Chapter 3
Keelan had been on summer break for two weeks, and his mood had completely shifted. I hadn’t realized how down he’d been during the few weeks of school, and I was glad he was back to his happy-go-lucky self.
The moment he walked out of that school on the last day, it was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. His smile was brighter, his voice was lighter, and his happy energy was contagious.
Against Keelan’s wishes, I spoke with the principal and his teacher about the bullying he’d been enduring. His teacher claimed she hadn’t noticed anything, and she and the principal said they’d keep an eye on the situation.
It seemed neither of them took our conversation seriously because two days later, Keelan got into a fight with one of the boys. They tried to suspend him, but after reviewing the camera footage, they saw that he was only defending himself. Instead, they sent him home for the remainder of the day.
A few months ago, I took a chance and completed an entrance form and scholarship application for Keelan to attend Black Elm Academy, a private school. Last week, I received notice that he’d been accepted, and I only had to pay 20 percent of the tuition.
Although I didn’t know much about the students who bullied him, I prayed they were attending public school, and Keelan wouldn’t have to worry about them. Eventually, I pushed the incident to the back of my mind.
He attended a summer enrichment camp from Monday through Thursday, and any other activities he participated in were in the evenings or on weekends. The art class he signed up for was offered in the evenings at Black Elm Academy and began at the end of June.
After the first day of summer camp, he came home talking about a new friend, and every day since, he had a story about something they’d done together at camp. I was happy he’d connected with someone because he rarely talked about other kids.
On Fridays during the summer, I only worked a half-day and spent my afternoons with my son.
We typically went out for lunch before doing something Keelan suggested, such as visiting parks or museums or going to the beach.
His father continued to be a no-show, so I did my best to ensure Victor’s absence wasn’t felt.
“Mom, do you think I can go to Trey’s birthday party?”
We’d just been seated at Black Elm Breakfast Bistro, and I was a little surprised by his question. The last time Keelan was invited to a birthday party, he was six or seven years old.
“You want to go?”
“Yeah, and maybe one day he can come to our house.”
Still surprised, I clarified, “I don’t mind either of those things, but this is new for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You haven’t gone to a birthday party in a few years, and you’ve never had a friend over.”
He shrugged. “I talked to some kids at school, but they weren’t really my friends.”
It was crazy how he’d figured that out at such a young age, but I suspected there was another reason.
“I understand that, but are you sure there wasn’t another reason?”
He hesitated briefly. “I didn’t want anyone to see you and Dad arguing.”
My intuition was spot on, and I nodded. “Your father and I argued a lot, and I’m sorry you had to be a witness to that.”
“It was mostly Dad’s fault.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah. Dad’s not a nice person. You’re nice, but Dad made you be mean a lot of times. He was like the bullies at my old school.”
“How so?”
“It’s hard to be nice to people when they’re mean to you. When they pick with you over and over and over again, until they force you to be mean back.”
His analogy and perception amazed me. It was easy to forget he was the ten-year-old child that I’d birthed.
“That’s what you think happened with your father and me?” He nodded. “Am I better now?”
“Much better, and you’re always in a good mood.”
Tears filled my eyes, but the emotional moment was interrupted when the server came to take our order. Keelan and I had barely looked at the menu, so she took our drink order to give us more time. When she returned with our drinks, we placed our order.
“So, can I go to Trey’s party?” Keelan asked again.
“Sure, but I’d like to meet his mom or dad first.”
“His mom picks him up from camp. Maybe you can meet her next week.”
“Do you know when the party is?”
“No, but I think it’s soon. He’s gonna give me an invitation.”
“Okay.”
The light in Keelan’s eyes had been dim, and I was happy to see a glimmer in them again.
After lunch, we visited the Black Elm Art Institute.
It was Keelan’s favorite museum and where he liked to go most often.
A few hours later, we stopped home to take Que out before going to my mother’s house.
I turned into the driveway and parked behind my sister’s car.
“Hey, Nana. Hey, Auntie Mimi,” Keelan greeted after rushing inside, giving them hugs and kissing their cheeks.
“Hey, Grandson. What did you and your mom do today?” my mother, Rochelle, asked.
“We went to breakfast and to the art museum. Can I go watch TV?”
“Go ahead,” she told him, and he disappeared into the family room.
“You look cute,” my sister, Naomi, complimented as we exchanged a hug. I hugged my mother as well before joining them at the kitchen table.
“Thank you. What are you two up to?”
My mother managed an upscale boutique in Downtown Black Elm, and my sister worked for social services in a neighboring town as a case manager.
“Trying to figure out what to do for dinner,” my mother said.
“Keelan usually wants pizza on Fridays.”
“Pizza sounds good . . . or maybe Chinese. I have a taste for egg rolls and fried rice,” Naomi added.
“That sounds good. When are you ordering?”
“As soon as we decide. Who’s gonna pick it up?” Ma asked.
“I guess I’ll go since I’m blocking everyone in,” I volunteered.
The restaurant with the best Chinese food was old school and didn’t have an app. We had to call our order in and pay when we arrived to pick it up. After deciding what we wanted, my mother placed the order and was told it would be ready in an hour.
“Leave it to Black folks to open a Chinese fast-food restaurant, and the wait time is always an hour,” Ma said when she ended the call.
“You know how our people do. At least the food is worth the wait,” I said.
“True.” They agreed.
“I’ll send you the money to cover the bill,” Naomi offered.
“You don’t have to pay for my food,” Ma said as she dug a hundred-dollar bill from her purse. “As a matter of fact, I’m treating tonight. This is enough to cover it all, and you can keep the change.”
