3. Reighvyn
“Hey, baby boy. It’s so good to see you.” Mama Alma Reed, my foster mother, greeted me as I stepped into Wryn’s house.
“Hey, Mama. Wryn didn’t tell me y’all would be here,” I greeted, squeezing her tightly before I kissed her cheek.
She returned the kiss, patted my cheeks, and then replied, “We wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Definitely surprised. Wassup, ole man?” I greeted Papa Larry Reed.
“This old man can still whup yo’ a—”
“Larry!” Mama Alma scolded him with her tone and stern gaze.
He shook a finger at me. “Y’all kids still getting me in trouble.”
Wryn and I laughed because that was true. When we grew up in their home, we kept Papa Larry in trouble. Whatever we wanted to do, he was game. He let us break all the rules, and whenever we were about to get in trouble, he stepped in and intervened, whether he had something to do with it or not.
It wasn’t difficult, though, because Mama Alma was a loving, nurturing woman with a gentle soul and a quiet spirit.
I loved her as if she were my own mama, although it had taken time for the other two to get there.
We had been in and out of their home on several occasions from elementary through high school.
We had been in two other foster homes, too, and while they weren’t horrible, they weren’t like the Reeds.
The Reeds had genuinely loved us as their own, taking us shopping, spending far more than I knew the state allotment afforded them to, taking us on vacations, and Mama Alma cried every time we returned home to our mama.
Two other foster families gave me a clean, safe place to stay, fed me well, and kept me clean, but there was no love or affection. I was separated from my siblings when I was with those families, and I missed them like hell.
Then there was the other family we all were sent to.
I was happy to be with my sister and brother, but we caught hell.
We were mistreated, talked down on, humiliated, and often sent to bed or school without food.
We were the only ones assigned chores and never received any encouragement or assistance.
“Where’s the birthday girl?” I asked.
“Here I am.” My sister, wearing a crown on her head, danced into the living room where we were all gathered. I pulled her into my arms and gave her a big kiss on the cheek before I handed her the wrapped gifts I had been holding.
“For me?” she asked, blushing and giggling.
“Yes, it’s for you. Don’t even front.”
I spoiled my big sister, buying her Ferragamo, Saint Laurent, and Birkin bags along with jewelry, perfume, and shoes.
We all stood around as she opened her gifts from all of us, and she oohed and ahhed equally over every gift, no matter the price range.
I had gifted her a diamond tennis bracelet, a bottle of Angel’s Share, and a new Balenciaga bag.
“Here, Mama Alma. Smell this. It’s got tonka bean, cognac, and oak notes in it,” Paloma stated.
“Baby, that’s too masculine for me.”
“Not when it’s paired with vanilla and cinnamon. It’s a unisex perfume, Mama Alma,” Paloma countered.
“Chiillle.” Mama Alma sighed, but she extended her wrist so that Paloma could spritz her. When she was finished, we all headed into the dining room to eat, chat, and sing happy birthday to Paloma.
“Mama’s getting out of the hospital,” Paloma announced at the end of dinner as we all stood from the table to head back to the living room.
“How you feel about that, Bug?” Mama Alma asked, calling me by my childhood nickname.
I shrugged. “Don’t feel no way about it.”
“It’s not the right time with all the other stuff you got going on,” Wryn remarked, rubbing his hand over his head.
“I mean, it is what it is. You get used to things always happening.” I shrugged and turned my lips down. “But it’s about Lo tonight. I’m not trying to bring the mood down with heavy shit.”
Paloma smiled weakly at me and wrapped her arms around me. “Bug, you’re our baby. It’s always about you, even on my birthday. You’ve got a big ole beautiful heart, and we just want to make sure that it stays intact. There’s only so much a person can take.”
“She’s right, Bug. We know you try to stay strong, but that’s what you’ve got family for. You lean on us when you’re feeling weak, and we will keep you lifted up. We keep you prayed up. It’s okay to crawl up in His arms and let Him give you the rest you need,” Mama Alma declared.
“I do, Mama Alma. I pray a lot.”
“Do you wait on Him, Son?” she asked.
I chuckled, and I shook my head. “It’s not always room to wait in the world that I’m in. Sometimes, you gotta keep moving and keep your head up. If you don’t, you’ll get kicked down and never get back up.”
“If you don’t take time and wait, He’ll sit you down so that you’re forced to wait. Maybe that’s what he’s doing now,” Mama Alma declared.
Shrugging, I replied, “I don’t know. There’s a lot going on. I’ve got my attorneys and my entire team on it. I’m sure they’ll uncover what’s going on. I think it’s something with the manufacturer, but we’ll get to the bottom of it sooner or later. They’ll reinstate me in no time.”
