Always Wrong - Xyla Turner Page 0,37

my life after a ghost or her. We honored him on the day of his birth and his death, but after therapy, Mom had been better. She said she’d grieved for him once, now he’d want her to live. To suffer two tragedies between our father and brother was more than enough in a lifetime.

“Nothing,” I told her.

“There’s something.” She looked at me over her glasses. “Maybe someone?”

“Never,” I answered automatically.

“Oh, son. The things you miss out on. You think you going to be a bachelor forever. How will I have grandkids?” She put her fingers together and did the Italian universal signal that meant everything. “I want to be a grandmother.”

“I’ve got that covered,” I told her. “You might have one within a year’s time.”

“Oh, you met someone?” she gushed and stood up. “What’s her name? Do you have any pictures? Does she live in London?”

“I haven’t met someone, Mom,” I said with irritation laced in my voice. “I am having a baby with someone.”

“Wait, what?” She sat back down and looked at me with both of her salt and pepper lashes pushed together.

I explained the basics of it to her, and midway through the part where I said that we would get a house, she held up her hand.

“Jacquez.” She shook her head. “Now I know I raised you better than that. You are trying to tie down a woman to have your child, but lock up her life, so only you have access to her? Not my son.”

The woman was holding her chest and everything.

“Mom, I’m not locking up her life,” I told her. “We have an agreement. It’s something we both want.”

She chuckled and patted my knee.

“I know you, son, and I love you, but you are like your father. It’s like a blast from the past.” She crossed her leg and sat back in her chair. “Your father told me that he and I were not compatible mates. Therefore we could only be friends. I nodded and would always come out when he picked me up, which was daily. Then he held my hand and I grabbed his back. Then he kissed me one night, and I kissed him back and on our wedding night, I toasted, To friends. The man had to laugh, because he was so clueless. We were so exclusive, everyone around knew it but him. Hell, I even knew it. That man would be my husband, and he was going around acting like we were just friends. Let me be the first to tell you. You don’t move in with a future baby mama. You don’t have her get dual citizenship. You don’t spend quality time with her. That’s an investment, Jacquez. Y’all may be having fun now, but when that baby come along, it’s going to be more than the fun. It’s going to be real, and I promise, you want a committed partner on a life quest like that. Not some agreement that can be broken because one of y’all is having a bad day. Having a child is a life quest, Jacquez. You of all people should know that.”

Fuck me.

She was referring to Mateo. Alive or not, it was something permanent. A child was not a toy or a puppy to sell or give away when things didn’t work out between the owners. They were little people to be nurtured, guided, and loved. This all started because of that triggering moment of watching Sheryl mourn for a child she never saw. It reminded me of my mother weeping for a child she’d lost to senseless violence.

Maybe I’d never mourned for him either.

Standing up, I asked, “Mom, are you good? I need to get somewhere.”

“I’m good.” She waved at me with a knowing smile. “Just bring her over here so I can meet her, okay? I need to see this woman who has caused my Jacquez to make this shift. Be careful, okay?”

“Okay, Mom,” I replied and leaned down to kiss her head. “I’ll come by to get you for dinner.”

“See you, son.”

Without a destination or even a place to go, I found myself being let into the gated community of my best mate’s house. He didn’t even know I was in town, but I had to have a chat. Instead of knocking on the door, I called him and told him I was outside. We went back and forth about why I wouldn’t come inside, until I hung up and he came outside.

“Bloody hell, what is your issue?”