“Okay, money bags,” I teased. “Should we be thanking you or this new man you’ve been hiding from us?”
“New man? I plead the fifth,” she denied.
“Whatever, Ma. Thanks for dinner, but you don’t have to hide your man from us. I assure you, we don’t want him,” Naomi told her.
“He’s old enough to be your father, so I’m not worried about y’all. I just want to make sure he’ll be around for a while before you meet him. Y’all got plans this weekend?” Ma asked, changing the subject.
I smacked my lips and rolled my eyes. “Not that I had plans, but it’s supposed to be Victor’s weekend. He bailed, once again.”
“Damn, Sis. When was the last time he actually showed up?”
“At least two months.”
My mother shook her head and said, “It’s probably for the best.”
“I agree, which is why I don’t make a big deal of it. Keelan doesn’t seem to care either. He asked if I could tell the judge he didn’t like going with his father.”
They gasped.
“Keelan said that from his own mouth?” Ma questioned.
“He sure did, and I wish it were that simple.”
“It should be. The courts should always take the child’s desires into consideration,” Naomi said.
“Especially when the child is smart and can verbalize his thoughts and feelings the way Keelan does,” Ma said.
“Have you reported his no-shows to the courts?” Naomi asked.
“I told my attorney, and she told me to keep a log in case we have to use it in court, but the judge will want just cause to change or remove his visitation rights. Victor is a horrible role model, and Keelan doesn’t like being around him, and I wish he didn’t have to be.”
“Is he still paying child support?” Ma asked.
“Only because it comes directly out of his check.”
“Tuh. I’m surprised the nigga ain’t quit his job to get out of it,” Naomi said, and I agreed.
“I’m so glad you got out of that marriage. I can’t tell you the number of nights I lost sleep worrying about you and Keelan,” my mother said.
“I’m glad too. Even though Victor never put his hands on me, I always felt like he was on the verge of knocking my head into a corner. I eventually learned how to avoid feeding into his narcissistic rants, but living life on pins and needles was exhausting.”
“I can imagine,” Naomi said.
“I’m always worried about the residual effects of so much toxicity on Keelan, but after our conversation today, I’m probably raising the most emotionally intelligent ten-year-old in the world. You can’t tell me that therapy doesn’t work.”
When I separated from Victor, Keelan started therapy and went once a week for about a year and a half. His visits decreased to twice a month then, eventually, to as needed. I thought he might ask me to schedule an appointment when he was being bullied, but he didn’t, and he handled it well.
“What did he say?” Ma questioned.
I shared the conversation Keelan and I had at lunch with them, and they were genuinely touched by what he’d said, but not at all surprised.
“I always say he’s mature for his age. I know part of his maturity was forced on him because of circumstances, but outside of that, he’s never behaved like the average kid,” Naomi commented.
“My prayer is that he doesn’t inherit his father’s horrible personality traits.”
“We pour too much good into him for that to happen, Ryah,” my mother assured me.
We talked a while longer before I left to pick up the food.
When I arrived at Fried Rice & More, it was crowded, and there was a line, even though the names were called at random.
I expected it, so I wasn’t too annoyed. I stood behind a tall man, whose scent made me imagine being wrapped in his arms with my head resting on his chest.
Apparently, I was standing a little too close to him, and when he reached into his back pocket to retrieve his phone, his arm brushed against me. I stepped back as he turned around, and I was shocked to see my neighbor from across the street.
“My bad, beautiful. Naryah, right?”
“Yes. No need to apologize. That was my fault. I didn’t realize I was standing so close.”
“It’s kinda crazy running into you here, considering we’re neighbors and I haven’t seen you since I moved in,” he said.
“I’ve seen you a few times, coming and going, or working in the yard. I guess you’re not looking at the right times.”
He smiled. “I guess not. Hey, can I—”
“Order for Diggs!” someone shouted up front.
Graham stopped mid-sentence, went to the front, and retrieved his food. As I watched him move to the side to check his bag, my mother’s last name was called. I approached the counter while digging the cash my mother had given me from my purse.
“I got it,” Graham said, as I prepared to pay.
“Thank you, but I got it,” I declined.
The woman behind the counter looked at me with raised brows and said, “Girl, I’m not taking your money when there’s a fine man who’s willing to pay.”
She reached past me and took Graham’s money instead. There were too many people in here to argue with her, and I didn’t want to hold up the line. I put the money back in my purse, grabbed the bag of food, and headed for the door.
Graham was right behind me, and when we got outside, he gently touched my shoulder, sending a wave of electricity through my body. I stopped and released a nervous breath before turning to face him.
“I can’t get a thank you?”
“I didn’t ask you, nor did I need you to pay for my food, but thank you.”
I started to turn around and head to my car, but for the second time, he sent shockwaves through me with his touch. I thought I’d imagined the jolt his touch sent through me the first time, but when it happened again, I knew it was real.
“What do you want?”
My question came out much harsher than I intended, and I could tell from his expression that my tone caught him by surprise.
“Are you always like this?”
I wanted to ask what he meant, but it wasn’t necessary because I knew exactly what he meant.
“I’m sorry. My family is waiting for me, and I don’t want our food to get cold.”
He nodded. “Cool. I won’t hold you, but I hope to see you again soon, and we have a much smoother encounter.”
He winked, and I smiled uncomfortably before rushing to my car. Graham watched me until I drove away from the restaurant. The last thing I needed was another fine, chocolate man fucking up my life.
“Stay away from him, Naryah. Stay far away from him.”