by Nicole Falls
“Absolutely not. You’re Mr. Karim. That’s it; that’s all.”
“I wasn’t put out by it or anything…”
“Peej, come here baby,” Celena called out.
Oh shit, here we go.
“Stay where you’re at, PJ,” I called out as he rose from the chair.
He looked back at Celena who was now looking at me with barely concealed annoyance. I stood up, grabbed her hand and led her further down the hall until I found an empty room. I ushered Celena in before me, turning to close the door behind us. As I turned around to face her, I could tell she was set to let me have it, so I preempted whatever rant was brewing.
“Before you start—like I said I wasn’t put out by the kid calling me uncle, it just caught me off guard. So it didn’t need to be addressed. You know he’s sensitive and would have lost his shit if you reprimanded him in front of me, so just relax. It wasn’t a big deal.”
“I didn’t want you to think we were in the habit of insisting PJ call any old dude who’s been around more than a couple weeks ‘Uncle’. That’s not how we roll,” Celena huffed as she paced back and forth in front of me.
“Babe, you think I don’t know that? Even though your sister did agree to let me take PJ out without y’all, I damn near had to sign over a vial of blood and naming rights of our firstborn to pull it off,” I said, stopping her stride and pulling her against me, “It takes a helluva lot to get close to the Payne sisters and even more for them to let you get close to their Baby Boy.”
Celena rolled her eyes and laughed.
“I just…” she started.
“Save it,” I said, “We’re good. Now where are them babies? Y’all been here for how many hours and neither one has made their appearance yet?”
Celena and her friends were convinced that Cadence was carrying more than one baby because of the size of her belly. For weeks I’d had to hear about the twins and witness Cadence flipping shit every time they teased her. Guess all of their teasing had rubbed off on me as I referred to the kid as multiple now, too.
“Last update we got she was at eight centimeters, so the baby should be making an appearance very soon. I still can’t believe she put us out though,” Celena said, laughing.
“Wait…what? I thought that there was a limit on the number of people in the room and that’s why you and Patricia were waiting out here.”
“Nope, we got put out by Cade. Pat had to go because she was a bigger pain in her ass than the contractions and I had to go because every time she had a contraction I was wincing in pain as if it was me who was in labor. In my defense, it’s not like I’ve ever witnessed a woman in labor and she looked like she was on the verge of death a few times there.”
I laughed and asked, “You weren’t in the delivery room with your sister for PJ’s birth?”
“Oh that’s cute,” Celena replied, giggling.
“What?”
“You’ve seen her in action. Do you think Pat lets anything happen by chance? She had a scheduled cesarean, told me not to take off work, and had a nurse calling me hourly with updates.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah…that’s Patty for you, though. Come on; let’s get back out there. Hopefully Dev or Geoff has been back out with another update.”
We walked back into the waiting area where Patricia and PJ had been sitting, only to find it empty. As we were walking back into the area, so was Devorah.
“You’ll never believe it…we were right, Cel. We were fucking right,” Devorah whisper-yelled, “There’s two babies!”
“You’re lying!” Celena responded.
“Come on,” Devorah said, pulling Celena by the arm toward the elevator.
We took the elevator up a few floors to the maternity ward, where we were met with a shell shocked Geoff. Celena took one look at his face and commenced to freak out with Devorah.
“How were there…?”
“I know.”
“But wouldn’t the doctor…”
“I know.”
“We didn’t prep for…”
“I KNOW!”
The ladies rushed off, presumably to Cadence’s room so that Celena could meet the babies.
I walked over to where Geoff had sunk into a chair, hands in head, to give him the cigars I’d gotten for us to smoke.
“Congratulations, man. Looks like you’re gonna need both of these,” I said, handing them over and clapping him on the shoulder.
I wasn’t sure if it was the shock or what, but he hadn’t spoken a word since we arrived on the ward; just intermittent mumbles that sounded like “two babies?” in varying degrees of alarm.
“We didn’t prepare for two babies,” Geoff said at an intelligible level, “There’s only one crib. Hell one of everything…”
“Double the blessing?” I said, affably, trying to wrack my brain for something to say that didn’t sound completely foolish.
Honestly I was at a loss for words I couldn’t imagine preparing your life for one kid and—surprise, two pop out. To my surprise, the trite ass phrase actually seemed to work. Geoff’s grimace relaxed and he sat back in his chair, a smile creeping over his features.
“Two beautiful, blessed baby girls. You wanna see them?” he asked, fishing his phone out of his pocket and unlocking it.
He handed the phone to me, gallery app open. In the mere minutes that the girls had been on earth their proud papa had taken a least hundred photos in varying stages of their arrival. I discreetly scrolled past the pictures of Cadence’s…pocketbook as my mother called it, landing on a shot of Geoff, Cadence and the babies that looked too damn good to be taken on an iPhone. She had a twin nestled in each arm, as she gazed down upon them lovingly. Geoff was right by her side, pressing a kiss to her forehead and caressing the cradle of her arms in which the girls were ensconced. The entire photo looked like a Rockwell moment.
“Y’all are a beautiful family, man. And you need to hire whichever nurse took this photo with a damn phone! Sheesh,” I laughed.
