breakfast, so your timing is good. The scrambled eggs and bacon are almost done. And there are fresh biscuits in the oven.”
The kind of breakfast Auntie Jean used to make on a weekend morning. Callie’s stomach growled but, although she was hungry, she knew she was too anxious to eat. “I’ll just have some of that coffee for now.”
“You’re not eating?” Natalie asked.
Callie shook her head. “Not yet.”
Natalie held her gaze for a beat, then nodded. She was clearly curious as to how the meeting with Nigel went, but she knew she would have to wait to ask.
Callie went over to the coffeepot and poured herself a tall mug. She hadn’t had the tea at Nigel’s place, and she needed this.
“It really is nice to have you all here,” Uncle Dave said. “You’re filling this house with warmth, now that your Auntie Jean’s gone.”
Taking a seat between Uncle Dave and Kwame, Callie patted her uncle’s hand. Not for the first time, she thought about how she had always hoped to marry a man who loved her as much as Uncle Dave had loved her aunt.
“It does me good, having you here with me,” he said. “It’s been too long.”
“I know,” Callie said softly. “I know.”
She was going to tell Kwame that they needed to talk, but no one had eaten yet, so Callie decided to wait until he’d finished his breakfast. She had a second cup of coffee, but nothing else. She couldn’t eat when she was anxious.
There was more laughter during the breakfast conversation, but at one point there were also tears. Each day, Auntie Jean’s passing would get a little easier to bear, but she knew there were still many tears to come.
After Kwame was finished, Callie pushed her chair back and stood. She placed her hand on his shoulder and said, “Son, we need to have a talk.”
Kwame looked up at her and concern. “Is everything okay?”
Given that she hadn’t eaten, Callie knew he would be concerned. She preached the value of eating a good breakfast. “Yes,” she told him, patting his shoulder. “I’m fine. It’s just…I need to have a private talk with you about something.”
Kwame looked at her with curious eyes. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, son. You didn’t do anything wrong. We just need to talk, that’s all.”
As she left the kitchen, Callie looked over her shoulder. Deanna gazed at her and nodded, silently giving her encouragement.
Though Deanna and Natalie had spoken in general at breakfast, Callie noted that they hadn’t truly spoken to each other. There was clearly still awkwardness, which she supposed was to be expected, given the rift that had been between them.
But that was an issue Callie would have to worry about later. For now, she had to deal with breaking the news to her son that he had a father.
Walking with him upstairs, she led him to the bedroom, then sat him on the bed. She took a seat beside him and covered his hands with hers.
“What is it, Mom?” Kwame asked, his eyes wide with concern.
“I have something important to tell you.” She sighed. “And it’s not easy for me. But I want you to know that whatever questions you have, I’ll answer. Okay?”
Kwame nodded. “Okay.”
Callie paused a moment, gathering her courage, then forged ahead. “Remember how when you asked me who your father was, and I told you he was someone from my past? That I had my reasons for leaving him and didn’t want to say much more?”
Kwame nodded. “Yeah.”
Callie had known that her son had more questions, but he had respected her. He was sensitive that way. She guessed that he assumed she would tell him more when she was ready.
“Well, I want to tell you about your father now. He lives here, in Cleveland.”
She watched as his eyes grew as wide as saucers. “He does?”
“Yeah.”
A long beat passed. Then Kwame softly said, “I always thought my dad was dead.”
“You did?”
“Uh-huh. I thought…I thought if he was alive, you would have told me about him.”
Callie smiled softly. Of course. In his young mind, he had come up with a reasonable explanation for his father’s absence in his life. Because Kwame knew other kids whose parents weren’t together, but they still had a relationship with both their mother and father. He had clearly figured his father was dead for him not to know him at all.
The fact that Kwame had assumed his father was deceased made Callie feel even worse for her having kept him in the dark all these years.
“He’s definitely not dead,” Callie said. “And what I’m going to say may be hard for you to hear. I only hope that you know that it wasn’t my intention to hurt you.”
Kwame nodded.
“Your father and I…before you were born, we’d had our differences. Differences that led me to believe that raising you alone was the best thing. I didn’t even tell him I was pregnant.” Callie paused, noted that her son was looking at her with interest and compassion, not judgment. He was wise beyond his years.
“It was the wrong decision, honey. And a big part of me feels embarrassed to admit this to you, but I don’t want you to be mad at him.”
“So he never knew about me?” Kwame asked. “At all?”
“No, sweetheart. I want to make that clear to you. It’s not like your father knew you existed and chose not to be a part of your life. I…I feel awful for what I did, but all I can say is that at the time, I had my reasons. Reasons that seemed good to me. A lot has happened in the last couple weeks that has made it clear that I was wrong, and that you ought to know who your father is.” Callie paused. “So that’s where I went this morning. To see your father and tell him about you.”
Kwame was silent, and Callie could see in his eyes that he was processing everything. After several seconds, he asked, “What did he say?”
“That he wants to meet you.”
Kwame’s smile was hesitant. “He did?”
“Of course.” She ran a hand over his head affectionately. “Of course he would.” She kissed Kwame’s cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about him before, but I was scared.”
“You were?”
“Yes. With each day that passed that I didn’t tell you about your father and where he lived, it became harder to know what to say to you when the time came. Mostly because I wasn’t ready to contact him about you. I was worried about how he would react if I told him the truth.”
