LITMIR.BIZ

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was wrong. A man shouldn’t meet his son for the first time at nine years old. He should meet him in the hospital, the moment he is born.

       Nigel’s hands felt jittery, and he clenched the steering wheel of his unmarked police car to steady them. Had he ever been this anxious? He was scared to meet his child, and that was wrong on so many levels.

       Perhaps scared was the wrong word. But he was definitely nervous. Because nine years was a long time for his child to have not known him. What if he didn’t like him? What if he rejected him as his father? Those were very real possibilities, all because Callie had selfishly lied. He didn’t care if they had broken up at the time. She had to know that he was the kind of man who would have done right by his child, no ifs, ands, or buts.

       She’d taken away his right to be a father, and that was unforgivable.

       As the downtown courthouse came into view, Nigel drew in a deep breath hoping to calm himself. He was angry, yes. But he knew he had to find a way to move past the angry feelings, because they would not be constructive in this situation.

       Because the bottom line was that he was father. In an instant, he had learned that he was responsible for the rearing of a human being.

      * * *

       Callie had planned to go directly to Uncle Dave’s house, but instead she kept walking. She strolled the streets of her old neighborhood, marveling at how different it looked. As a teen, the streets had seemed so big and almost intimidating. But as an adult, they were so much smaller.

       As she walked, her mind was on the pressing situation at hand. She would have to talk with her son. She would have to explain to him that he had a father, and that he was going to meet him very soon.

       All night, Callie had been concerned about Nigel’s reaction to her deception. Now, she was worried about her son’s reaction. The son she had always told to tell the truth no matter the consequences, would no doubt be hurt to know that she had not been truthful with him.

       She could only do what had to be done, and hope that her son understood.

       She made her way back to the house, where upon entry, she could see everyone was in the kitchen at the back. Kwame was seated at the table with Natalie and Uncle Dave, while Deanna was at the stove, tending to a pan of sizzling bacon. Kwame was chuckling about something someone had said.

       “Naw, not really,” Kwame said.

       “I don’t believe that,” Natalie responded. “I’m certain you’re very popular at your school. I know your mother’s going to have to watch over you like a hawk. All those girls who’ll want to date you…”

       Crossing her arms over her chest, Callie entered the kitchen. “Hiya, everyone. Exactly what are you all talking about?”

       “We were telling your son how handsome he is,” Natalie explained, running a hand over his head.

       Deanna, who was at the stove cooking, grinned at her. “And we were finding out the skinny on if he has any girlfriends.”

       “Girlfriends?” Callie asked, surprised. “He’s nine.”

       “Times have changed,” Uncle Dave said.

       “That’s for sure,” Natalie agreed. “Love blooms younger than that these days. I have friends who tell me that their five- and six-year-olds are talking about who their girlfriends and boyfriends are in their classrooms. Obviously it’s all very innocent at that age, but still.”

       “I’m certain my son has no girlfriends,” Callie said. And she was happy to keep it that way, as her son was too young for that nonsense.

       But when Kwame actually flashed a nervous look, then glanced downward, Callie couldn’t have been more surprised.

      Did he have a girlfriend? Obviously not a girlfriend in the true sense of the word, but someone that he liked?

       She made her way over to him and sat at the table beside him. “Son? You—you have a girlfriend?”

       “Well, I do kind of like this one girl in my class. Felicity.”

       “Felicity?” Callie repeated, stunned. Her son had never mentioned this to her.

       Kwame shrugged. “Kind of. A little.”

       Callie knew that he and Felicity liked to study together, and she was one of the girls in the neighborhood who lived close enough that they could hang out sometimes. But to learn that her son actually had a crush on her…

       Well, she supposed everyone had their secrets.

       “Help yourself to coffee,” Deanna said. “We waited until Kwame woke up to start breakfast, so your timing is good. The scrambled eggs and bacon are almost done. And there are fresh biscuits in the oven.”

       The kind of breakfast Auntie Jean used to make on a weekend morning. Callie’s stomach growled but, although she was hungry, she knew she was too anxious to eat. “I’ll just have some of that coffee for now.”

       “You’re not eating?” Natalie asked.

       Callie shook her head. “Not yet.”

       Natalie held her gaze for a beat, then nodded. She was clearly curious as to how the meeting with Nigel went, but she knew she would have to wait to ask.

       Callie went over to the coffeepot and poured herself a tall mug. She hadn’t had the tea at Nigel’s place, and she needed this.

       “It really is nice to have you all here,” Uncle Dave said. “You’re filling this house with warmth, now that your Auntie Jean’s gone.”

       Taking a seat between Uncle Dave and Kwame, Callie patted her uncle’s hand. Not for the first time, she thought about how she had always hoped to marry a man who loved her as much as Uncle Dave had loved her aunt.

       “It does me good, having you here with me,” he said. “It’s been too long.”

       “I know,” Callie said softly. “I know.”

       She was going to tell Kwame that they needed to talk, but no one had eaten yet, so Callie decided to wait until he’d finished his breakfast. She had a second cup of coffee, but nothing else. She couldn’t eat when she was anxious.

       There was more laughter during the breakfast conversation, but at one point there were also tears. Each day, Auntie Jean’s passing would get a little easier to bear, but she knew there were still many tears to come.

       After Kwame was finished, Callie pushed her chair back and stood. She placed her hand on his shoulder and said, “Son, we need to have a talk.”

       Kwame looked up at her and concern. “Is everything okay?”

       Given that she hadn’t eaten, Callie knew he would be concerned. She preached the value of eating a good breakfast. “Yes,” she told him, patting his shoulder. “I’m fine. It’s just…I need to have a private talk with you about something.”

       Kwame looked at her with curious eyes. “Did I do something wrong?”

       “No, son. You didn’t do anything wrong. We just need to talk, that’s all.”

       As she left the kitchen, Callie looked over her shoulder. Deanna gazed at her and nodded, silently giving her encouragement.

       Though Deanna and Natalie had spoken in general at breakfast, Callie noted that they hadn’t truly spoken to each other. There was clearly still awkwardness, which she supposed was to be expected, given the rift that had been between them.

       But that was an issue Callie would have to worry about later. For now, she had to deal with breaking the news to her son that he had a father.

       Walking with him upstairs, she led him to the bedroom, then sat him on the bed. She took a seat beside him and covered his hands with hers.

       “What is it, Mom?” Kwame asked, his eyes wide with concern.

      

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