39
The next morning, as I cooked breakfast for me and Ryan, I told him about my conversation with Daddy and his apology.
“Well, it’s good that he apologized, right?”
I placed the bacon, eggs, and toast on his plate and set it before him. “If he meant it.”
“You don’t think he meant it?”
I sat across from him with my own plate. “I think he’s desperate to get back home. Probably got some young girl worrying the shit out of him and he can’t go back to Mama to get some peace like he was able to do in the past. Mama never argued or fussed. I bet he misses that.”
“So you think he’d go so far as to pretend to apologize to you? How would that help him get your mom back?”
“The first thing he asked me to do was talk to Mama on his behalf, ask her to take him back. I refused, so I think he’s trying to butter me up, get me on his side so I’ll help.”
He took a bite of bacon and shook his head. “If that’s what he’s doing, then it’s extremely fucked up, but I don’t know, Angie. I’d give anything for my dad to apologize to me or at least act like he’s sorry for the shit he put me through.”
“You ever go visit him or talk to him?”
“Hell, no. I avoid his ass at all costs.”
“What about your brother?”
He sighed. “Ang…I had to cut him off. I tried to be there for him, put money on his books and stuff, help him when he’d get out, but it’s like he wants to be in there. He’ll get out and be right back there in a month. Last time he got arrested, it was for driving a car. At least that’s the story he told me, that someone asked him to drive a car across state lines, all the way to Atlanta from Louisiana. Said they paid him $6000 to drive a car, and this ignorant nigga didn’t think maybe there were some drugs in it, didn’t even check the trunk. Now he’s locked up on federal drug charges. I can’t deal with that shit anymore. Makes my head hurt to think about him and my father.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “It is what it is.”
“At least you’ve got KC. Y’all are really good friends, right?”
“Yeah, we’ve been boys since freshman year of college. He’s good people. Always got my back but will tell me about myself in a minute. His little girl is my godbaby.”
I smiled. “And you got me.”
“I damn sure do. And I’m not letting you go.”
“That’s good to know.”
“Hey, when do I get to meet your friends? You met KC, sort of, and he’s the only friend of mine that really counts. You gonna let me meet your BFF?”
I set my fork down. “Uh…I don’t have any friends.”
He frowned slightly. “None, baby?”
I shook my head. “Other than Internet friends, no. I mean, I used to have some real-life friends, but after my best friend screwed my boyfriend of six years—the one you met at Coda—then married him less than a month after we broke up and had a of kids by him, I found it hard to trust anyone. So I just pushed everyone away.”
“Baby, damn. I’m sorry.”
“I actually miss having friends, too, just don’t know what to do about it. I mean, what do you do, call them up and say, ‘Hey, my bad for ignoring your calls for years’?”
“Nah, you call and ask how they’re doing, tell them you were in a bad place, apologize. And what about your sisters? Aren’t y’all close?”
“Not like we should be. Not like we used to be. I’m gonna fix that.”
“Good. Hey, Angie?”
“Yeah?”
“If you need me to stay home today, I will.”
“No, I’m fine. I don’t want you to get in trouble at work because of me.”
“I won’t, and if I do?” He shrugged. “But if you need me, I’ll stay.”
“No, I’m really fine. If I need you, I’ll call.”
He stood and kissed me, grabbed his last piece of bacon, and left.
I spent most of the morning thinking about my family. Called my mom, who sounded chipper and said things were great. I didn’t bother to ask about Lamar, but I was sure he or someone else was keeping her happy. She might have been wrong for sleeping with someone else while she was still married to my father, but it was also wrong for him to run over her and take her for granted like he did.
I got no answer when I called Nicky, but received a text from her saying she was in the middle of class. Renee didn’t answer her cell, and when I called Genesis, they told me she was out sick, so I decided to be a good little sister, dug in my freezer for the homemade chicken noodle soup I tried to always keep in supply, and headed over to Renee’s house. The soup was our maternal grandmother’s recipe. Grandma Hannah was long gone, but I’d begged and pleaded with her to show me how to make that soup when I was twelve years old, so her legacy lived on, so to speak.
I had to knock and ring the doorbell for five minutes before Renee appeared looking droopy-eyed and just plain worn-out.
“Damn, Nay. What did you catch? You look like holy hell.”
“It’s contagious. You better go,” was her response.
“Okay, I just wanted to bring you some of Grandma’s soup.” I handed it to her, and she just stared down at it. When she lifted her eyes, they were full of tears.
“Thanks, Angie. You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did. What is it? A stomach thing or a head thing? You don’t sound congested; you got the trots?”
She shook her head, opened her mouth to speak, and then I heard a sound that made me question my sanity—a baby crying. “You got a baby in there, Nay?”
“It’s the TV.”
“That ain’t no damn TV unless your ass has super surround sound.” I pushed past her and headed toward the sound. I didn’t have to travel far to find the baby in a car seat carrier thing on her living room floor. “Either you somehow managed to have a baby without me noticing or you called in sick to babysit?”
She shook her head. “Neither.”
“Are you even really sick?”
“N-no.”
I stared at the baby, and my stomach dropped. “Nay, whose baby is this?”
“Robert’s.”