Chapter 33 #2
“But maybe giving me the tools I needed would’ve helped me cope better now.”
“I’m sorry for all that you’ve been through.
Please know that everything I have done has been out of love.
That doesn’t mean it’s all been done perfectly.
I mean, I’m a principal.” She released a mirthless laugh.
“I have so many years of experience and education, yet I think that because you’re my daughter, I was more emotionally involved and didn’t always think clearly. ”
Kenya observed her mom, saw the obvious love in her eyes and the struggle there too. She turned her palms up and squeezed her mother’s hands.
“Mom, why were you so afraid?”
She moved to sit beside her. “Kenya, you’ve always been so insightful, and even your words were always direct and to the point. You’ve had no problem bringing your whole self to the table.”
Her mom sighed, and the depth Kenya felt in that movement made her settle closer to her, to brace her somehow.
“I suppose, if I could look at myself through the eyes of a therapist or counselor or pastor, I would say that perhaps I have been running from the expectations that were not placed on me. I don’t even know how to say this, but maybe if I just say it, it will make sense.
Your sisters don’t even know this. Your daddy does, but it was never an issue, so I never mentioned it. ”
She grabbed Kenya’s hand again, held tight.
“Your grandparents, my parents, died when y’all were young, so there was no point in talking about it further.
And I tried to run as far as I could into the life I wanted to build.
” Her mom chuckled. “Girl, you thought you could sprint and leap over all those hurdles in your path? Baby, you had nothing on me. I wanted to run so far from the fact that my birth parents—my biological ones—rejected me.”
Kenya gasped, her world tilting again. “Mama? Are you saying that Grandpa and Grandma . . .”
Her mother nodded. “Yes, they were not my birth parents, and not even my second parents, if you count foster care. I apparently was too much to deal with. You see, I too have dyslexia. I also had so many other issues when I was younger from all the things I was coming off of that were introduced into my system before I was born. It wasn’t until I was about seven years old that your grandparents saw me and, according to them, heard the word of the Lord over me.
They took me to a specialist, and I had to do crawl therapy and these pencil push-up exercises to rewire my brain.
My peers were practicing ballet or, like you, running on the track and basketball court.
My workouts were for my brain, to find easier pathways to read.
My parents stood right by my side, making sure I had what I needed, but I felt like I missed so much life.
I didn’t fight it because it was helping, and I wanted to prove that my parents didn’t make a mistake when they chose to adopt me. ”
She released a breath. “I thought surely, surely, with all that I did, I wouldn’t have a child with the same issues.
I guess I was in my own kind of denial. I didn’t want you to have that word hanging over you.
I wanted you to live your life more freely and work it out yourself instead of having coping mechanisms piled on you like I did. ”
Kenya shook her head. “But why would you think that? Why wouldn’t you think I needed extra help?”
Her mother laid her hands on Kenya’s shoulders.
“Because you are the smartest, most creative, innovative, passionate woman I know. I didn’t want anything to hinder the creativity I saw in you, so I helped in my roundabout ways.
But mostly I just wanted you to run without any hindrance.
Looking back, yes, I probably should have done more.
I’m so sorry if in my best intentions, I made things harder. ”
Kenya sat in silence, processing the revelation about her mom’s history and struggles.
Seeing why her mother did what she did out of the overflow of how she grew up.
Maybe Mama’s path wasn’t as linear as she would have wanted, and even though she assumed she had, her mother never wanted to box her in.
Her mom chuckled, a faraway look in her misting eyes.
“I remember a little girl who wanted this certain LEGO set. A set her mother didn’t really want to buy because it looked too advanced.
But that little girl worked on that thing all afternoon and evening, barely ate dinner at all to finish it.
Losing pieces, messing up, crying a little, starting sections over. But she finished it.”
Mama turned to her, the shimmer of tears sparkling in her eyes.
Kenya sniffed at the affection in that gaze.
“I’ll never forget the look on your face when you showed me what you put together.
Not a mirror image or a half-complete product like you’d done so many times before.
You built the exact replica of the image on the box. And your smile almost broke me.”
It seemed like the memory was breaking her now. Just as the tears Kenya tried to hold back pooled and poured over her curly bottom lashes, watery makeup streaking down her cheek.
“Here I was trying to buffer you from failure, and yet, if I had done that, I would have robbed you of that victory. Would have robbed myself of the joy of seeing your victory too. That day I was determined to let you try whatever you set your mind to. Over time, I don’t know what changed.
Why I became so scared, especially as you got older and didn’t want to finish college, and I frowned on your risk and all the chances you took.
” She spread her left arm around Kenya’s shoulder, squeezed tight.
“How could I ever think to clip the wings of someone meant to soar?”
KENYA WAITED in her mom’s office until she was packed up for the day.
Her phone rang as her mom finished a conversation with the receptionist. The number was unfamiliar, but she pressed the green button before she changed her mind.
If it was spam, she would end it quickly and help grab her mom’s things.
“Hello?”
“Hello, is this Kenya Stewart?” The voice was unfamiliar, deep with a strong Southern accent. He sounded too professional to be a junk call.
“May I ask who is speaking?”
“This is Robert Bluestone of Blue Horizon. How are you today?”
Kenya gasped and dropped into the desk chair. Her mother walked in at the same moment, her smile fading into a look of concern.
Are you okay? she mouthed.
Kenya didn’t know. She ignored her mother’s question. “Um, hi?”
Mr. Bluestone chuckled. “Hi, how are you today?”
Kenya pressed a hand to her forehead. “I’m good. How can I help you?”
“Well, I just got off the phone with someone who shared some vital information with me about opportunities coming Huntsville’s way.”
“Oh, is that so?” Kenya motioned to her mother to sit in one of the office chairs. Her laser focus was almost making Kenya sweat as much as Robert Bluestone was.
“I’m told there is a company looking to host a conference here that seems to be right up our alley. And that you are the one spearheading it.”
Where had he gotten this information? “Not exactly, Mr. Bluestone. It is an agency effort. And we may have lost our opportunity because of my negligence.”
She didn’t need to go into everything, but apparently he did.
“I remember you from the wedding, by the way.”
Kenya couldn’t sink farther into her chair.
But then he laughed. Laughed! “Now don’t go running from this call yet. Everything was explained to me. You know, I actually have a son who has the gift of dyslexia too.” Kenya gasped again, but this time from wonder. The same words Althea had said.
Mr. Bluestone’s voice softened. “He is as smart as a whip but just has trouble putting his words together when he’s called upon. I say that you should earn points for even being brave enough to try.”
“Why are you crying? Who is on the phone, Kenya?” Her mother stood up, her words coming out in a hiss. Her eyes blazed, and she looked ready to fight whoever was making tears stream down her baby’s face.
“Thank you for sharing that, Mr. Bluestone.” She swiped at her eyes. “Are you telling me if we were to hold the convention the Bellon Group wants to facilitate, you would like to be a part of it?”
“I’ll do you one better. If they end up not working out, my company will host it ourselves. How ’bout that?”
After several more words and promises to follow up, Kenya hung up and pressed the phone to her chest.
“Oh no,” she moaned, closing her eyes.
Her mother rushed over. “Who was it? What happened?”
Kenya laughed. “This means I actually didn’t fail. Somehow, in spite of my flawed designs, I’ve done something right.” Her laughter died down as she considered Althea’s offer.
“And now I don’t know what to do.”