Geoff chuckled, “Nah, Cady’s mom is a photographer. She beamed the shots she took to me via Bluetooth from her camera.”
“Two girls, huh? Man…you better get the shotgun ready,” I joked.
“Man, who you tellin’? I was just tryna get used to the idea of keeping these knuckleheads away from one babygirl.”
“Well would you look here, mama, he does remember he has a family?” my mother yelled dramatically as I entered her house through the kitchen.
She and my grandmother sat at the table, enjoying a couple mugs of tea and scones. Celena wanted to stay at the hospital with Devorah, Cadence and the babies, so I decided to stop off at my mom’s since I missed the last couple Sundays of church with them. Celena and I had come to dinner over here a few times, but far less frequently than I used to stop by pre-relationship. I ignored my mother’s dramatics and went over to greet my grandmother with a kiss to the cheek.
“Boy walk in here and act like I don’t even exist,” my mother huffed, crossing her arms, trying to bite back a smile.
“Hush up, lady,” I said, walking over and stooping down to embrace and kiss her as well.
“I’m glad you stopped by today, son. There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about,” my mother started, but abruptly pivoted the conversation, “Mama, you wanna watch some television while Reem and I talk?”
“Nope, gonna watch this here show,” my grandmother quipped.
“What show is that, Granny?” I asked, knowing full well my mother was likely about to ask a ridiculous favor.
Granny, in moments of lucidity, delighted in my mother’s hazing of me. Most grandmothers had their grandchildren’s back, but not mine. She’d talk my mother into these grand home renovation schemes, which usually involved an insane amount of my time to undertake. Because why pay a professional to do what Reem can find a YouTube tutorial to do was the Holt women motto.
“Mama, please,” my mother began.
“Fine,
fine. I’ll let you talk to the boy alone. But I’m telling you, nothing good will come of this,” she said, shuffling out of the kitchen toward the sitting room where the newly mounted—by me—sixty inch, four k, ultra thin television awaited her.
Whatever my granny was talking about had to be more than a random home improvement project. Her tone was foreboding and I didn’t like the sound of it one bit. I had an inkling that my mother was going to bring up that useless nigga who contributed to half of my DNA and I wasn’t in the mood, honestly. I never told her how he popped up on me at the garage. I figured since he said it was her idea, they were talking enough for him to tell her the outcome. I was fine with pretending that he had died in some heroic, tragic way en route to my birth; thus preventing him from being in my life when I was a kid. It was better than the too little, too late reality that I was facing now. I felt my brow furrowing at the thought of discussing ol boy with my mother and it must have shown on my face.
“You don’t even know what I’m gonna say while you’re all frowned up like you smell something,” my mother began, “You know I really miss your grandfather around here some days. He was the only one of y’all that had some sense, I swear.”
“I miss, granddad too, ma, but I know a stall tactic when I see it. What’s going on?”
“I want to ask you a question and I want you to answer me honestly okay, Reem? Even if it hurts your old mama’s feelings.”
I nodded my assent, wondering what she was going to ask me.
“Have I failed you? As a parent? Were you lacking growing up?”
“Ma, where is this coming from?”
“Don’t answer my question with a question, boy. It’s a yes or no question. Do you feel like I failed you in any way?”
I looked at my mother as she awaited my response. Her normally cheerful, relaxed expression wrought with tension. She was tightly wound as if she expected my answer to be in the affirmative.
“Absolutely not,” I responded and meant it.
“Now, I told you to be honest. You don’t have to spare my feelings. Speak your truth,” she pressed.
“No. Non. Nein. Nah. Naw. No in Spanish,” I replied, with a chuckle.
“Don’t get cute.”
“Ma, I promise. You never failed me. You…and granny and granddad were always there for me. I never wanted for anything—mentally, physically, spiritually or monetarily. You guys worked as a unit to make sure that I was never lacking. And I appreciate the hell out of you for it. But where is this coming from, ma? What’s going on?”
She dropped her gaze to some speck of nothing on the table. She worried a worn groove that had been in its surface since I could remember. She seemed to be gathering her thoughts as she opened and closed her mouth a few times before sighing loudly. My mother was prone to dramatics, so this sort of behavior wasn’t super unusual, but something about the tension in her body today made me think it was deeper than her normal drama queen antics.
“You ever wonder why I never gave you his name?”
“Whose name?”
“Don’t play dumb, boy. You know who I am talking about. Your father. You ever wonder why you were a Holt and not a Parker?”
I shrugged, “Not really.”
“It was my decision. Robert…he was…” she stopped, heaving a breath, “Robert wasn’t thrilled that I got pregnant, but he wasn’t unhappy either. I was though. I was furious. The man had been telling me for months that his marriage was on the brink of death and that we could finally be together.”
“Ma, you don’t have to…”
“No, it’s time you’ve heard this. We never really talked about him or my situation with him as you were growing up, but you’re more than old enough to hear this now. And I…I think it’s important for you to know the truth.”
“I know the truth, ma. You told ol boy you were knocked up, he stayed with his real family. You raised me with granny and granddad. The end. That’s my truth.”
