by Bailey West
“You didn’t select her for the position because you thought I would like her, did you?”
“What? Boy, you know your momma is a savage.”
“Momma! You and this slang!” I laughed.
“I know, I keep up with all these reality shows. Anyway, you know that I wouldn’t jeopardize this family’s legacy to find a woman for you. She really was the best candidate we interviewed.”
“She was, Son. I said that before your mother even told me that she thought you would like her.”
“Olivia does remember you mentioning my training in Georgia at the interview.”
“She does? I thought I was being slick.”
“She’s very astute, but I don’t think she thought much of it.”
“So, tell me about her, Sweetheart. Where is her family? Can she cook?” My mother questioned.
“She was raised by her Mom. She knows her dad, but he wasn’t around consistently. She can cook anything! Between her and Nette, we are all well fed.”
“What about Zora?” My dad asked. “Does she cook?”
“Zora is the taste tester,” I laughed. “She can cook, but she doesn’t very often. We are all okay with her just helping out. Zora reminds me a lot of you Mom.”
“I know,” my Dad laughed. “She is so much like your mom it’s scary. BJ called me the other day and Zora got on the phone to tell me about a female that was in her words ‘grinning all up in you and your brother’s faces’ while you all were out to dinner.”
“She told you about that?”
The family was out to dinner a few days ago because Zora had a taste for Italian so we all decided to go out to eat. The waitress was a little flirty. Everyone ignored her except for Zora. After we finished our food, Zora told the waitress what she thought about her. She didn’t get loud or anything but I bet that waitress didn’t flirt with anyone else.
“Yes, she said, ‘Poppa, I cursed her out, and I didn’t even feel sorry for it, but I prayed and asked God to forgive me. How do I know if He forgave me?’ She was so serious, so I had to hold in my laugh to give her an answer. I told her that it doesn’t take anything for God to forgive us. We just have to ask. She said, ‘alright Poppa, ‘cause that B worked my last nerve; but I just want to be right with the Lord.”’
“Yes,” I laughed, “That’s her line as of late, ‘she just wants to be right with the Lord’. She will read you the riot act then say, ‘you’re not offended, are you?’”
We all laughed.
“Sounds like me,” my mother concluded.
This was the first conversation I’d had with my mother where she didn’t give me the speech about my heart being a muscle and needing to be exercised and strengthened just like the other muscles in my body. She always said that I strengthen it by loving someone and letting someone love me. I believe my heart is getting stronger.
We arrived at their condo, and I carried their bags into the house.
“Hey Son, can I talk to you for a minute before you leave?”
“Sure,” I followed him into his office.
“Have a seat.”
I sat down in one of the chairs and waited for him to speak.
“I heard what you said while we were in the car about Olivia and why you haven’t asked her to marry you. I respect what you said, but as your Dad, I call bull manure.”
I scrunched my eyebrows and cocked my head to the side.
“Huh?”
“Don’t bull crap me, man. I know my sons, and I know that there is more going on than what you said. When Bluette men know we’ve found the one, we know. We usually don’t waste a lot of time after that. It seems like you are not fully invested, but you want the security of knowing that she isn’t going anywhere.”
I watched his body language in the truck when I talked about why I hadn’t asked Olivia to marry me. I knew he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t.
“That’s not it, Dad. I am fully invested. I care about her a great deal.”
“Then, what’s stopping you?”
I wanted to say nothing was stopping me but he wouldn’t let me leave until I told him something.
“Dad, I…I don’t know if I can be a husband. I want to be one, but I don’t know if I can.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know…Well, I do know. I’ve watched you be a great dad and husband but what if I’m more like Nigel and less like you? What if I make her life a living hell like Nigel did Giselle?”
“What makes you think that Nigel wasn’t a good husband to Giselle?”
“Come on, Pop! I saw it. I witnessed it! I saw and heard how he treated her. He was the worst. On top of everything, he nearly killed her! That’s a pretty terrible husband by every definition.”
“Have you talked to Giselle or Nigel about this?”
“No! Why would I talk to them about anything? You and Mom are the ones that raised me, not them.”
I folded my arms across my chest and looked at my dad.
“Because they are your parents!”
“Nigel and Giselle gave birth to me, but they don’t get the honor to be called my parents.”
I quickly stood from my chair to my feet. I took in a deep breath to calm myself. This conversation had quickly gotten under my skin.
“Pax, they are your parents. They love you. I’m not saying that Grace and I are not your parents because we are but, Nigel and Giselle may be able to give you answers to some of the questions that are obviously still floating around in your head. You have to forgive them.”
I rubbed the back of my neck as I paced the floor.
“Dad, come on. I provide financial support for both of them. I make sure they live comfortably. Would I do that if I didn’t forgive them?”
“I don’t know, would you?”
