Was he Grace’s? I couldn’t see his face. He had it buried in the ladies neck. She fixed the hoodie he had on his head further obscuring my view as she made her way over to us, her eyes never left mine.
“She’s pulled through surgery Mrs. Joyce. They stopped the bleeding in her stomach.” the nurse with the attitude blurted out unprofessionally.
“Thank God.” A relieved breath whooshed from her lungs.
The ache in my chest eased, but curiosity had me in a chokehold.
The doctor started talking.
I zoned out. I knew Tank would be listening for the both of us. My eyes stayed focused on the bundle the women Ms. Joyce was holding. Did he look like Grace or his father? Who was his father? The thought of my Grace giving another man a child caused the muscles in my neck to tighten. Was he still in their lives? If so, I knew he wouldn’t be for long. I started plotting his demise in my mind.
“Atticus,” I heard my name being called.
The lady, Ms. Joyce snapped her fingers twice in my face to get my attention.
I looked up from my thoughts.
The doctor and nurse were gone.
Tank had moved, he now stood behind her looking worried.
“You hear me, Atticus?”
“How do you know my name. My real name?”
She sighed. “Come sit down, this boy heavy as fuck.”
I almost laughed. She was more like Grace’s granny than just looks.
I followed her to a row of seats in the corner.
She sat for a few seconds looking at everything but me. “What a fucking mess,” she mumbled under her breath, causing me to wonder what exactly she was about to tell me.
“I know your name son because Grace told me if anything ever happened to her to contact you and only you. I called the number she gave me and he answered.” She shoved her thumb in Tank’s direction. I looked to him for answers.
He shrugged. “That day you made me carry her from your office, I knew she wasn’t staying. I gave her my card just in case she ever needed anything. I told her I’d helped her even if it meant not telling you.”
I wanted to be mad at him, but I was grateful.
Ms. Joyce started speaking when he stopped. “I thought about not even calling you and handling everything on my own, but something about that didn’t sit right in my spirit. I’m too old to be much good and even if Grace makes it, she needs somebody there when I’m gone. She thinks she can do everything by herself. Carry all the burden the world heaped on her alone, but I know she can’t and one day it’ll break her. She’ll need you. I know you’re mad at her. She told me about how she ran off and you might not want to help.”
I interrupted her, “None of that matters now, it’s all in the past. Anything you need me to do, I’ll do.” I said, meaning every word of it. Even if it meant raising another man’s child. That’s how much Grace meant to me.
She patted my hand. “That’s a positive attitude to have, son. Just hold on to that positivity after I tell you the most important part of what I need to tell you.”
“Where is the boy’s fath—.” I started to ask, but she cut me off.
“Hold on child.” she said before she turned her attention to Tank who was standing beside us, scanning the room.
“Is this necessary? You’re standing over me and this boy like a sentry. Ain’t nobody gon’ do shit to us in the hospital. Sit down somewhere.” She fussed.
I chuckled. She had to be kin to Grace’s granny.
Tank gawked down at me with a gaping mouth. I shrugged. What did he expect me to say?
“She said sit down. Sit down.”
He took the seat next to her.