CHAPTER SEVEN
JACKIE brOWN
Dr. Nigel wasn’t at all… what she expected.
Jackie thought he’d be one of those clinical crunchy types, that wore that fake-ass Kente cloth and reeked of oregano oil and wore too many rings.
But Dr. Nigel—Najee, looked like he had stepped off the cover of Men’s Health for Black Intellectuals.
He had flawless brown skin, the color of smooth cedar.
His hair was cut in a clean, curly-top taper fade, and his goatee was neat, sharp, and perfectly groomed.
Nothing flashy, just a sharp lineup and a face carved like it stayed unbothered on purpose.
His jaw was strong, his shoulders broad, and he had that tall, lean build that moved with quiet power.
He wore a heather gray cardigan over a crisp white tee, both hugging a frame that said he either boxed, lifted, or ran miles for exercise.
His long legs filled out the tailored black slacks, that he paired with a fresh pair of low top Alexander McQueen sneakers.
And those glasses? Designer, minimalist, and sexy as hell in a nerdy way.
They sat on his face like they belonged there.
His voice was deep, smooth, and commanding in a way Jackie had to push out her mind, because she wasn’t here for all that.
Still, she clocked it. And the way he said, I don’t think he’s broken, had her stomach doing this weird little shift she didn’t trust. Jackie crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in the chair.
“You real polished, huh?” He smiled. “Only on Tuesdays and when my Auntie Malika’s watching.
” Jackie fought a smirk. This man had jokes, and he was fine.
Jackie glanced around his office again. The space was inviting and warm.
The art was intentional, Black boys smiling, playing chess, reading books.
No forced “grit” aesthetics. No inspirational posters about self-control or making better choices.
Black boy Joy was on full display, and that felt refreshing.
Still, she didn’t trust it—or him. “Look,” she said, “I know y’all probably got Max filed under ‘angry already based on whatever information the school provided.” Najee shook his head.
“That’s not how I file kids.” Jackie gave him a long look.
“With all due respect… you a Black man in a system run by white folks. I’m sure you learned early how to play both sides.
” That made him pause. Just for a second.
But she caught it, that flicker behind the lenses.
A quiet acknowledgment that she wasn’t wrong.
“I don’t want them labeling him,” she added, her voice softening.
“He’s seven years old, and he’s not perfect.
But he’s, my baby. He just got a lot on him right now.
” Najee nodded slowly. “Tell me what’s been going on at home.
” Jackie inhaled through her nose. Here came the part she hated.
Saying it out loud. Naming things, she’d been trying to push down.
“He misses his brother,” she said. “Marcus Junior. My oldest. He’s sixteen.
Lives with his dad now… somewhere out of state.
Long story.” Najee didn’t interrupt. He just listened.
“We haven’t seen him in person in over two years,” Jackie continued, her voice thinning.
“And Max… he asks about him almost every day. Sometimes I think he acts out just to be sent home early, just to see if maybe his brother will be there.” She blinked fast. “I am doing the best I can. But some days…” Her throat tightened.
“Some days I feel like I’m failing them both.
” Najee nodded again, softer this time. “You’re not.
” Jackie swallowed hard, hating how much that meant to hear.
She cleared her throat. “Anyway. That’s the gist.” Najee leaned forward slightly.
“Would you be open to working with me? Just a few one-on-one sessions with Max to start. Observations. Nothing formal yet. And I can offer parent support too.” Jackie narrowed her eyes.
“Like… therapy, therapy?”
“No, like help, with resource, perspective and allowing you space to breathe, while we all figure this out together.” Jackie stared at him but didn’t speak.
She was processing his words. Then finally, she let out a deep breath and spoke.
“I’ll think about it.” Najee smiled again.
“That’s all I ask.” But in that moment, she already knew.
She was going to say yes. Even if she didn’t want to admit it aloud.
She just wasn’t sure whether it was for Max… or for her.