by Colt, Shyla
I glance at the guard standing behind her, but he doesn’t seem inclined to break up the catty bickering.
“I didn’t come here for this,” I say. I refuse to engage or encourage her. I came here to tell her what was going on with Bolt and leave.
“Why are you here?”
“To let you know what’s going to happen to Bolt. Your son. You do remember him, right?”
“Fuck you, bitch. You’ve always been jealous that I have a son. Maybe if you weren’t so damn stuck up, you’d have a man by now and child of your own.”
I count to ten to keep from losing my cool. “Like I was saying, this is about Bolt. Now that you’re here and Shadow has six more months, it leaves Bolt in the wind. We need to tie up loose ends until Shadow gets out.”
“Let Dad take him,” she says.
“You know he won’t, not on paper, and you know why.” I glare at her.
She huffs. “So what? You just want me to sign him off to you? That’s rich. You’ve been trying to steal him from me since the minute he was born.”
“What are you talking about, Calla? All I ever did was help you. When you needed a babysitter, when he was sick, and you had to work. Whatever you needed, I’ve been there.”
“Right, ’cause you’re the perfect one.” She rolls her eyes.
“No one’s ever said that.”
“They didn’t have to. We’ve both had our roles and played them well.”
I scowl. I want to cut her down to size. It’s been a long time coming. The resentment in me is boiling up inside. I swallow it down. My beautiful nephew deserves the very best I can do for him. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I have the paperwork here. They’ll bring it to you to sign. I can’t tell you what to do. But we both know Bolt needs to be covered.”
“And you’ll what? Move him into your swanky apartment, and keep him away from the family?”
“No, I’ll move into your place, and give up my swanky apartment.”
“But you love that place.”
I shrug. “Family first.”
A wicked laugh erupts from her lips. “Give me the papers, I’ll sign them.”
It’s more to spite me than anything else. But it’s a means to an end, so I take it. I’ll be the whipping girl if it gets me what I want.
“How will it feel to be in my home with my son and my ex, and know neither of them will ever be yours?” she asks, taunting me.
I clench my jaw. Times like this I know one-hundred percent that she knew about my forever crush on Shadow. The slick smile on her lips makes me want to slam her face into the metal table she’s seated in front of. Calla has always had the magical ability to pull out the worst in me. I bite my tongue so hard I taste the unmistakable metallic tinge of blood. Gripping the edge of my chair I take deep breaths.
Silence falls as the papers are delivered. She signs and my tension eases. Once the papers reach my desk, I let out a sigh of relief. “You want to know how it’ll feel, Calla?” I whisper.
She nods.
“About the same way it’ll feel for you to be in here while I help Bolt grow, watch him graduate, and send him off to adulthood. All while living with the one man you procreated with who hates your guts.”
Her jaw drops.
I smirk. “We’re done here. Oh, and you’re welcome for the clean up on aisle Calla. If anything good can come out of this, it’s the fact you’ll be forced to get clean and hopefully, get your shit straight. I don’t feel competition, how could I? You’re a child in an adult’s body doing a piss poor job of managing her life. I don’t know where we went wrong, but I know it’s not on me. I think you woke up one day and decided to hate me. It used to bother me. Now, I’m just numb.” I push away, wave the paper at her, and stalk out with my head high. It feels good to be the one with the last word for once.
A weight lifts off my shoulders. I can’t worry about Calla, tiptoe around her feelings, take her abuse, and run a household with an angry teenager. It was time to let this go. When doubt creeps in, I remember what’s at stake and wrap Shadow’s words around me like a shield. I had at least one person behind me. Maybe that was all I ever needed.
This was my chance to fix all the things not working in my life. I deserve to be happy. Maybe if I tell myself that enough, I’ll begin to believe it. I welcome the sunshine on my face as I step from the beige building, inhaling the fragrant air and rejoicing in my freedom. The thing most of us take for granted, others pray for. I walk to my car with an extra sway to my step. I’m going to rock this moment, because I feel like a superhero walking into the sunset after winning a battle.
