8
Katrina
“You didn’t have to be so mean to him, Mom. He was only trying to be nice.”
“There’s no such thing, baby.” Opening the front door to the very same apartment I was born in, I kick my sneakers off with a grunt of relief and toss my bag onto the side table. At ease, Mac moves past me and dumps his bag in the middle of the floor. “There’s no such thing as a selfless man, honey. But we’re trying to change that, aren’t we?” I follow him into the living room and narrow my eyes at the mess he’s already made. “Pick your shit up right now before I go postal on you. You don’thaveto mess up a room just because you’re in it.”
Letting out a dramatic sigh, Mac turns on his heels and throws his head back as though my request is the worst thing that could ever happen to him. Swinging an arm out, he snags his backpack and heads toward his bedroom. “That dude was only trying to be nice, Mom. He was nice last night when Zeke was being a dick, and he was nice tonight when I asked for help on my homework. He didn’t try to sell me drugs or touch my bathing suit areas once.”
“Mac!” I move into the hall. “Don’t say that shit!”
“Well, that’s what you’re implying!” He tosses his bag through his bedroom door, then comes back into the hall and heads straight for me. “You’re implying the dude is gonna groom me to be his little bitch or some shit. He was nice; he didn’t get too close; he didn’t touch me one single time, and if he did, I know how to defend myself.”
Stopping in front of me, my son almost forces me to lookup. I’m not sure when that happened, but the swift passage of time both hurts and comforts me. “You’ve taught me to watch out for the predators. You put the fear of God inside my heart for stepping out of line. And you make sure my homework is done, or I face a firing squad. The dude explained the math question, then he let me do the second one on my own. And Ray was sitting there the whole time. You gotta learn to relax.”
“I don’t get to relax, babe.” I reach up and rest my hands on his strong shoulders. Staring into my son’s green eyes, I thank my lucky stars that he looks like my daddy and not Zeke. “I’ve been on alert since the day you were born, and I don’t get to step down again until you’re forty-five and have gone thirty consecutive days without getting into trouble.” The dimples beneath his lips pop when he smiles. “I especially don’t get to step down until you’re eighteen and a legal adult, and the way we’re going,you’rethe reason I’m always on alert.”
“I haven’t done anything bad in forever! I’ve been good.”
“And yet, I got a call that you and Benny were fighting in the cafeteria.”
“We were sparring!” he protests. “We weren’t fighting other kids. We were fighting each other, which means it doesn’t count.”
“Itdoescount!” I smack his arm and ignore the muscle that never used to be there. My son spends so much of his time in that gym now, it’s changing his youthful body in ways my heart can’t deal with. “Just because you and Benny are idiots doesn’t mean you get to fight on school property. Save it for the gym. Every time I get a call from the school, your counter begins again. Every time your counter begins, the more your mom’s poor heart breaks.” I hold my chest and let out a dramatic sigh. “You don’t want to be responsible for my broken heart, do you?”
“Oh, stop!” With a laugh, he walks around me and moves into the kitchen. Grabbing a small wrapped parcel from the counter and swinging by the fridge on the way past, my handsome son stops in front of me with a slice of chocolate mud cake with rainbow sprinkles and a small gift in rose gold wrapping paper. “Happy birthday, Momma.” He leans in and drops a gentle kiss on my cheek. “I love you so much. Thanks for always kicking my ass into line. Sometimes I bitch about it, but I know you’re looking out for me.”
This right here, this boy who’s turning into a man,he’sthe reason I work so hard. To make sure he grows into someone he can respect. To be a good human being who works for what he wants and doesn’t steal, lie, or cheat to get there sooner.
“I love you, baby.”
Stealing my slice of cake and setting it on the counter, Mac turns back with a large grin and wide eyes. “Hurry and open your gift before Grandpa gets here.”
“What did you get me?” With shaking hands, I peel back the first fold. “Did you steal it, baby? You know I’ll march your ass to the police station and hand you over if you did.”
“Just open it, dummy.” Mac’s hair almost tickles my face, that’s how close he stands. “Hurry up.”
When I peel too slow, when I refuse to tear the wrapping, my bull-in-a-china-shop child grabs the lifted corner and tears the package open until I’m presented with a heart-shaped wooden box. The lid readsI love that you’re my mompainted in white, and the wood smells like it was freshly cut. “Baby.” Looking up with stupid emotion in my eyes, I grab his shoulder to pull him in for a hug. “I love it so much. Thank you.”
“Macchio helped me make it,” he says shyly. “I didn’t steal it or anything.”
“You were over at the farm last weekend?”
“Uh-huh, but it’s not a farm. I called him up and asked for help, so we went into the forest behind his house and found the exact right piece of wood. He helped me shape it on the lathe, then Miss Megan helped me paint the words.” He scrunches his nose. “We had to stop a couple times ‘cause her baby got hungry, and I had to excuse myself so she could feed him.”
“You probably didn’t have to leave, honey. Women know how to breastfeed without, ya know, pulling everything out.”
My poor, sweet, innocent son blushes tomato red and shakes his head. “No, it’s cool. I had time, and I didn’t wanna see her boobies. Macchio would’ve killed me if I looked.” He nods toward the box. “Look inside.”
“Inside?” The lid slides around on a swivel latch to reveal a small compartment and another small gift. “Honey?” I lay the box in Mac’s waiting hands, then lift the next gift and start peeling the paper back. His large eyes follow my every move, and his Adam’s apple bobs with nerves as I peel the paper back and reveal a necklace with seven rings.
“I worked in the gym for a little cash,” he admits shyly. “The Rollers paid me a hundred bucks to clean the machines, then I took my ass to the store and bought this. The rings represent long life, health, love, wealth, peace, good friends, and happiness.”
“Honey.” My heart pounds, because apart from my father, I’ve never met a good man. My son is still the class clown, the jokester, the risk taker, and according to gossip around his gym, the flirt. But he’s growing into a man who knows how to treat a lady. He’s growing to know how to love women right, and he’s leaving all of the Douglas bullshit at the door. “I love you so much, baby. I love that I’m your mom too.”
He rolls his eyes when I pull him in for a hug and smoosh my lips to his cheek. Groaning for show, he acts like hugging his mom is a hardship, but his arms wrap around my torso anyway. His breath warms my neck, and just for a second, my toes come off the floor as he lifts me up. “Happy birthday, Mom. Sorry you had to wait all the way till eight o’clock for it to start.”
“It’s perfect this way, honey.” I drop back to flat feet and take pleasure in the way he instinctively wipes the red from his cheek. “My day doesn’t start until we’re together, so this is perfect.” When the front door handle rattles, I have a single moment to worry that Zeke is back, but then common sense invades, and I flash another smile. “Go open the door for Grandpa, baby. I’m going to order dinner, have a fast shower, then it’s time to get this show on the road.”