Chapter Six
Quinton sighed and shook his head as his mother asked the same question she always asked before they ended a phone call. “When are you going to settle down and give me some grandchildren?”
He’d heard that question consistently since he signed his contract to play professionally. Before that, throughout high school and college, all he’d heard from Laura and Willie Evans was “You better not get anyone pregnant” followed by “We can’t afford to take care of any kids you bring around” and wrapped up with “You know what will land you in jail faster than robbing a bank? Child support!”
After spending most of his life hearing about all the reasons why he couldn’t afford to have a kid and how he better not bring around any babies, you’d think they’d understand his hesitancy to have kids before he was ready. Quinton didn’t have any kids.
That you know of.
The thought crept into his mind as it always did when his mom asked. Thoughts of that one time he’d been desperate for money and had rushed into a decision that may have resulted in him having a child.
“Mom, when I’m ready to settle down you’ll be the first to know.”
“You don’t have to settle down to have kids,” his mom said.
Quinton still couldn’t believe she was uttering those words. She would have slapped him upside the head if he’d even thought those words in high school.
“She’s right, you know,” his dad chimed in.
Quinton scoffed. “Dad, you in on this, too?”
“I’m just saying,” his dad said. “Having some young’uns around would be kind of nice. You and your sister are grown. I missed all the fun stuff when you were kids because we were struggling to make ends meet. It would be nice to spoil a grandbaby.”
“If I do have a kid, I’m not spoiling it,” Quinton said firmly. “My kids will understand that you’ve got to earn things in life.”
His mom sucked her teeth. “Just because you struggled doesn’t mean my grandkids have to struggle. What’s the point of making all that money if you aren’t going to spend it on something worthwhile? Kids deserve to be spoiled.”
Quinton sat up from where he’d been lounging on the couch and pressed his free hand to his temple. “Excuse me, have you been invaded by a body snatcher? You are not the same person who raised me,” Quinton teased.
“Ain’t nobody snatch me. I’m ready for grandchildren. Is that so hard to believe?”
“Can you wait until I find someone I’d like to have kids with? I swear, the way you’re pressing you might be okay with me just having a kid with anybody.”
“You sure you don’t have any kids out there?” his dad asked. “I mean, you were in the league for eight years.”
Quinton shook his head. “Dad, stop it. You both know I wasn’t out there like that. I didn’t call for this. I called to check on how things were going. Did you get the pump on the well fixed?”
After he’d started playing professional football the first thing Quinton had done was get his parents out of the cheap apartment they’d struggled to keep and into a house of their own. They’d been worried he would tear or break something in the first year and be broke again. Knowing firsthand how easily an injury could end his career, Quinton made sure to take care of his body and quickly addressed any bumps and bruises. They’d finally agreed to move into a house in the country when he’d made it three years without any serious injuries. After years of being cramped in an apartment his parents wanted nothing but space and privacy. Living in a rural area meant they also had to deal with using a well for water, and the pump on the well had broken recently.
“I can fix the pump myself.” Stubbornness filled his dad’s voice.
Quinton rubbed his temples. He was tired of having this same conversation. “Dad, you don’t have to fix the well yourself. We can afford to have someone come check it out.”
“Why pay someone for something I can do myself? It’s a waste of money. Just let me handle it. We’ll be good.”
“No, you won’t. How is not having running water going to be good?”
“You remember all the times the water got cut off when you were younger. We survived then and we’ll survive now.”
“That was different. The water was cut off because we couldn’t pay the bill. Now I can afford to take care of things. I’m sending someone tomorrow.”
“I don’t need someone to—”
“I don’t care about what you need,” he cut off his dad. “I care about making sure you have water in the house.”
“Quinton!”
“Dad, I’m not arguing about this. Someone will be there first thing in the morning.”
His mom jumped in. “If you want to send someone then go ahead.”
“Laura!” his dad exclaimed. Clearly upset that his wife was accepting their son’s help.
“Let it go, Willie. Quinton wants to do this for us so let him.”
His dad grumbled a little longer then finally agreed. Quinton understood his dad’s hesitancy. For so many years his parents had done everything they could to keep the family afloat. They’d worked multiple jobs, went without eating so their kids could eat, and found ways to make a dollar stretch for thirty days. All while never asking for help and always finding a way to make ends meet. Their refusal to ask for help was part of the reason why Quinton had made the decision in college to get money by any means possible instead of asking his parents to help him when he needed shoes, books or his partial scholarship only made a small dent in his tuition. He’d done what needed to be done to make it to the pros so that he could make their lives better. He wouldn’t let his parents suffer because of pride.
Halle sat at the kitchen table looking up activities for cousins’ weekend later that month. Cousins’ weekend was an idea she’d come up with to stay connected with her extended family. Once her great aunt who used to plan family reunions passed away and the get-togethers stopped, she’d missed hanging out with her cousins who were like siblings to her. So, she’d started planning the yearly get-together. She and her cousins got together and played games, competed in little activities and grilled out. Even though it was Halle’s idea, her cousin, Kayla, had helped her plan each one.