“Did she sign them?”
“Hello to you, too, Bolty,” I reply, closing the door behind me.
“Come on, Aunt Blue,” he all but whines.
“Of course she signed them. She wants what’s best for you, always,” I say softly.
“I wish I were young and naïve enough to believe those lies,” Bolt counters. His blue eyes are so like his father’s while filled with sorrow, and his eyebrows almost come to a point. His angular face takes on a sullen expression and his full lips turn down at the corners.
His words gut me. I want to pull him into my arms and hug him, but he’s long outgrown those days when a hug and kiss can make it better. “She does, she just doesn’t know how to be an adult, baby.”
“That’s no excuse.” He sneers.
I shake my head sadly. “No, it isn’t.”
“I always loved that about you.”
“What?” I ask.
“You never let her off the hook like Pops does. You just told me it wasn’t my fault.”
“Because it wasn’t and isn’t.”
“Yeah, I get that now, but back then…” He trails off, and shakes his head.
I hold my breath. It’s rare when he opens up these days, and I don’t want to spook him.
“I would’ve given anything to have her look at me and really see me. To make her love me the way—other mom’s do. Then I realized something. I might not have her, but I have always had you.”
“And you always will,” I say instinctively.
“I know, and I love you for that.”
He might tower over me at six foot two, but right now, all I can see is the four-year-old little boy who carried his blue blanket everywhere and followed behind me like a shadow. “Can I hug you?”
“I’d like that.”
I wrap my arms around his waist and hug him tight. “We’re going to be okay, me and you. I promise you that. I’m not trying to take your mom’s place. There are things I won’t get right on the first try. But if you give me a chance, I will learn. Don’t give up on me, Bolty.”
“I could say the same thing,” he replies.
The waver in his voice hurts my heart. “Never. What does my tattoo say?” I ask.
“Family over everything.”
“That’s right.”
He holds me tighter, and for a moment we’re two people adrift in a sea of hurt, change, and uncertainty.
Chapter Four
One Way or Another
Blue
I wipe the sweat off the back of my brow and jog to my room to change. It’s Monday, and Jamie is stopping by for dinner. It’s a habit he’s picked up since I moved into Calla’s house. The spaghetti and homemade meatballs are resting over a small flame, and the garlic bread is crisping in the oven.
“Something smells good, Aunt Blue. Did you make my favorite?” Bolton asks, leaning out of his room. Braced in the doorframe with his dark hair falling over his right eye and his KOC T-shirt he’s a younger version of his father. There was never any doubt that Bolton belonged to Shadow. He’s always favored the attractive male.
“I did. Does that mean you’ll join us tonight?”
Bolt rolls his eyes. “Like I’d leave you alone with that guy.”
“Why don’t you like Jamie? He’s nice.”
“No, he pretends to be nice while you’re around. I know he doesn’t
like me or the club. Everyone can tell. Why do you think Gramps doesn’t like him?” Bolt asks.
“Because Pops doesn’t like anyone outside of KOC.”
Bolt shakes his head. “I think you’re wrong. There’s something more to Mr. Preppy.” Bolt nods to my hand. “I don’t like the thought of him taking you away either.”
“That could never happen,” I say.
“This is the most I’ve seen you in a long time, Aunt Blue. He kept you away a lot more than you realize.”
I pause, thinking about his words. I lean over and place my hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry if I haven’t been there enough for you, Bolt.”
“You’ve done more for me than my own mom.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why? It’s true!” His brow wrinkles and his dark eyes grow colder. “I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty. I’m just looking out for you.”
“I appreciate it, but I think that’s my job, kiddo,” I reply, gently pushing his hair away from his face.
“I’m not a kid.”
“Hey, you’ll always be my kiddo. And I know you can take care of yourself just fine, Bolt. But in this family, we take care of each other.”