“What’re you gonna do if they don’t reinstate you, Son?” Papa Larry asked.
“They will. I have to believe that because I’m fighting it as best I can. I’m tired though, Papa, and I need some time to regroup.”
“With the way the media pops up everywhere you go, you need more than time to regroup. You need an escape,” Paloma declared.
“She’s right about that, Bug,” Wryn commented. “You might need to find someplace else to crash. They’ve found your condo here in the city, your home in the burbs, and your little vacation spot in Miami. You need something away from all this.”
“You need to go to the house on Sorrel Island,” Papa Larry suggested.
“That’s a great idea.” Mama Alma spoke up.
My siblings nodded and muttered some variation of “Mm-hmm.”
“How long has it been since you all went there last?” Paloma asked our foster parents.
“Last year for Memorial Day,” Papa Larry answered.
“I ain’t been there since just after college,” Wryn proclaimed.
“We tell you kids y’all can go out whenever you want to. It’s not the same for us anymore without y’all running around. I mean, don’t get me wrong; we still have fun, but we miss you guys more when we’re there,” Papa Larry declared.
We all lit up with the happy memories and shared them for a while as we sat around the living room talking.
“Well, guys, I appreciate you all spending my birthday with me, but I still have a few hours left in the night, and my boo has something planned for me,” Paloma announced, jumping up from Wryn’s couch.
Wryn shook his head. “I hope it ain’t that—”
“Stop, Wryn, before you even say it. I haven’t seen that man in five months. No, I’m seeing someone new.”
“Lo, take your time, baby. I don’t want to see you hurt,” Mama Alma declared.
It was no secret that Paloma fell in love quickly and got hurt just as easily. We all were, in some form, looking for someone to love us unconditionally the way our mother should have. When our partner failed to live up to our expectations, we didn’t take it so well.
Paloma was in and out of relationships, Wryn had just ended his third marriage at thirty-eight, and there was me, who just remained in a stagnant, loveless relationship. I was holding on for the sake of saying that I had someone to love, someone who didn’t love me in return.
“I’ll be fine, Mama. I promise.”
“You make sure, Reigh.”
We all hugged her. “I might as well get out of here too. I’m tired, and I haven’t had much sleep lately.”
“Son, I want you to consider what I said. You really should go out to the house. No pressure but think about it. If you want to, I can have your mama call the service and have someone go out there clean it up and restock the refrigerator and cabinet,” Papa Larry suggested.
I bobbed my head and replied, “Yeah. I might just do that.”
When he removed a key from his keyring and handed it to me, I almost lost my shit. Saying I would do it and having the key in my hand to empower me to do it was another thing. That place held so much happiness for me. The second time we went to the Reeds’ home, they took us on vacation there.
It was right after our apartment had caught on fire, and I had been burned severely and had spent a little over a week in the hospital.
That vacation had cheered my heart up and gave me hope again.
Every time we went there afterward, it was based on some special situation, and they used that home to heal our hearts.
Most times, the Flowers came with us. Dove and I had been inseparable in those years. My heart tugged, wondering where she was and what she was up to. I had seen some stuff about her on social media, but when I reached out, she didn’t answer.
I felt like that little boy all over again who broke down and cried whenever his mama didn’t return home. Papa Larry pulled me close to him, and the rest of them folded in around me and formed a group hug.
“Take some time out, Son. You deserve it,” Papa Larry declared.
I was too emotional to speak. The memories and everything I had going on with the EFC, Extreme Fight Club, on my ass about doping allegations, Daniella breaking up with me, spending time with my core family, and learning my mother was getting out of the hospital again washed over me and made me emotional. All I could do was nod.
My heart was overwhelmed, and I knew a nigga like me needed to do some healing.
I prided myself on being strong physically, mentally, and spiritually.
The world knew me as a gruff, emotionless nigga who didn’t give a shit about anything, a nigga whose morals were questioned for the way I handled the world.
These people knew the real me. They were the only ones who saw my heart.
They were the ones who knew me like no other, except for a small handful of people I had grown up with throughout the years.
It had been years since I had seen any of them, especially her.
The house would always bring back memories of Dove Reign.
Those were memories that were always welcome, because they reminded me of home.
She had been my home and my peace in those early years.
I accepted the key, palmed it, and tucked it away in my back pocket before I pulled out of the hug, wiped my cheeks, and held my head up.
“Thanks, y’all. I’ma head out now. I’ve got some packing to do.”