“Teaghan, you don’t have kids, so I don’t expect you to understand what I mean.”
She scoffed and stepped back. Before I could reach for her and try to make her understand my angle, Child Services and Leslie's parents were headed our way.
“Is this the bitch that hurt my grandchild?” Kim asked.
I shook my head because them showing up was the last thing I needed right now. It would be different if this was about Malone, but this was all about saying I told you so and proving to someone that they could do a better job than me.
“Excuse me, granny. Don’t ever disrespect me because I haven’t disrespected you,” Teaghan retorted with the how dare she look to her face. I couldn’t lie, Kim was being mad disrespectful. But I had bigger fish to fry. I couldn’t lose my son or allow the Phillips to take him from me.
“Tea, I’ll call you later. Thank you.”
“I’m Clarissa, and actually, I’ll need a statement from her before she leaves. So Ms. LeJune, help me understand what exactly happened.”
She looked at me, and I nodded my head, urging her to repeat the shit for the fiftieth time. I didn’t understand how many times she had to explain that it was an accident. Everyone was acting like shit didn’t happen.
“Houston had a job and needed a sitter. His grandparents had an engagement of some sort, and I offered to help him for a little while. We colored, ate pizza, and were just about to watch a movie, and then I got a phone call-”
“Was it an emergency, ma’am?”
“No, it wasn’t. I originally assumed it was Houston checking in, but it was a friend calling to uhm clarify something. I went to the back of my home, which isn’t far from the living room, to grab a blanket. I may have been gone for five minutes, and then I heard a noise in the front. I came and found Malone. I am a doctor, so I wrapped his arm and brought him here. It’s totally my fault. I shouldn’t have left Malone alone for a second, let alone for a few minutes. Don’t penalize Houston.”
“Now you hesitated when you said who was calling. Would youmind if we called the person you were on the phone with to clarify the timeline?” the child services worker asked. They were going too far, and I was sure it was just Missy calling to be nosey.
“I don’t see the need, but sure, I was on the phone with Bobby Harlow; you can confirm with him,” she answered.
“Wait you were on the phone with another damn man when my son got hurt?” The revelation stunned me and changed everything for me. So there was another man who was able to take her focus from what she knew was my prized possession, my heaven on earth? That didn’t sit right with me, and had my original assessment skewed.
“Houston, we want custody. Malone deserves a stable home. We can give him that. You can come by whenever you want,” Leslie's father said. Smoke was coming from my ears, and I felt the agitation I had been holding in for years bubbling over.
Yoking him up by his tie, I slammed his body into the nearby wall. Nose to nose, I stared in his eyes, challenging him to say some dumb shit like that again. No one was taking Malone from me until I said so. For three years, it was me holding it down and going out of my way to do what was best for Malone. I failed, I got bruised, but still, I did it without complaining or giving up my responsibility.
“Don’t you ever say no bullshit like that to me. That’s my fucking son, and there’s nothing you can do about it. I won’t be signing up to visit my own flesh and blood. Stop trying me and disrespecting me. When Leslie died, I tucked in my fucking fears and tears to give that boy in there a life she would want. And let me tell you it wasn’t with you idiots. She could barely stand y’all, and you want me to just hand you over the last piece of her I have. Think again,” I said through gritted teeth. My patience had been tried for the last fucking time, and for once, I felt lighter. I didn’t have to hide my feelings or thoughts. Malone was my fucking right hand, and there was no way anyone would ever take him from me without taking me with him.
“You see, he’s violent, and we are concerned for our grandson.” Before I knew it, I knocked Mr. Phillips out cold. Luckily for his bitch ass, he was in a hospital, and they could see about him quickly.
“Houston, what the hell are you doing?” Teaghan asked, grabbing my arm. I looked her in the eye and felt disgusted. Not only was Malonein this bitch, but it was because she was entertaining another nigga while he was left in the front. I shook my head.
“Teaghan, I’m good on you. This is your fault. And I can’t believe I left my son in your care. The socialite, the governor's daughter. I’m hard to love and you’re hard to trust. Leave!” I barked. She jumped, and it didn’t faze me. Right now, it was fuck everyone that stood between Malone and me. Teaghan was a liability.
“You don’t mean that. I know you are upset, but trust me, it wasn’t like that.”
“But it was important enough to leave my son by himself? Explain what Bobby was talking about that required you to leave my child, whom I trusted you with, unattended?
“Not right now. You are only adding fuel to the fire right now. Look around you, you are in a hospital, out of control,” she preached in a hushed tone. Clarissa was staring and writing shit on her paper, and the tears started to roll. I was weak; this was shit I was supposed to address long ago.
“Teaghan, right now, isn’t a good time for me. Once all this is sorted out, maybe we can try or talk, but right now I need to get in there with my son,” I said, kissing her cheek and walking back in the room.
The thought of losing Malone assaulted my mind, had my heart racing and my emotions on a rollercoaster. The thought of it being on Teaghan or on me took it even further. Right now, I was no good for Teaghan. My stress wasn’t her stress. My issues with grief weren’t hers, and it wasn’t fair that she was getting the shitty end of the stick. I would lay us to rest peacefully knowing I gave it a shot. A relationship just wasn’t for me right now, and I had to accept the shit and focus on what was important. Protecting my legacy.
Teaghan
“Lil baby, you gotta pull it together,” Missy said for the millionth time since me and Houston split. I couldn’t even call it a split. It’s been a week and I hadn’t heard from him at all. Not a text, a phone call or pigeon carrier. I hoped by now he would have calmed down and at least reached out. I was looking for an apology or at least him admitting he overreacted. I thought more of him and I guess that was my own damn fault.
Houston was a ticking time bomb that I threw myself in front of. Only problem was I was the only suffering from the damage. Life was in shambles by my definition. I didn’t have a job, no boyfriend and I felt like death. After all the push and pull I missed him. This was the first time in a long time that I chose to stay in the moment and feel sorrow.
“I’m sick of pulling it together. I guess I should just move on and act like we didn’t have something. I normally see shit like this from a mile away and I can prep and prepare. But not this.”
“You are a good woman and you and I both know this was an accident and he went too far. That’s not your fault. I’m not saying you can’t be sad or upset but I am saying you need to let it be and stop sitting in the dark going over and over about it.”