He meets my gaze.
For a moment, I can see the boy he once was. The shadows dissipate, and I hold my breath.
“Yeah, I can agree to that.”
“Love you, Bolty. Now, I need to go change. The food should be ready in about ten minutes, and Jamie should be here around then, too.”
“I’ll answer the door if you’re still getting ready,” he mumbles.
The gesture melts me a little bit. He’s trying. Given what he’s been through recently, it’s all I can do. I can’t imagine what it would be like seeing your mom hauled off from the courtroom headed to jail. Visiting my mom from behind a glass would kill something inside me. After a month, provided she earns good behavior, the one-on-one visitations could begin. Well, as close as he would get to one-on-one in the next three years.
I push the tangled web of craziness that is my life to the back of my head and continue my trek to the bedroom. I’d redone it. I ditched Calla’s threadbare sheets, painted it a soft blue, moved in my Tempurpedic king size monstrosity, and decorated the walls. Her place had always seemed too sterile. I’d changed that little by little over the past two months. Things were settling here. Truth be told, I didn’t miss the apartment the way I thought I would. I’d even taken up gardening the way I’d always wanted. I shed my work clothing, tossed them in the wicker hamper in the corner, and pulled on a comfortable pair of jeans with holes in the knee and a KOC T-shirt. After I run a brush through my hair and tuck it behind my ear, the doorbell rings.
“I got it,” Bolt calls.
I bet you do. He reminds me of Pop and Shadow when he narrows his gaze, and gives Jamie the ninth-degree. Thankfully, Jamie is a good sport.
I rush into the kitchen, pull the garlic bread out, set it on the stove, and turn off the oven. I walk out to the living room and find Bolt sitting across from Jamie in a chair. “Hey, guys, are you hungry?”
“Starving. I’ve missed your cooking, Blue,” Jamie says.
My smile falters. He keeps pushing for more than I can give him. The ring all but burns my finger. I need to give it back. Every time I try, he runs roughshod over me. I sigh. He’s a normalcy I need right now. I don’t want to push him away, but so much about our relationship right now is wrong.
“I don’t know how, man. You’re here every other day,” Bolt mutters.
I sigh. “Bolt—”
“It’s true,” Bolt says.
Jamie laughs. “It is true. You know I always want to be where you are.” He stares at me.
Under his intense gaze, I’m feeling uncomfortable. “Come on, the food is ready.”
The boys rise, and Jamie moves over and wraps his arm around my waist. “How was work today?”
“Good. I’m going to miss the little boogers when summer break comes.” I sigh.
“What are your plans for the summer?” he asks.
“Gardening.”
“What do you think about a trip, just you and me?”
“Jamie—”
“I know. I know you think I didn’t understand your…family situation. Let me prove I do. Bring me around to some events, give me a chance.”
I sigh. “And if we see it doesn’t work?”
“Then you can return my ring, and I’ll back off.”
“You want to do this?” I ask, knowing the shit he’s going to be given.
“Only way you’re going to get rid of me, doll. I know we can make a go of this.”
I sigh. “Fine, there’s a party at the club. Friday, be ready.”
His grin makes me shiver. I never knew a man who was such a glutton for punishment. “Excellent.”
We move into the room, and he takes a seat beside my chair. Bolt takes the chair across from me.
“You boys sit. I’ll get everything to the table.”
“No, you cooked, Aunt Blue. Let me help bring the bread in at least.”
I smile at Bolt, proud as punch. He might not be mine, but at times like this, it felt damn close. In the past, I’d stayed at local college for him. There was no way I could go across the country where I would’ve been be worried about him on a daily basis.