I stopped pacing to look at my dad. He shrugged.
Are you serious right now?
“Alright, Dad. I’m leaving.” I started for the door of his office.
“You running?” He called out behind me.
“NO! I’m not running!” I turned around and yelled.
“Looks like it to me.”
“I’m leaving because I’m tired of talking about this.”
“Running…”
“I’m not running!”
“Then why aren’t you finishing the conversation? It’s time, Son. I’ve let you walk around with this chip on your shoulder for too long. Sit down and talk to me like a man.”
“I am a man!”
“Then act like one and quit throwing a tantrum like a baby.”
I’ve never been angry at my dad but at this moment, if he were any other man, I may have punched him, but I knew better. He had already let me raise my voice without punching me in the chest, so I better sit down while I am still standing on my own. I sat back down in the chair and looked up at my Dad.
“Look, it’s my fault. I should have forced you to have this conversation years ago, but like the typical male, I thought that things would resolve themselves without us having to do this. Pax, you are my son. I raised you, so I know who you are. I know what you are capable of and I know when to back off. Well, I have backed off too long. Now you are sharing your life with someone. You can see her brokenness, but you are blind to your own. Are you a well-accomplished, brilliant man? Yes. Have you made millions of dollars for yourself and others? Yes. Can you provide the emotional stability that Olivia will need for you to be with her forever? No. No, because you are too afraid to let go of the past. Before you try to build something with Olivia, you need to work on your own foundation. That starts with forgiveness. Forgiving Nigel and Giselle and forgiving yourself. I know you’ve heard this before, but you have to put it into practice. Talk to your parents. Hear what they have to say on the topic. You remember everything through the lens of a child. You need to process it now as an adult.”
“I just don’t feel like opening up old wounds. I’m finally sleeping at night. Olivia makes me happy.”
I put my face into my hands. This conversation was draining. I felt my dad’s hand on my shoulder. I knew he was right. I knew that my past could affect my future but I thought I had a handle on it. I thought pushing it to the back of my mind and moving on essentially meant everything was fine. I know that’s not true though. I know it’s something that I need to work on. I’ve never been one to run from the truth. I accept it easily and I accepted what he said to me. I can’t hurt Olivia, so I have to work on me.
I sat up in the chair and looked at my dad.
“I will work on it, Dad. I’m sorry for raising my voice at you.”
“It’s nothing, Son. I understand. I’ve pushed all of you enough to make you want to hit me at some point, but it’s my job. You will do the same for your children.”
I hugged him and left their house with a lot on my mind.
16
Paxton and I have been living together for six months, and I’ve never been happier. We have integrated our lives together. We leave out together in the mornings for work and sit down every night together for dinner. He pays all of the bills and would not agree with me contributing, so I buy all the household items and the groceries. He tried to fight me about doing those small things, but I threatened him by saying I wouldn’t cook if he purchased the groceries. He relented and agreed to my household contribution. We have a maid that comes in a couple times a week but I make sure to keep the house straightened and she does the deep cleaning.
I go to Sunday service and Bible study with Paxton. He doesn’t pressure me to go. I go because I want to go. He hasn’t asked to me to change how I feel about religion, but my views are changing. I admire his dedication to God and the way his Christianity is seamlessly woven into his everyday life without him being weird. He doesn’t carry a Bible around under his arm, or say, ‘Praise the Lord’ as a greeting, to everyone he encounters. He says that his relationship with Christ allows him to be himself but with boundaries. Not with boundaries set by the world but boundaries that are between him and God. He says it helps him be a better man. I agree with that.
I am slowly learning about Christianity on my own and developing my own relationship with Christ. I thought that being a Christian meant that I had to change everything about me to fit into a neat little box but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Everyone in the family is helping me to understand. They all are so different but they all have a relationship with God. They are showing me that God loves us in spite of who we are.
The church has a new believer’s class that Zora’s dad teaches. I’ve been attending that class, and I have learned so much. James is an excellent teacher. He’s taught me about the books of the Bible, who wrote them and how they are situated into sections. I’ve learned about prayer and faith and several other topics that I never figured I would want to learn about. Paxton gave me an illustrated children’s bible as a gift. At first, I thought it was silly for a grown woman to have a book of stories and pictures. Then I started reading it and was so impressed by the simplicity of the stories. I understand what I am reading without all of the ‘thee and thou’ dialect that’s in the Bible. Some of those stories are like modern day stories with all the relationship problems.
Paxton and I have started praying together every morning before we leave for work and every night before dinner. Paxton leads the prayer, and I listen and agree. I’m still learning about prayer, but at some point, I hope to be the one leading the prayer sometimes.
Paxton and I are on our way to pick my mother up from the airport. I finally broke down and told her that I was living with Paxton. She took the news a lot better than I thought she would. I thought she would give me the whole speech about why would a man buy the cow when he could get the milk for free. She didn’t give me a speech at all. She asked if we could video chat so that she could meet Paxton. I did and they have been best friends ever since.