Shania came into the kitchen and came toward Halle.
“Hey, sweetie,” Halle said, not looking up from the laptop.
“Mom, can I ask you something?”
Halle turned away from her laptop and gave Shania her full attention. “Sure, but first tell me what you think. Tug-of-war or a spades tournament?”
Shania pursed her lips. “Tug-of-war. You know Mick gets real crazy when y’all play spades.”
Halle laughed when she thought of how serious her first cousin got whenever they played spades. “That’s part of the fun. Watching him act a fool.”
“Let’s just put him on the grill and not have him act up.”
Halle nodded. “You’re right. We don’t need anyone acting a fool. Our family has enough foolishness as it is.”
Shania grabbed the back of the chair next to Halle and raised her brows. “Soooo, about my question.”
“What is it?”
Shania squirmed for a second before blurting out. “My dad.”
The smile on Halle’s face fell away. “Shania...”
“Are you really not going to tell me who he is?” Shania asked, her eyes narrowed.
“Why are you dragging this out? I told you not to worry about him.”
“I just don’t believe that you’d keep this a secret from me. Why?”
“Because you’re better off not knowing him, that’s why.” Halle stood and went to the fridge.
“I don’t believe you. Are you ashamed? Did you do something you weren’t supposed to? Did you keep me a secret from him?”
“You’ve been watching too many television shows.”
Halle opened the fridge and pulled out a soda. The movement allowed her to avoid meeting her daughter’s eyes. She wasn’t ashamed of what she’d done, but she also didn’t want to face the judgment of her family, friends and possibly her daughter if they knew the truth.
“I want to know.”
She turned back to her daughter and held up a hand. “No, Shania. Stop it. I’m not going to get into this with you. Not tonight and not ever. Your dad is not a part of our life. Haven’t I given you enough? Why won’t you trust me on this?”
Shania crossed her arms. “Because you won’t tell me anything. Nothing about him. Even if he was a deadbeat who hated you that would be better than you telling me nothing.”
“Are you bringing this up because you want a dad?”
“It’s not about wanting a dad. It’s about knowing who I am. Where I come from.”
“You know where you come from. Me. I gave birth to you. I raised you. I gave you everything you needed. Now you want to throw all that away just to find some random guy?”
Shania scowled. “Random guy?”
Halle sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She’d said too much. Gone too far. “That’s it. Stop asking me. I’m not going to talk about this anymore.” Her voice tightened as frustration squeezed her.
Shania uncrossed her arms and placed her hands on her hips. Her eyes flashed defiantly as she stared back at Halle. “I’m not giving up on this.”
Halle pointed at her. “Yes, you are. This is over and done with. If you want a dad, then I’ll find you one.”
Her daughter scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I don’t want you to find me one. I’d rather you stay single forever than try to be with some guy just because you think it’ll make me stop asking about my real dad.”
Halle flinched as Shania’s words stoked the fire of her guilt. That was what this was about. Halle had told Shania that she was dating Gregory and now Shania thought she was just trying to distract her from her questions about her dad. The situation would be laughable if the thought hadn’t crossed her own mind. Halle liked Gregory and wanted to make their relationship work, but the more she’d hoped things would work out with Gregory, the more she’d wondered if Shania would stop asking questions if they became a real family.
She hated that the thought had even slipped into her head. She’d thought that she was enough for Shania. When she’d made the decision to have a child on her own, she’d been young and hadn’t thought about the eventual questions she’d be faced with. She didn’t want to be with Gregory just to make Shania stop asking questions about her dad, and she didn’t want Shania to think she was with Gregory for that reason.
“This conversation is over.”
“But, Mom—”
She held up her hand for Shania to stop. “Don’t but Mom me. This is done. I’m serious, Shania. Don’t bring this topic up to me again. It’s over, you hear me? Let it go.”
Shania stared back. Rebelliousness in her eyes. The same rebelliousness that had burned in Halle whenever she’d argued with her parents about why she should be allowed to attend a protest or rally. Halle met her daughter’s gaze unwavering. They were both just as stubborn, just as tenacious, when they wanted to know something.
After a few tense seconds, Shania shook her head before turning and rushing out of the room. Halle let out a sigh. She went back to the kitchen table and sat in her chair. She took a long sip of the soda and wished she’d chosen something stronger. Shania was getting more and more insistent about this. Halle had been able to deflect and change the subject easily for years, but now her daughter was persistent in knowing the truth. She didn’t know what to do. Halle didn’t believe for a moment that this was done. Anxiety clawed at her throat, and she squeezed her hands into fists. What would she do if Shania found out the truth behind her birth? How would her daughter feel to learn that her dad really and truly was some anonymous donor? It might break her heart even more to know there really was no way to find him.