Page 34 of Played
“Bet.” Smirking, I grab two newly packaged toothbrushes Caroline faithfully keeps stocked in her guest rooms. After ripping them open, I squeeze a generous amount of toothpaste on Khalil’s brush, run it under the water, then hand it to him. “Take care of that, bruh.”
Mugging me, he takes it and goes to work. Snorting out a laugh, I follow behind him, and he mimics my actions. We spit, brush, spit, and rinse together. When I grab his toothbrush from him and slide it along with mine in the holder, he holds his arms out to me, curling his fingers.
“Daddy, c’mere,” he orders. I bend down toward him, thinking he wants me to pick him up, and he huffs out a breath directly in my face. “See? I don’t stink!”
“Okay, you got me.” Chuckling and curling my hands under his arms, I lift him up, but he curls his legs around my waist and his arms around my neck, clinging to me and prohibiting me from lowering him to the floor. “Hey, how about you come to practice with me this morning, and then we can head over to the children’s museum?”
The Providence Children’s Museum is one of his favorite places to go, and we haven’t been there in a while.
“Yes, yes!” he cheers, his arms tightening around me.
“All right, let’s get a move on, then.”
Moments like these remind me that he is still my baby boy, regardless of how much he protests my kisses. Smiling, I carry him back into the bedroom, and just as we clear the bathroom, the door opens, and Caroline pokes her upper body through the cracked space.
“Hey, I thought I heard voices in here.” She grins and widens the opening, stepping inside the room. “Morning, Grammy’s baby.” She holds out her arms, and Khalil wiggles against me, and I lower him to the floor so he can run into his grandmother’s embrace. She holds him close, her eyes closing as she buries her nose in his neck. I don’t miss the whisper of pain that passes over her face, and it doesn’t take a mentalist to figure out that she’s thinking of Kendra. “How’d you sleep, baby?”
“Good, Grammy.” He pulls away from her, smiling wide. “Guess what?” He doesn’t allow her time to answer but announces, “Me and Daddy’re going to the museum!”
“Is that right?” She glances up at me. “I thought you had practice this morning.”
“I do. I’ma take Khalil with me. It’s been a while since the guys have seen him. And he loves going to the arena.” God, why does it feel like I’m explaining myself? Or asking for permission to spend time with my own son?
“But you’re going to be busy, and he shouldn’t be there alone. He could get into—”
“He’s going with me, Caroline.” I gently cut her off. “No need to worry. He’ll be fine.”
She looks like she still wants to argue with me, but then Khalil fists the bottom of Caroline’s sweater and tugs.
“I’m hungry.”
Snorting, I walk over to my duffel bag, drag back the zipper, and pull a T-shirt out. As I slip it on, I pad barefoot toward Caroline and Khalil.
She rises, switching her gaze from her grandson to me.
“Breakfast should be on the table in ten minutes.”
I nod. “Sounds good. We’ll be down as soon as I get dressed and Khalil into some clothes too.”
“Oh, you go ahead and get ready. I can take care of him,” she offers, already reaching for his hand.
“That’s okay, I got him.” I softly but firmly turn her down. Her smile falters, then fades. My heart constricts at her disappointed and hurt expression, but I don’t take my objection back. It’s been over a week since I’ve seen Khalil, and I’ve missed the little things—like getting him dressed in the morning. “We’ll be down shortly.”
She dips her chin in acknowledgment and leaves the room.
“Daddy, why is Grammy sad?”
I lock down the sigh sliding up my throat. God, if only that question had a simple answer. But grief ... I shake my head. It’s never simple. Not when it’s mixed up with anger, regret, and guilt.
“Not sad, li’l man. She’s just probably going to miss you spending the night with her and Grandad.”
His face scrunches up. “But I’ll be back. I won’t leave like Mama.”
Oh shit.
Pain howls through me like a starved, snappy wolf. It leaves behind claw marks, ripping my heart to bloody shreds. I swallow past a suddenly tight throat and blink back the burn in my eyes. And in thedarkest, dingiest, most secret part of my soul, I yell and curse Kendra for leaving me to have this conversation with our son.
For leaving me.
