13 | Samaj
Although I didn’t really want any company and had successfully avoided the entire friend group all week, I needed Kadeem’s assistance with packing and getting the last of my things I didn’t plan to take with me moved into a storage unit.
I had been donating my bigger furniture pieces and only had my couch and coffee table left which a neighbor was going to pick up later tonight.
“Yo! Merry Christmas!” He said soon as I opened the door.
“Kadeem get out my face. I’m relocating, not going off to war.” We both shared a laugh.
“Nah, but for real, I’ma miss having you around. We been locked in for the last four years.” He admitted.
“Yeah, it’s going to be different, but we still locked in, bro. No distance is going to change that.”
He nodded his head. “My boy’s growing up. Leaving the nest. First, he abandons us for Union Heights next thing you know he gon’ be wearing flannel and drinking pumpkin spice lattes.”
“Shut up,” I muttered, but I was grateful whenever he cracked a joke, especially now with how bad my emotions have been. Talking to my parents to confront them about what Simone revealed only brought me down even more. It’s what led me to switching my flight.
Pulling up to my parents’ house felt heavier than I expected.
The huge ‘For Sale’ sign with Harmony’s picture on our front lawn had been updated to ‘Sold.’ Walking in to see most of the furniture gone and boxes stacked in the corner was a lot to take in.
It was official, our home was no longer going to be ours in a matter of a few more weeks.
My mom was in the kitchen when I walked in. My dad was at the table, paperwork spread out in front of him. They both looked up surprised to see me. I didn’t give them a heads up, afraid they would have time to prepare a lie.
“Samaj,” my mom said softly, “we didn’t expect you to stop by. How are you? Is everything OK?”
I didn’t sit. Didn’t take my jacket off. I went straight for it.
“Is Dad my biological father?”
The words hung in the air, sharp and unforgiving.
My mom’s face was drained of color. She opened her mouth, then closed it. I looked at my dad. Looked back at me.
“Baby—” she started.
“No,” I snapped. “Don’t ‘baby’ me. Just answer the question.”
My dad stood up slowly. “Maj, let’s take a breath. Where is this even coming from?”
“Does it matter? Are you going to answer the question or not?” My mom’s eyes filled with tears instantly.
“It’s not that simple.” That did it. I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “It never is when adults don’t want to tell the truth.”
“Hey,” my dad said, stepping closer, his voice calm but firm, “No one is trying to lie to you.”
“But she is,” I said, turning to him. “And so are you if you think staying quiet makes this better. Withholding the truth is the same as lying.”
My mom started crying then. Full-on tears. The kind that used to make me fold instantly, used to make me soften and swallow my questions. Not this time.
“I don’t want you to cry,” I said, my voice breaking despite myself. “But I also don’t deserve to be left in the dark. I’m not a little kid anymore. You don’t need to protect me from the truth.”
She covered her mouth, shaking her head.
“It’s a lot. I don’t even know where to begin. I – I can’t do this right now.”
“This is crazy.” I said getting frustrated.
My dad stepped between us, palms out. “Alright. Enough. This isn’t helping.”
“It’s too late for that,” I said. “Whatever this is—whatever y’all were trying to preserve—it’s already broken. I just need honesty now. That’s it.”
Silence filled the room. My mom couldn’t look at me. I felt something settle in my chest then. Not peace. Just clarity.
“I love you,” I said quietly, “But I don’t deserve this.” I left the kitchen and headed up the stairs.
Shiloh’s room was almost empty. Furniture was gone and artwork taken down.
Just bare walls and memories echoing off them.
I stepped into his walk-in closet where a few boxes were labeled “Legos.” His old Legos, the ones he swore he’d pass down to his kids one day.
I grabbed the smallest of the three boxes along with his hoodie, the gray one he “borrowed” one day and never gave back.
I stood there for a moment lost in my thoughts trying to fight back my tears when I felt someone behind me.
“I’m sorry and you’re right you don’t deserve this.
” My father said, “Your mom and I made a decision to not get a DNA test so honestly, we don’t know but to me it doesn’t matter.
It will never matter because you’re mine.
I love you, we both do. Your mom is just – she’s still battling so much.
Things that she’s tried to outrun but never faced and truly healed from.
I take a little responsibility for that because I knew how broken she was, but I thought I could save her.
Thought I could protect her. I thought love was enough. ”
I finally turned to look at him and the grief and sadness in his eyes brought me chills. Throughout my childhood I barely saw my dad and mom fall out but there were definitely signs. Times when she wasn’t acting like herself, and my dad would tell us that she was just tired or not feeling well.
He was always trying to protect her and protect us from whatever she was really facing.
I can only imagine how these past few months have been for them both since Shiloh passed.
I haven’t been home since going off to college, so I haven’t had to really see my mom’s downfall the way my dad has. This was all just too much.
“What if I said I wanted to get a DNA test done?”
He looked like I had just ripped his heart out and stomped on it.
“I would respect your decision.”
I nodded my head and walked past him. Once I reached the kitchen, I removed the house key from the key ring and placed it on the counter. I walked out of the house without looking back ready to move forward, even if it meant doing it without answers.
I slid the last box out of my trunk and set it down next to the others, stretching my back as Kadeem leaned against the wall, scrolling through his phone like he wasn’t watching me move my whole life into a ten-by-ten metal cage.
“Crazy how much junk a man can accumulate,” he said.