“Fair enough, son…but…it’s not the whole truth. So…before you buck up and get in your feelings, just let me get this all out.”
I sat back in my chair, extending my arms forward, signaling for her to continue. I really didn’t want to hear whatever truth she was convinced I needed to hear, but if it would make her feel better I’d endure it. Instead of immediately launching into her story, my mother and I sat in silence for what seemed like a long stretch of time—but in actuality was maybe a minute or so. Her eyes shone with glossy, unshed tears and her voice trembled slightly as she began her speech again. I felt my chest getting tight and instinctively wanted to tell her she didn’t have to say whatever it was she thought I needed to hear right now to get me to talk to that guy. As far as I was concerned, the only man I had known as a father was six feet under.
“The reason you are a Holt and not a Parker is because I wanted to hurt your father. Like I said, we were engaged in…a rather…delicate situation when I found out you had been conceived. When I told Robert he was thrilled. He came to my first obstetrics appointment, wanted to be front and center when we first heard your heartbeat. Your conception was like a switch to finally legitimize our relationship. Robert told me he was making plans to separate from Paula and we could finally be together. I accompanied him to his divorce lawyer’s office to file the papers and everything. About a week after he told Paula he was filing for divorce, she revealed that she too was pregnant…about six weeks further along than me.”
She paused and I moved to the chair that was closer to her, so she was in arm’s reach. Just running down this story seemed to be draining her of energy with each word expelled.
“I’ll never forget when he told me that Paula was expecting, too. I thought it was an excuse. That all of his grandstanding about getting a divorce and us being a family was a lie. He never wanted any of that; he was just stringing me along because I was young and foolish. I put him out immediately, calling him everything but a child of God. I told him neither one of us would have nothing to do with him so long as we walked this Earth. But your father, he was persistent. He kept coming around, stayed in the loop—calling your grandparents about my prenatal care and just checking up on me in general. My stubborn nature wouldn’t allow me to recognize that he was genuinely making an effort. And when I was about seven months pregnant with you, your granddad let me have it. He knew about the unconventional way in which Robert and I got together—and was not pleased—but wanted me to recognize his efforts in trying to do right by us in some way. I was not to be moved. He broke me, so I wanted to break him. So I used you as leverage. I refused to give you his last name, let him near you, or acknowledge his necessary place in your life. I was hell bent on making sure he felt the loss of a son that I neglected to think of how it would affect you before it was too late.”
“He didn’t try hard enough, okay? That’s not your fault though,” I interrupted, “And we got along just fine without him.”
“Boy, shut up and let me finish. He did try. Stayed in shadows of everything you did, whether I wanted him there or not. He kept up with you in school, attended all of your graduations, worked tirelessly to get me to try to connect y’all, but…by the time I’d come around to the idea of maybe letting you all connect—to introduce you to your brothers and father and remedy those severed ties—you were wholly disinterested. And I just…” she trailed off, sighing heavily as a solitary tear rolled down her left cheek.
“I failed you, son. And it’s a regret I’ll take with me to the grave, which is why I want you to just hear him out. Give him a chance. He told me you told him where to go and how to get there when he showed up at the garage…”
“Sure did. I’m good, ma. I know you feel this guilt and that’s why you’re pushing the issue. But…I just don’t see the point.”
“Fair enough, but can you at least grant me this one exception? All I’m asking is that you sit down for a conversation. If you want no further contact beyond that, I’ll have to accept it, but I want to at le
ast feel like…I know I can’t make up for thirty years of lost time, but losing my father really put things into perspective for me, Reem. Robert…he isn’t all bad. And in a misguided effort, I managed to not only deprive you of a father, but deprive him of the distinct pleasure it is to have you as a son. I don’t want you to make a decision now, but promise me you’ll seriously consider it.”
She looked drained, but hopeful. I really didn’t want to talk to him at all, but I decided to tell her that I would consider it.
“Fine. I’ll think about it,” I said.
Just hearing those simple words changed her entire countenance. The tension that was evident in her shoulders melted away and she sat back in her chair. As quickly as she relaxed, she tensed again, narrowing her gaze at me.
“Consider it for real, Karim.”
“Ma, I said I would. Relax.”
“I’m just trying to make sure you ain’t paying lip service. I meant it when I said this is a regret I’ve long carried with me. And…life is too short for…just, don’t take this lightly, Reem. Give him a chance.”
I sat in my office playing with the previously discarded business card Robert Parker, Senior left the day he came by my garage unexpectedly. I was waiting for Celena to get off work and meet me for another mechanic lesson. Since I’d taught her how to change the oil in a car, she’d been bugging me to teach her something else. She’d come by the garage after normal business hours and I’d instruct her on simple tasks. It was fun watching her get really into my passion.
In the days after that revelatory conversation with my mother I spent a lot of time mulling over the idea of sitting down with Robert Parker. I had no idea what we would talk about. I wasn’t interested in rehashing the past. My mother did enough of that. The last thing I wanted to talk about was my mother being a jump off and my bastard birth as a result. As I twirled the heavy cardstock between my fingers, I weighed the pros and cons of having a sit down. Each time I thought I’d come to a decision either way, I could never commit.
