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The fact that Tenley sees traits in me that embody a more than decent father means more than words could possibly say. Growing up with an absent father for all of my life, I made it my mission to do better.
To be better than him, no matter the cost.
Did I do that in questionable ways at times? Yes.
But it’s what got me here. Got me to her.
Mom does the unexpected and reaches for Tenley, her hands drawing toward her bump. “May I?” she asks.
Tenley nods. “Of course.”
“Tenley, sweetheart. I want you to listen to me carefully, okay?” Mom tells her in all seriousness, and Tenley nods her understanding.
“Like you said, we may not know each other, but I intend to know the woman my son is hopelessly in love with. You seem like a wonderful person, and I can’t wait to learn more about you.” Mom smiles before shifting her attention to the bump attached to Tenley, holding the other half of my heart. “And you, little mister. You make me want to do better. I will do better, and that’s a promise. You’ve got a long life ahead of you, and I intend to be around to watch it play out. Maybe you’ll even make it to the big leagues like your daddy. Or take up your mommy’s pretty looks and ability to put men in their place.”
Mom shoots Tenley a wink of pride. “Right on, girlfriend,” she tells her. “Graves men need a woman with spunk and resilience. I can tell you have it.”
Tenley giggles and, without warning, wraps my mom in her arms. “Thank you, Ms. Mathews. I can’t wait to learn more about you, too.”
“Speaking of,” Mom quips, turning toward me. “Do we have a name for the future ball player?”
As if on cue, Tenley and I look at each other in question at the same time. “Actually…that’s yet to be determined.”
36
TENLEY
35 WEEKS
August:I’m thinkin’...Willie?
Tenley:As in Willie Mays? Hall of famer and 2x MVP?
August:I knew I picked the right woman to put a baby in.
August:Love it when you talk baseball to me, Mama.
Tenley:We’re not naming our son Willie.
August:Ok. Fine. How about Barry??
Tenley:Barry Bonds? Hard pass.
August:Babe?
Tenley:Babe Ruth may be a legend but he will not be the man behind naming our child.
August:Fuck. I’m rock hard right now.
Tenley:Keep brainstorming, bat boy.
“Say cheese.”
I turn at the sound of the all-too-familiar Polaroid camera snapping, signaling August is close by.
Warmth settles in my chest.
“You ever gonna tell me what you do withthose pictures?” I ask, finding him laid out across my bed like he’s got nothing but time.