Dixie Rose, my best friend since forever, had advised against it. She knew if I didn’t leave after graduation I would never get out, but she didn’t understand family. Born to an African American King chaser who’d attempted to abort her, she had no one but her Dad, and a seat of awkwardness that screwed with her mind. Old bylaws prohibited African Americans from joining the club. It made for a white landscape. I was a quarter black and felt it. So, Dixie with her curvy frame, full lips, and the cocoa brown skin was almost an oddity. The club members loved her the same, but some of the old members would whisper and stare more than they should’ve. She felt that shit to her core growing up, and getting out had always been her plan. I miss her now more than ever. She has a knack for saying the right things. We’ve kept in touch over the years, but there’s nothing like having her here in the flesh.
Bolt sets down the garlic bread.
I bring over the pot of spaghetti and meatballs. After setting it on the silicone potholder I return to the kitchen for the pitcher of sweet tea that was a family specialty. My mom might have been raised in San Diego city limits, but her family’s roots stretched over to Mississippi. It shows in our words, cooking, and mannerisms. My mom, Pixie, oozes Southern charm. I think it’s what landed her my dad.
I pour them both a healthy glass filled to the brim with ice and sweet goodness. “All right, how about we say grace?” I ask.
“Grace,” Bolt blurts automatically.
His outburst makes me laugh—it’s an old joke. I peer over at Jamie. The sneer of contempt that curves his lip up makes me frown. Is this what everyone else has been seeing? Maybe he does play a role for me. My stomach knots. If someone in KOC saw this, they’d bust him down in a heartbeat. What have I gotten myself into?
He catches me watching him and quickly turns his frown to a smile.
Does he find all of my family so distasteful? “You’re going to be forty and still doing that bit,” I say, ignoring Jamie.
“It makes you laugh every time,” Bolt counters.
“It does,” I agree, happy to see his real smile. Four more months and Shadow would be home to help him with the things I didn’t rate to. I could nurture, guide, and teach him many things, but how to be a man wasn’t one of them. He needs his father.
“How was school today?” Jamie asks.
We turn toward him.
The smile fades from Bolt’s face. “It was school.”
“One more year, kiddo,” I say apologetically.
“Then what do you intend to do, Bolton?” Jamie asks.
I cringe. Only a select few can get away with using his full name.
“It’s Bolt, and I don’t kn
ow. Why are you so concerned about it?”
“Bolt,” I say, begging him to be nice with my eyes.
“I was just trying to make conversation,” Jamie replies.
“I’m going to do what my father did, and my grandfather did, and my great grandfather did…be prospected,” Bolt answers, and narrows his eyes.
I could practically hear him daring Jamie to say something.
“Hmm,” Jamie mutters.
Bolt tenses up.
I intervene. “How about we dish up some of this food before it gets cold?”
“Sounds great, Aunt Blue,” Bolt replies.
We limp our way through dinner with stilted small talk. By the time I gather the dirty dishes, I feel like a referee. “You got homework tonight?” I ask Bolton.
“Nope, got a test to study for though, so I’ll be in my room.” He leans in, places a kiss on my cheek, and heads down the hall.
“Your nephew seems like a good kid,” Jamie says, joining me a few minutes later.
“He is,” I reply with a huge smile. The pride swells in my chest, and warmth spreads through my body. I had a hand in raising this amazing young man.
“You think of him as your own,” Jamie says.
“You know I do.”
“What do you want for his future?”
“Whatever will make him happy. Above all in life you need to enjoy.”
“You believe that?”
“I know that.”
“Hmm. You put more thought into us?”
I sigh. “Jamie, you know how I feel about that.”
“I do, what I want to know is why the change of heart? We’ve been together a year, Blue. I ask you to marry me, and you bail? That’s not even like you.”
I want to tell him what I came to do that night, but I don’t have the heart. “I don’t think our worlds will ever blend harmoniously.”
“You never gave us a chance to. You kept me as far away from them as you could. I’ve briefly met your family a handful of times.”
“And you’re lucky for that. I wanted to spare you from the invasive questioning, cold stares, and tests.”
“I never asked you to do that,” Jamie retorts.