The Better Half(19)

“Fine. This is supposed to be my year as a no-drama mama. I’m not ready for whatever Graham wants to drop. Who knows how long my dad’s gonna be here, I’ve got all eyes on me in a new job, and I’m hurtin’ over Leo right now. Do you really think I can take on any more stress?” Marisol fully ignores my question.

“You can if it’s about Xandra. You gotta call Graham.”





SEVEN


Whack!

“What the . . . ?” A surprise attack from my father, and I’m not even three steps in the house. His smacks to the shoulder are always swift and let you know he’s not messing around.

“Nina, why am I getting voice mails from Graham like we’re still related? Why’s he taking up my time calling me asking why you haven’t rung him back about my granddaughter?” Typical Graham, pushing all the boundaries by calling my father to tattle on my mothering.

“Dad, I just walked in the door, give me a sec,” I say, setting my bag down and kicking my shoes into the front closet.

“I don’t think so. I already called Graham back and promised that you’d be ringing his line the minute you got home. He says he needs to talk to you about Xandra. Wouldn’t tell me what it’s about,” Dad says, leading me into the living room. “Jeezum pees. Not telling me what’s going on with my granddaughter like he forgot who paid for the wedding night that produced her.”

I give a slight smile. I’m happy to know my father and I are on the same familial side on this one. “Dad, I checked in with Xandra last night, and she said she was doing well. So whatever Graham has to say, it’s not an emergency, he’s just trying to get under my skin like he always does. Stand down, Sarge,” I joke, trying to loosen up the tense atmosphere. I need a cool beverage and a little more time before I can catch whatever Graham’s about to throw my way.

I roll my neck, left then right. I locate my phone in the outside pouch of my purse and shake it in Dad’s direction. Juvenile, I know, but the power balance in our living room is leaning way too far toward Jamaica.

I move at a glacial pace sitting down at the kitchen table to make the call. Dad follows, pulling out a chair to sit, folding his hands neatly on one of the brick-red place mats, and nodding at my phone. He’s not stepping out of this room to allow me privacy to stall making the call. Fitzroy’s awaiting evidence Graham’s on the line.

“That phone isn’t going to dial itself,” Dad says, offering up the obvious. Who dials anymore? I huff petulantly and tap Graham’s contact. Three rings pass. In my head I formulate a message to leave.

“Hey, Nina.” Graham’s voice traveling cross-country grates on my last nerve.

“Hello, Graham,” I say with a hint of irk.

“Thanks for calling me back.” His smooth, familiar accent meets my harsh one head-on, ensuring he’s in the controlling position, his favorite place. You would think that after seventeen years, I’d be better at not letting Graham get to me.

“I texted with Xandra last night, and she sounded fine to me. She was out getting frozen yogurt with some friends and said she did well on a recent paper in her art history course.” I rattle off facts about Xandra, needing to prove I’m a loving mother in the know. “I didn’t share that you’re in her business and causing me to worry unnecessarily.”

“You’re right, Nina, Xandra’s not in any real danger. Physical danger, that is.” Yeah, you know I’m right, there’s nothing I don’t know about my baby even if she’s all the way across the country. “But I am concerned by the company Xandra’s choosing to keep at Pemberley.”

“What? You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve always made sure she has lovely friends. Running with the wrong crowd is not how Xandra rolls,” I insist. Dad shoots me a fierce look that tells me this is no time for defensive language. I can’t help myself.

“I’m not so sure,” Graham says. A heavy silence hangs over the line. We’re each waiting for the other to speak. I stand up from the table and take the phone out to the front porch for some fresh air and distance from Dad’s burning ears.

“Xandra’s acting out at school, sort of trying on a new persona. I think she’s being influenced by Dash.”

“Please, what does Xandra have to push up against other than the occasional bad hair day ’cause no one in ten miles of that school knows how to do a tight braid.” I cannot believe this is what I’m hearing. This certainly is not worth all the fuss over calling Graham back. “Her life is the dream life. All the freedom in the world at Pemberley, none of the responsibilities. Don’t go creating extra issues, Graham, we’ve already had enough. You always were the more dramatic of the two of us.”

“Maybe she’s out of sorts from seeing her mama macking all over some White dude she had never met? Do you think THAT could be it?” I’m stunned speechless. “I thought we agreed we would talk to each other about any relationship we were in before introducing the person to Xandra.”

My eyes are burning with instant tears. “She has met Leo,” I stumble, skipping over yet another failure at our coparenting communication agreement. Section 18A—what to do when dating someone new. From what mutual friends tell me, Graham’s had a not-so-secret revolving door of women since he moved to New York. I figured my first relationship since our divorce was none of his business.