“You swear you don’t got nothing till it’s time to move.”
I smirked. “Says the man who if I’m not mistaken used to live out of a duffel bag when we were roommates.”
“I’m a minimalist,” he corrected. “It’s a lifestyle.”
“Yeah alright.”
We went back and forth, stacking boxes, locking things away piece by piece.
Old notebooks and projects from college.
Framed photos capturing years of memories.
A few pairs of sneakers I hadn’t worn in forever, but couldn’t part ways with.
It felt like a closing even though my mind was already a thousand miles west.
Back at my place, the apartment looked bare. Kadeem dropped onto the couch and nodded toward the coffee table. “So… what’s that?”
I followed his gaze. The small Christmas gift sat right in the center, untouched. I’d bought it for Simone before everything went left.
My jaw tightened. “It’s nothing.”
He picked it up. “It says to Simone. From Samaj.”
“Glad you can read.” I sighed, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over my chest. “It’s a Christmas gift for Simone. Or it was.”
Kadeem leaned forward.
“So, y’all really done-done?”
I nodded slowly. “Yeah. We’re done.”
“That was quick.”
“Aye, watch it.”
“My bad.” He set the gift back down on the table. The joking tone now gone. “But you still got her gift sittin’ out like it’s waiting on her to walk through the door.”
“I tried giving it to her, but she wouldn’t take it. I get it though, she’s mad. She thinks me breaking up with her means I don’t care, when the reality is I probably care too much.” My voice dropped. “But my heart… It's on ice at the moment. I’m all messed up right now.”
“So, what really went down that night though? You never told me what the fall out was.”
I explained the conversation Simone and I had as well as the one between my parents and me.
“Damn. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It is what it is.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“What’s up?”
“Growing up did it ever cross your mind that he wasn’t your biological dad?”
“Nope. Not at all. I always said that Shiloh was his favorite, but that’s only because Shiloh was a little more sensitive and looked for my dad’s approval more than me.
My dad knew I was more headstrong and independent so he would give Shiloh a little more attention at times, but I don’t really believe he treated or loved us differently. ”
“He was your dad in every way that counts. No DNA test can take away what he was to you. From the sound of it, it seems like he’s trying to protect your mom and in the midst of that he hurt you.
Do I think they should’ve told you the possibility a lot sooner, yeah, but some things we withhold from people aren’t because we don’t think they deserve the truth, it’s because we want to hold off on the pain we know the truth will inevitably cause them. ”
“If you can withhold the truth from me, you’re taking away my ability to choose when and how I heal from the pain. I don’t see how you can justify that.”
He watched me for a second, then said, “It’s easy to say that until you’re in their shoes. You’ve probably never had to withhold something from someone you really cared about or loved before.”
“And you have?”
Kadeem let out an exasperated sigh before offering his response. “Yeah, I have.”
We both sat in silence not sure where to direct the conversation.
“I just need to get up out of here. I’m tired of dealing with all of this. I need some peace of mind.”
“You sure you leaving right now is you seeking peace and not you running?”
“What makes you think I’m running?” I asked defensively. It was now the second time someone had mentioned it.
Kadeem didn’t flinch. “Man, chill out. I ain’t say you were running. I was just asking you a question. Big difference.” Silence stretched between us again.
“I just want to focus on my career,” I finally said. “Get my head right. No relationships. No family drama.”
“I hear you bro,” he replied. “As long as you’re being honest with yourself. Union Heights ain’t a reset button if you carry the same baggage with you.”
I nodded, jaw tight again. “That’s why I’m doing this. I’m going out there with a clear conscience. Or at least I’m trying to.”
He leaned back. “Good. Cause you owe that to yourself.”
“Thanks man. Not just for today, helping with the move, thanks for being in my corner, thanks for giving me the advice that I may not want but need and thanks for being there when we laid Shiloh to rest.”
“Don’t sweat it. We ride together; we die together. Bad boys for life!” He said, quoting the famous line from the Bad Boys movie franchise.
“You know what, never mind I take it back. You need to stop watching so much TV.”
He shrugged his shoulders before getting up and walking to my kitchen to raid my pantry.
“Where’s all the oatmeal cookies?”
“I know you’re not asking me about the cookies you finished eating last time you were here.”
“I’ma miss you, but I might miss those cookies a little more.”
“Yeah, I bet,” Shaking my head before switching the subject. “So, what about you? What’s next for Kadeem the Menace?”
He laughed. “First of all, don’t do that.”
“Second of all?” I pressed.
His smile faded just a little. “Family business.”
I waited.
“I’ll be working more directly with my people now,” he continued. “Won’t be around like I used to. Not physically, anyway.”
I studied him. “You good with that?”
He shrugged. “It is what it is. Loyalty before comfort, right?”
“Still,” I said, “don’t disappear on us.”
He smirked. “Please. I might not be in the city, but I’ll be watching everything. Keeping tabs. Making sure everyone’s good.”
“Everybody or Emaree?”
He didn’t even try to hide his smile.
“You know I gotta protect the Queen.”
He pulled out his car keys and headed for the door when he paused, “Union Heights’s gonna change you, bro. Just make sure it doesn’t harden you. Change for the better.”
“I got you.” I looked at the gift on the table one last time. “Do me a favor and give it to her for me.”
Some things you hold onto because you’re not ready to let go. Other things… you let go because holding on hurts too much.