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“You’ve made that clear.” The disdain and disappointment in her tone is something I never forget.
I inhale deeply through my nose and let it out slowly before I respond. “I should probably get going. I just finished a yoga class and I need to have a shower before I start dinner.”
She tuts, probably exasperated that I’m making someone dinner when I could have a law degree. I really don’t understand it though. She and my father own a restaurant and were able to provide a decent life for my brother and me.
“Always so quick to get off the phone with me.”
“It’s just not the best time, Umma. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” Guilt eats at me over the fact I’d do about anything to get off the phone with my mom. But I always come away from any conversation with her with lower self-esteem.
“When will we see you?”
Guilt bubbles up and over. “I’ll see if I can swing by the restaurant sometime this week.” I don’t say house because they’re rarely there. Just like when I was growing up, they’re at the restaurant practically twenty-four seven.
“Have you talked to your brother this week?” She really doesn’t understand when I say I have to go.
I pull some fresh clothes out of my drawers and set them on the corner of the bed. “No, it’s been a whirlwind getting this little guy settled. I’ll be sure to catch up with him next week though.”
I’ve often wondered whether she ever asks my brother if he’s called me.
“Hmmph.”
I sigh. “All right, Umma, I really should go.”
“See you when you make it into the restaurant, I suppose.”
The attitude in her voice makes me want to throw my phone across the room, but if I have to replace it, it will only come out of my down payment money. I squeeze it hard instead.
“See you then.” I hang up and toss my phone onto the mattress.
It was probably perfect that I was planning to have a shower after this. I need it to return me to the relaxed state yoga put me in before her phone call.
Unfortunately, a hot shower can only do so much. It isn’t a miracle worker. I’m already irritable after meeting Brady’s friends for reasons I’m not even sure I should be. I still don’t know if that’s something I want to bring up with him or not. My mom’s passive-aggressive call was just the cherry on top of my already crappy mood.
After my shower, I change into black Lycra bike shorts and an oversized T-shirt and head down to the kitchen to prepare dinner.
When I started, Brady explained to me that he has to eat fairly clean with football season starting soon, and once training camp starts, the nutritionists will have strict guidelines for him and will even do all his meal prep for him, if required. So tonight, we’re having chicken tacos. Brady can load his with protein and veggies while Theo and I can load ours with cheese and sour cream.
Brady and Theo are throwing a football around the backyard, and I periodically watch them while I prep dinner. It’s clear how much Theo idolizes his father. And it’s also obvious to anyone who’s seen them interact that Theo is Brady’s whole world. When I think of the dominant, sexual man he was the night we spent together, he’s worlds away from the laid-back, loving man throwing the football to his son right now.
Dinner doesn’t take long to prepare, and I call them both in after I lay it out on the table. They come in smiling and laughing.
“Smells good, Violet.” Brady smiles as he makes his way around the island. “Let’s wash up, Theo.”
Theo walks over to where his dad stands in front of the sink and steps up on the stool. Brady turns on the water, and he helps wash Theo’s hands before handing him a paper towel and washing his own. When they’re done, they throw away their paper towels as though Theo is Brady’s mini-me and walk over to the table. I can’t strip my eyes away.
Once Theo slides into his seat, I sit. “Do you need help putting your taco together or are you good?” I ask him.
“I can do it.” He grabs a tortilla off the plate in the middle, hoisting himself onto his knees on the chair, and pulls the bowl of ingredients he wants closer to him.
Brady sits beside me and directly across from Theo. I didn’t realize that would be the case when I claimed my seat the first night I got here. I’m still not sure which is worse: sitting across from Brady and having a direct view of his gorgeous face the entire meal or sitting beside him where I can feel his body heat.
As soon as Theo puts all the ingredients in the middle of his taco, he folds it in half and brings it up to his mouth—causing everything inside to slide out the bottom onto the plate. Brady and I laugh.
“Why don’t you let me fold it for you so that doesn’t happen, buddy?” Brady slides his chair back and walks over to Theo. He uses a spoon from one of the bowls to scoop everything on Theo’s plate back into the middle of the tortilla, then he folds the bottom and rolls it tight before handing it to Theo.
“Just hold it like that, and you should be okay,” I say when Theo looks at me with a look that says he’s concerned it’ll fall apart again.
Theo takes his first bite as Brady makes his way back beside me. “There you go.”
