Page 5 of Through Treacherous Weather
He was right. The psychotic, overprotective, always ready for war men in her family could feel like a curse at times, but there was never a shortage on love. Even before she met the triplets, for as long as she could remember, Fatima could give any of her problems to her father, uncle, or grandfather, and there wasn’t anything they couldn’t solve. She felt immensely protected. The men in her life were better than Superman.
But Fatima was no longer a child. She now understood the dangers that came with her father, uncle, brother, and cousins confronting anyone that wronged their loved ones. They were amazing, but they weren’t invincible. Fatima wasn’t alone when she expressed how she never wanted them to be physically harmed or behind bars for anything on her behalf. Talking to them, however, was the equivalent to talking to a brick wall.
“Justice,” she made one last attempt to talk him off the ledge. “You have a group home and a hundred kids. The last thing you want to do is get in any kind of trouble and risk getting this place shut down. Or being locked up and having to be away from your kids. If they keep stealing from people, they’ll get theirs soon enough.”
“Sis, I’m an ex-street nigga. This house nor this LLC is in my name. On paper, I’m an employee. And my kids are good and forever gon’ be good. I’m not gon’ kill the niggas,” he shrugged unapologetically. “I just want them to wear an ass whooping. Even if I do get arrested, I’ll be out before the ink can dry on my fingerprints,” he winked, and she was officially done trying. Justice and Wise were two of the most stubborn people that she’d ever encountered in her life.
“What you think about, Calvin though?” he changed the subject.
Calvin would be eighteen in five months. He was the oldest male resident in the home. He ended up in foster care at nine because he was being sexually molested by his stepfather. His stepfather went to prison, but Calvin’s mother never showed any interest in getting him back, so he bounced around from foster home to foster home. As Calvin got older, he became very defiant and disrespectful. After the age of twelve, the longest he ever stayed with one family was six months, and they got rid of him after he threatened to set the house on fire while everyone was asleep. He skipped school, ran away, broke curfew, and no one wanted to be bothered with him anymore.
Since being in the group home, he hadn’t been disrespectful nor disobedient. He was very quiet and withdrawn and rarely interacted with other residents or the staff. Justice knew it was important to try and help him get a job and find resources to help him ease into adulthood because once he turned eighteen, he couldn’t remain in the group home. Justice didn’t just want to release him into the streets with no plan, but he couldn’t make Calvin work, enroll in college, etc. He had to want to do those things on his own.
“He didn’t talk much. If I asked him a yes or no question, he either shook his head or nodded. When he did have to answer, the replies were short and dry. I asked him if he’d been applying for jobs, and he shook his head. When I inquired about what he would do once he turned eighteen, he replied get an apartment in the projects.”
Justice ran one hand over his braids. He could never imagine being violated the way Calvin was. What he and Loyal went through wasn’t as traumatic as what Calvin endured, and the process of raising himself and being out in the world with no one but his brother hardened him and made him an angry savage.He could see so much of himself in Calvin it was scary. And Justice knew that at seventeen, if someone was talking to him about getting a job, he’d tell them to suck his dick. He wanted fast money, and he got that by way of the block. Justice had a hard head and often had to learn things the hard way. The woman that raised him until she died, his mother, used to tell him that he didn’t believe shit stunk.
“We still have some time to get through to him before he turns eighteen. I don’t want to just throw him to the wolves.”
Fatima’s tongue clicked. “Hum, that’s interesting.”
“What?” Justice’s brows knitted.
“You’re determined to get through to him, but I can’t get through to you. No matter how many times I tell you to leave the watch situation alone, I bet you won’t do it.”
“You’re right.” Justice winked at his sister before walking out of the living room.
Fatima wanted to ring Heiress’ neck. At least Justice had assured her that they wouldn’t kill Caleb and Shawn. But what if Caleb and Shawn had weapons on them? Rubbing her temples with the tips of her fingers, Fatima willed her headache to go away. She had absolutely no way of knowing whether or not Caleb and Shawn were religious, but they might want to go ahead and start praying.
Chapter Three
Natalie gently rockedfrom side to side while holding her son, Wisdom. She kissed his fingertips and blinked away tears. It had been an hour since they got back home from the doctor, and Natalie was still upset. She already knew it before the doctor confirmed it, but hearing the words made it real. Wisdom being diagnosed with autism didn’t make her love him any less. Natalie loved her son with everything in her and in her eyes, he was nothing short of amazing. He was an adorable cinnamon-colored kid with a mass of reddish-brown curls on his head. He had the chubbiest cheeks, and long lashes framed his big, bright, round eyes.
Natalie had the patience and love to give to her son to help him navigate through life. The hard thing for her was thinking that other kids might be mean to him or that life’s challenges might be too much for him at times. She wanted to protect him. Put him in a bubble and keep him safe, but Wise would never go for that. She was the super attentive nurturer, and he was the he’ll figure it out, type. Wise entered the house and chuckled at the sight before him.
“Okay now. In a few more months, there will be a baby in the house. You still spoiling him knowing you’re going to make it harder on yourself. Why are you holding him while he’s asleep?”
Natalie lifted her head. “The doctor said he has autism,” she gave Wise a sad smile.
When her voice cracked, his heart dropped. Wise hated seeing her upset. He suspected it. They all suspected it. Wisdom was almost three years old and had never uttered a word. He wouldn’t say ma ma, da da, no or any other popular toddler phrase. He wanted to watch the same movies and television shows over and over, and he had mastered the art of ignoring people. When Wisdom was in his own little world it was almost impossible to get a reaction out of him. At one point, she was worried that he was deaf. But Wisdom’s hearing was fine.
Wise walked over and sat down beside her on the couch. He eyed his sleeping son. “Okay, it’s autism not a terminal illness. He’ll be alright. You already know he’s going to have the best of everything.”
“What if money doesn’t fix this?” She was slightly annoyed.
“We’re not trying tofixhim,” Wise stressed. “The goal is to utilize every resource and help him to flourish. I want him to be independent. I want him to talk when he’s ready. I already know he’s smart. It’s going to be okay.”
The confidence in his tone made her smile. “I know.”
Wise stood up and picked Wisdom up. He carried the sleeping toddler to his room and placed him in his race car bed. More than anything, he wanted to hear his son’s voice. But it would come in due time; he was sure of it. Back in the living room, Wise sat down and placed his hand on Natalie’s protruding belly.
“What he doing in there?”
“Feels like back flips. How do you feel about the diagnosis?”
Wise shrugged. “I mean, we kind of already knew. While it’s true that every kid moves at a different pace, I just felt like as smart as he is, he should have been talking. The autism thing crossed my mind more than a few times. I’m not shocked at all.”
“Me either. I kind of knew it was coming one day. I was just hoping that I was wrong. But like you said, he’s going to be okay.”