It has taken us this long to get her to Texas. Our schedules kept conflicting and then I had to argue with her about buying her ticket to come. She wanted to buy her own ticket but wanted to save up for it, when I could have easily purchased one for her. Then she talked about riding Amtrak instead of taking a plane because it was cheaper and she could see the scenery. We went back and forth until finally, we set a date, Paxton, who has become her most favorite person, said he wanted to give her a first-class plane ticket as a birthday present and she accepted it from him.
“Mommy!” I ran to her and wrapped my arms around her small frame.
“Olivia! Oh, my goodness! I almost didn’t recognize you! You look beautiful!”
“Thank you, Mommy!”
“Hello, Darling.” She smiled at Paxton.
“Hi Ms. Callahan,” Paxton smiled.
She moved into his embrace. He towered over her by at least a foot, but that didn’t stop him from bending all the way over and giving her a proper hug.
“It’s a pleasure to finally see you in person, Darling. You are more handsome in person.”
Paxton cheesed like he’d never heard that before. I’m sure I tell him how fine he is at least once a day.
“Thank you, Ms. Callahan.”
“Before my trip is over can we come up with something else to call me other than Ms. Callahan?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Paxton smiled.
“Mommy, which ones are your bags?”
She pointed to them, and Paxton went to retrieve them from the conveyor belt. She looped her arm in mine and rested her head on my shoulder.
“You really do look good, Baby. He’s treating you well, huh? I love this hair.” She ran her finger through my hair.
“You do?”
“Yes, Baby it suits you.”
I was surprised to hear her compliment my hair. I thought she would think it was too urban or not professional enough.
Paxton came back with her luggage, and we followed him to the truck.
We got back to the condo and got my mother all settled into the guest room. I’d prepared dinner before we left for the airport.
My mother came into the kitchen as I was pulling the meatloaf from the oven.
“Let me help you,” she said as she rushed over to the stove.
“No, Mommy. Your time here is for you to rest and relax. No cooking, no cleaning, no taking care of anyone but yourself. Go and have a seat. I am going to fix your plate.”
She followed my instructions and went and chose a seat at the table. Paxton came from the back and sat at the head of the table. They started chatting while I fixed the plates.
I bought all the plates to the table then Paxton grabbed my hand and my mother’s hand in his as he prayed over the food.
“Amen,” he finished.
“Amen,” both my mother and I repeated.
I watched her reaction to his prayer. She smiled as she covered her lap with her napkin and began eating.
“What do you girls have planned while you are here, Ms…I mean…I haven’t come up with a name yet. I will never call you by your first name because I was raised better than that and if my mother heard me call you by your first name, she would probably pull out the belt.”
My mother chuckled, “How about Ms. Mabel for now? We can modify it later?”
“I can do that,” Paxton winked.
“Lots of girly stuff like shopping, massages, and gossiping,” I smiled.
“Sounds like fun,” Paxton said. “Wh
y don’t you use one of my cars while Ms. Mabel is here, so you don’t have to worry about Bessie’s temperament.”
I cut my eyes at Paxton. He was always trying to figure out a way to get me out of driving Bessie. He mentioned it in front of my mother because he knew I wouldn’t refuse it.
“Bessie is still running?” My mother looked surprised.
“Yes, Ma’am. She is still going strong.”
“Strong?” Paxton lifted one eyebrow.
“Okay strong may be a stretch but yes she is still running, and I drive her every day…that she will start. Some days she is a little temperamental but for the most part…”
“The most part?” Paxton raised his eyebrow again.
“I mean a portion of the time, she’s fine.”
We all laughed.
We finished dinner, and I had to force my mother to go and sit down and not help me with the kitchen. Paxton took her on a tour of the condo and the building to keep her busy.
They came back just as I was finishing up. She had her arm looped through his giggling like she was a teenager. I know how she feels, he has that effect on me too.
My mother stayed with us for a month. She came to church with us and spent time with the family. Bishop and Lady Bluette came back into town, so she was able to meet them and spend time with them. She loved Lady Bluette. I knew she would like her. They went to lunch on their own one day and exchanged numbers to keep in touch.
Paxton and I spoiled her the entire time she has been here.
“Have you talked to your mother about moving to Houston since she has been here?” Paxton asked as we were preparing for bed.
“Yes, we talked about it the other day. She said she would consider it, but she doesn’t want to be a burden on us which is crazy. She wouldn’t be a burden at all, would she?”
“No, not at all. Let me show you something.”
He reached over to his nightstand and grabbed his tablet. He navigated to something and then turned it around so that I could see the screen. There was a rendering of a small cottage style house with a wraparound porch and a picket fence.