“Coming in your house acting like they’re doing you a favor by being here,” his mother went on. “Like we ain’t good enough.”
“Oh, come on, let’s stop it,” Aunt Luchie said. “We have to get along for these two. We’re family.”
“Well, Lord help us if we’re your family,” his mother said. “I seen how you treat family.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” my mother asked, getting up from her seat.
“Dropping your sick husband off in some home like you white or something. Whoever heard of black people just dropping people off to die with some folks they don’t know? And it’s only a walk and a stone’s throw away from here. And you people only go see him once a year and spend the rest pretending he’s dead.”
“You take that back!” my mother cried.
“Mama,” Jamison called to Dottie.
“No, I’m tired of keeping up this charade. That old man is sick and the only face he ever sees is one he don’t even know.”
“What’s she talking about?” I asked, looking at Jamison.
“I—” Jamison tried, but she stepped in front of him at the head of the table.
“He been going to visit your father in the hospital every month. Taking him pictures of your selfish ass, but he can’t even tell you because you’re crazy.”
“You what?” I asked. I got up. “You did what?” I stepped back from the table, feeling my knees turning to sand. “How? I never told you to . . .”
“Kerry, I just didn’t know how to tell you,” Jamison said, walking to me.
“Stay away from me,” I said, stepping back farther.
“Kerry,” Aunt Luchie called, but I turned and kept walking toward Tyrian’s bedroom.
“Kerry, don’t do this,” Jamison said, following me up the steps. I could still hear the arguing going on in the kitchen.
“Don’t say a thing to me, you jerk.” I turned on the light in Tyrian’s room and pulled his diaper bag from the door.
“I just wanted to keep him company. I was going to tell you.”
“I’m leaving,” I said. I wasn’t even crying. I didn’t know where I was going, but I was leaving and taking my child with me.
“Leaving? Because of this?”
“Yes.” I picked up Tyrian’s snowsuit and went to the crib.
“Kerry, you can’t take him out. It’s too cold.” Jamison tried to get between me and the crib, but I pushed him out of the way and went and lifted Tyrian up to put the snowsuit on him.
“I can’t let you,” Jamison said.
“You touch me or my child, and one of us is going to the hospital and the other one is going to jail,” I said sternly. I slid Tyrian into the snowsuit and picked him up.
“You’re not in your right mind,” he said.
I turned to the door and Aunt Luchie was standing in the doorway.
“Kerry, don’t do this,” she said, putting her hands out to take the baby.
“You don’t know what’s going on here.” I started crying. Tyrian opened his eyes and looked up at me.
“He didn’t mean to keep it from you; hear him out.”
“Kerry, I—” Jamison touched my arm.