Teaghan
“That’s why he likes going to Luke’s,” he acknowledged.
A light bulb went off and it was now starting to make sense to him.
Poor Malone was acting out due to frustration.
I couldn’t blame Houston; death wasn’t easy to discuss with a child when you were still attempting to sort out your emotions.
But it would only get harder if he didn’t.
“Precisely. It could be that or the fact that his papa bear is lame. You don’t listen to music, you don’t dance, and you obviously can’t cook for shit.
Seems like Uncle Luke’s is the best place to be.
They probably have strippers and shit coming over and everything. You’re missing out, my love,” I joked.
“Shawn ain’t going for none of that. You two would probably hit it off.”
“Is that an invite?” I asked.
“Maybe when I’m ready. Both will ask a lot of questions that I don’t know how to answer yet. I don’t know if I’m ready for you yet.”
Grabbing his hand again I caressed it softly, “Are you ready to love or at least ready to start the healing process? Because if not, H-town, you are correct, you aren’t ready for me.
” I liked Houston, but I was not interested in playing secondhand to someone who wasn’t coming back.
That may have been insensitive, but he was bound to die a lonely man if he didn’t release the idea of him not being able to move on.
“Some days I am. At least for Malone’s sake. He needs a mother figure and I could really use the help and just to feel less like a robot. It’s hard making the time to heal when so much is required of you.”
“When’s the last time you went to see her? What’s the end goal for your mourning?” I asked. He held his head down in shame.
“Truthfully, I hadn’t been back since her funeral. Gravesites are too much of a reality check for the grieving. Every once in a while I pretend that she’s off working and would eventually return. Going to her grave is proof that she’s not.”
“Stop making excuses, it’s unbecoming. Your mourning needs to teach you something, make you better, not bitter.”
“Enough about me, what’s your story? I don’t see a ring, no one’s blowing your phone up.”
“I’m single. Like a dollar bill up a stripper’s ass,” I shrugged.
My shrug caught his attention. His eyes lowered like he was attempting to figure me out.
He probably wouldn’t any time soon. Especially with him thinking he knew me already.
His preconceived ideas of me would forever cloud the vision of who I was.
“Teaghan is multifaceted. I know how to switch from doctor to homegirl in seconds. The way I speak with eye contact carries an air of confidence. I don’t hide behind my words. I get right in front of them with an I said what I said attitude. You either respect it or reject it.”
“Why you single? Who hurt you?”
“I hurt myself. I can’t blame anything that I experienced on anyone but myself.
I see the signs early on and ignore the shit.
That’s on me,” I explained. He couldn’t believe it.
Finally, he had met someone that could admit and own up to the shit they did.
I didn’t get down in the dumps because I allowed a lot of shit.
Don’t get it wrong, most men weren’t shit but hoes and tricks, and it wasn’t an excuse.
Men would try their hand and always see what they could get away with.
It was some unwritten rule that men all around needed to forget about.
“I mean the men have some blame. As men yes we try our luck but if we have a good woman we would never try our luck and risk luck making an ass out of us. I would never if I had a woman confident, sure of themselves, successful and nurturing. Ain’t no damn way.”
“Are you just saying that to gain some brownie points?” “Do I look like a man that wastes words?”
“Good point, because at first, you seemed so cold and withdrawn. I didn’t want you falling at my feet, but I didn’t understand why you were so dry,” I responded.
“It’s no different for single men than it is for single women. I have to make sure anyone that I give my time to is worth it. I got real shit going on that some women can’t get down with. That’s not my fault unless I hide it from you.”
“I know, and I respect it. So would I ever have to blame you?” He was opening up to me and I was doing my best to take it slow so he wouldn’t clam up again. I wasn’t the only one in the conversation, and it felt good.
“I’m all man, a grown man at that. I don’t do shit without being invested. It’s the crafter in me,” he winked.
“I carry the burden from past relationships because a lot of the times I was only rebelling. But you make a good argument.”
“Women can’t continue to carry all the blame for men making fucked up decisions.
At the end of the day we can leave without all the bullshit,” he answered.
It sounded like an elevator pitch, but I felt he was just being honest. Either way, I was sold that I was possibly sharing pizza with my soul mate.
“But they don’t, it’s all a game.”
“Once I met Leslie and let her in, it never crossed my mind to play with the heart she placed it in my hands. I protected it like I protected my wallet, my head, and my life. Hurting women doesn’t benefit me or give me points.
Not points that matter, only the homies give you points, pats on the back,” he replied.
“Men are weird, if they are single and their friends aren’t it seems like they want you to be single also,” I explained.
All the guys in college had to learn that lesson quickly.
A few out the pack that I hung out with did the same thing to other guys.
It made me sick to see them give their homeboy a hard time for settling down.
But cheer them on when they fucked up or lost a good girl.
“The points your homies give you for losing a good woman by screwing one with a bigger ass never amounts to anything but bad karma later on down the line. You right men weird for that shit. But men also have to follow their own moral compass.”
“Women shouldn’t carry the blame, but we do. I think it’s smarter in some cases to carry around the responsibility.”
“How?” he asked. I was blowing his mind with my thought process. This was normally the minute a man went running for the hills. I was beyond playing dumb and allowing a man to think them hurting me gave them power. Not very woman had this much sense to acknowledge, accept and move on.
“If I carry the blame, I can move better going forward. If it’s all the man’s fault that leaves no room for me to grow and do better.
When I take some of the blame I’m forced to hold myself accountable next time.
That doesn’t exonerate the culprit, but it allows me to reflect and grab my life back.
For example, I never get another man a job that’s not my husband. ”
“I guess, but carrying the blame and learning doesn’t redeem, love does.”
“Do you want to be redeemed?” I asked.
“Are you willing to help?” he asked as we finished lunch.
Although this conversation was supposed to be about Malone he was able to converse with me without shutting down.
I sat silent. It wasn’t because I didn’t have anything to say.
I was allowing him some time to process what I said.
“Silence is a response, you know,” he joked as I tossed my napkin across the table.
“It would be my pleasure, but you have to open up that mouth and keep it real.” he was quiet, but it was amplified now. The way he processed his grief was absurd, but it was his way. I would leave it alone for now.
“I talk, I’m just careful. I have Malone to think about. I don’t want anyone judging me and thinking that I can’t raise him. It’s why I haven’t spoken with Leslie’s parents in years. It’s why my own father and mother don’t know much about how we doing now.”
“Two words don’t make a sentence, but fine, I won’t pull the words from you, but I don’t read minds,” his way was his way. Unorthodox, close to the brink of insanity. But after this conversation, I knew it was time to help him do better, so he could truly believe in love again and help Malone.