covered in dust and grime from the construction work he did, but the man loved to dress up at any opportunity he had. It almost made Reece smile.

“You’ve had LJ all this time. You’ve been on your job for years. You’re going to school and have your own place.” Kam folded his arms over his chest, the sleeves of his white and purple checkered dress shirt bulging around his huge arms as he leaned back against the dark brown bench they were sitting on in the hallway. “The judge would be crazy to take her from you, man. You got this.”

Reece let out a deep breath, mirroring Kam and leaning back against the bench, resting his head against the wall and closing his eyes, but the knot in his belly wouldn’t go way. He wished he had Kam’s confidence. The man really believed Reece was going to win his case, but Jenna was LJ’s mom, and society thought kids were better off with their mothers.

He cracked his eyes open and looked across the hallway at Jenna who was sitting between her parents in a knee-length, loose black dress, low black heels, and her hair pulled back in severe bun. Hell, she even had her reading glasses on today. She looked like a Sunday school teacher or a woman on the verge of going into a convent—someone you’d trust completely with a child. She caught his eye then looked away quickly, her jaw clenching so hard Reece could see it from where he sat.

He hadn’t spoken to her when he’d walked in, even though she’d sent him numerous text messages and left him voicemails asking to talk in the week leading up to the hearing. He hadn’t responded to any of them, and the only reason he hadn’t blocked her was because she was LJ’s mom, and he wanted the woman to be able to contact him in the event of an emergency. But as far as he was concerned, there was nothing else to talk about, so he’d ignored her like he was doing now. Reece hated being at odds with his child’s mother. 

He also hated feeling so helpless and at the mercy of some random judge who didn’t really know anything about him or his kid. The judge had no idea how heartbreaking it was every time LJ woke up screaming for him in the middle of night after having another nightmare that she was trapped and alone, unable to reach her dad on the phone and her mother gone again. No idea about how Reece panicked at the thought that LJ’s nightmare could come true if Jenna got custody of her. His gorge rose at the thought.

He swallowed to keep it at bay, closing his eyes again, trying to get the picture of his terrified daughter out of his mind. Instead, he thought about all the memories they’d made together. Remembered how his chest puffed with pride when she scored her first touchdown. Remembered how beautiful she’d looked in her lime green fluffy dress at the father-daughter breakfast he’d attended with her a few months before school let out. Reece thought about how much he loved the sound of her chatter, laughter, and playing in the background as he did homework. Or the sound of her and Tate chatting while the other man braided her hair.

Knowing that in a matter of minutes, he could lose all that, knowing that he’d already lost part of it, stole Reece’s breath. Fuck. He’d lost Tate and now he was going to lose his daughter.

Reece leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, dropping his head between his legs as his throat began to close up and his chest tightened making it hard to breath. He stared at his cheap black loafers and focused on breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth to keep the panic at bay.

“Reece, man, you all right?” Kam’s voice sounded far away and a low hum started in his ears. He kept breathing, but it didn’t feel like he was getting much more air in his lungs.

The cotton of his dress shirt stuck to his skin under the black blazer he’d worn. It was the suit he wore to job interviews and funerals, and it currently suffocated him.

His vision was hazy and the sounds in the hallway became more muffled. Kam was speaking to him, but he couldn’t manage to get any words out, too focused on getting air in his lungs.

Through his cloudy vision, Reece saw Jenna’s legs uncross, her feet taking a few steps toward him, but then suddenly another pair of heeled feet and pantyhose-clad legs crowded Reece’s field of vision. He saw the legs bend down in a squat before him, and then he felt a small but rough, cool, hand cup the back of his neck.

“Breathe, sweetie.” The cool touch and low melodic voice cut through the humming noise in his ears and permeated his muscles. After a few seconds, the tightness in his throat loosened, and he gulped down a huge breath like he’d been held underwater for several minutes and had finally broken the surface.

“Yeah, there you go. That’s it. Take another breath.”

Reece followed the voice’s instructions, breathing deep and exhaling, his body going limp and now damp with sweat. He breathed in again and exhaled. Breathed in. Exhaled. And kept doing it until he didn’t have to talk himself through it anymore and his body took over naturally. All the while, the cool hand rhythmically squeezed his neck and the soft voice coached him through until he mustered the energy to lift his head.

“Mama?” he mumbled before her arms and the scent of shea butter and baby powder surrounded him. He didn’t realize until this moment how comforting that scent was. He dropped his head on her shoulder and squeezed her back.

He was a grown man, waiting at a courthouse to fight for custody of his own child, but in that moment, he felt like a kid himself, unsure and afraid and in need of his mama’s assurance.

Darlene slid on the bench next to him only relinquishing her hold when Reece pulled back and could breathe easily again. She kept an arm around him, her short slim arm barely making it around his broad shoulders as he downed the bottle of water that Kameron had pressed into his hand.

Once he’d finished the water, Kam took the empty bottle from him and disappeared down the hall to dispose of it, leaving Reece alone on the bench with Darlene. Finally, she dropped her arm, folding her hands in her lap. The two of them sat side by side in silence as people shuffled through the stark hallway.

“I do believe in you, son,” Darlene whispered. “You’re a good man and an exceptional father, and I’m proud that you’re my son.” She reached over, hesitated for a moment, then dropped her hand on top of Reece’s. “I’m sorry for making you think anything different. You’re not the kid you were in high school.” She sighed, wilting a little against his arm. “And you’re not your father.”

Reece looked at Darlene, stunned by her admission. Her face was stern, but her eyes were earnest.

“You’re your own man, and I’m sorry for taking all my frustrations with your father out on you. In spite of my shortcomings, you came out exceptional as far as I’m concerned, and I should have told you sooner.”

Reece smiled his first genuine smile in weeks as unsettled feelings he hadn’t realized he’d even had calmed. The peace that his mama’s words had given him was exactly what he’d needed in that moment.

“Mama—” The door to the courtroom swinging open interrupted him.

Reece’s lawyer poked his head out and Reece stood. “Mr. Evans, the judge is back. We’re ready.”