“You chose living together, right?” Marisol prides herself on knowing me well. I love it when, after a lifetime of friendship, I can still surprise her.
“I’m not ready to share my space with a new man AND a new baby. I’m going to Omaha for a few days in late December when Xandra flies out to meet Graham in Miami over New Year’s.”
“No shit. I can’t wait to hear how Operation Mixed Baby goes over in the heartland. And I really can’t wait to hear what White people do with their weird uncles at holidays.” Marisol raises her glass in a gesture of good luck.
“The baby is more than enough for now. Moving in together, marriage. That’s a whole other can of I don’t know what that I have no intention of opening right now.”
“You always put off emotional tasks, sister.” We both nod in agreement knowing how true that statement is. “Speaking of tasks, tell me what’s happening with sharing the joyous news with your ex and with Xandra.”
“I’m telling Graham tonight and then Xandra first thing when she gets home next week for Christmas break.”
“Ohhhh can we call Graham together and put him on speaker? I promise, I won’t say a thing. I want to hear him squirm long distance. So fun!”
“I don’t need extra mess, Sol, I’m trying to be a responsible adult here.” Marisol and I erupt into giggles knowing how absurd trying to be adult sounds when the two of us get together about Graham. “How about if I call and give you the CliffsNotes after?” I suggest, knowing Marisol would grab the phone ready to give Graham a verbal beatdown before I could even eke out a hello.
“Well then, tell Graham I’m so glad New York’s working out.”
“I think he already knows you’re thrilled he’s over there hugging the Atlantic Ocean way outta your way.”
“I bet that’s the only thing he’s hugging. I can’t imagine any woman wanting those leftovers. He’s not worth the calories.”
“Well, this is a surprise,” Graham answers, distracted. Déjà vu, I can hear his fingers banging on a keyboard, probably barking out an order over email. It’s going to be a surprise all right.
“I need to tell you something, and I’m choosing to tell you before I tell Xandra next week. I’m trying to be fair to our parenting agreement.” Sitting in my car, I have Graham on speaker. I’m letting my toes dry a bit more before driving home.
“Okay.” The clicking stops immediately. I realize my tone leaned too far toward the dire. Graham could be imagining I’ve been diagnosed with the big C, since my mother was not much older than I am when she first discovered a lump. Even Graham doesn’t deserve that kind of scare.
“Leo’s back from Singapore, and we’re making it work. I should have told you about him this summer, but I’m telling you now. We’re together,” I state. That was some strong adulting if you ask me.
“Oh, Nina, you really must be thirsty to go dippin’ in the snow. What, you couldn’t find yourself another leveled-up brotha like me?”
“Screw you and your dick measuring, Graham.” A leveled-up brother would have been there for his family, not hiding out in a faceless tech park obsessed with making bank when his baby was learning to walk.
“Damn, you’re touchy. I’m just messing with you, Nina.”
I blurt out, “I’m also pregnant. And before you clap back with something smart, yes, it’s for sure Leo’s.” Graham doesn’t clap back with anything, the opposite of what I expect. Verbal toe to toe is what we’ve always done best.
“Graham?”
“Sounds to me like you’re trying to replace the child we already have.” Graham has nailed my greatest fear in telling Xandra. I worry terribly that not only will she feel replaced, but that she might feel so removed from our growing Pasadena three that she will attach herself to Graham’s world back east and disengage from me.
“Wow, Graham, that was jacked up, even for you. You’re obviously stuck in your feelings and trying to hurt me.” Graham and I can too easily sink right back into the crux of our failed relationship. I thought we would operate like my parents, who shared the financial and parenting load of life, and Graham thought we would operate like his parents, who divided and conquered.
“I’m not trying to hurt you, Nina, I just know how much this is going to hurt Xandra, and she’s obviously in a vulnerable place right now. What were you expecting from me, a congratulations?”
“I don’t know what I was expecting.”
“Well, I’ll tell you what I’m expecting.”
“What?” I scoff, but willing to give him about thirty more seconds of my time.
“I’m expecting you to call Xandra immediately. Or I will. I’m not driving her to the airport to fly home with your father next week holding on to this piece of information. I assume Fitzroy knows?”
“He does.”
“Well, since your old man is nice enough to fly to Los Angeles with Xandra, I don’t think he needs to be sitting on a plane next to his granddaughter for six hours keeping your secrets. You tell her now or I will.”
FIFTEEN
Nina 2:45 PM
I know both of you have better things to do on a Thursday night than come to a R-H high school basketball jamboree （well maybe you do Roan, Marisol I know you’ll be home in sweats）， but I need you to come tonight and see what’s happened to my baby girl.
Roan 2:46 PM
I’ll be there. I have news to share too and I need you both to be on my side. BTW there’s a yummy Guyanese Indian Queen here who I’d like to make my King. If I were single of course.
Today I sent Roan, along with a handful of Royal-Hawkins teachers, to a local conference on how to attract students of color to private schools. My cynical side believes this to be a fool’s errand when the high cost of living surrounding Royal-Hawkins makes attendance from other Los Angeles County neighborhoods a herculean trek. But my hopeful side and confidence in Roan plopped down close to two grand of the school’s budget to find out if we can attract more depth to Royal-Hawkins. Still, I bet he’s spending the lunch on Pinterest perusing wedding tablescapes instead of networking.
Marisol 2:48 PM
Lucky for you both my favorite sweats are in the wash. See ya there. May have a kid in tow.
Leo wanted to drive me to the airport to pick up my dad and Xandra, ready to get a jump start on ingratiating himself into the small but mighty Morgan Clarke clan. He attempted to mask his eagerness by saying he didn’t trust all the drivers rushing late to the airport, that extra precautions needed to be taken now that I was with child. Yes, he actually used the old English, with child. That phrase has moved to the top of the list of irritating things New Dad Leo has said since finding out he knocked me up. I reminded him that when I was late to pick him up for his flight to Singapore, he sped to the airport like a man possessed and managed to get there safely with no pregnant women harmed in the hard scramble. Leo compromised by insisting I take his tank of a car, and I promised not to exceed the speed limit. Xandra and I needed some quality mother-daughter time first before bringing Leo and his zeal for fatherhood into Xandra’s broody teenage orbit.