Page 65 of Until Nalia
“It’s Monday, she’s at school.”
“Oh,” she mutters. “I’ve been e-mailing her, and I haven’t heard back for over a week now.”
“I’m sure it’s not on purpose, she’s been busy with school and started socc…”
“I would like to hear from my daughter.” She cuts me off. “I know that I allowed you custody, but she’s still my kid.”
“I know.” I feel sick, physically sick. I set down the piece of pita I’m holding and wipe my fingers on my napkin. I don’t look over at Logan, but I feel him get closer. “I promise she’s doing amazing; she loves her school and really likes soccer.”
“Yeah? And let me guess, she also loves your family and Tennessee.” I press my lips together. “I’m starting to have second thoughts about our arrangement, Nalia.”
“What?” My stomach sinks, and Logan tenses.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have allowed you custody, maybe I should have just let CPS take her, that way I could know that she’s okay.”
“You know she’s okay, she’s happy and doing great,” I whisper.
“How do I know? You haven’t told me anything.”
“I just did, and you can call or e-mail me anytime and ask.” I want to remind her that the last time she called, she asked me to get money together for a lawyer, and when I told her I couldn’t do that, she got angry and hung up without really even saying goodbye. And if I recall correctly, during that call, she didn’t even ask about Zuri; she was only worried about herself. I don’t remind her of any of that because this call is already going horribly.
“I want to speak with her.”
“After I get her from school, I’ll make sure to tell her that you called and to remind her to check her e-mail...” I’m cut off when an animated voice comes on the line saying that we’ve been talking for three minutes and that it’s going to cost a dollar seventy-five to continue.
She must decide that she doesn’t want to continue the call because the voice comes back saying that the call has been ended.
Setting my phone down, I stare at it for a moment, then burst into tears and cover my face.
“Shit,” Logan whispers, circling me in his arms and pulling me over to his lap. Burying my face against his neck, I sob so hard that my body shakes. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not.” I try to catch my breath, but it feels impossible. It feels like a million pounds are sitting on my chest, and there are hands wrapped around my throat, stopping me from getting air into my lungs. I don’t know that she could change the custody agreement that we have, but the idea that she can scares me. Actually, it terrifies me. I don’t know what I would do, or what I could do.
With a quiet curse Logan stands with me in his arms and walks to the living room taking a seat on the couch. “You need to breathe,” he whispers against my ear while rubbing my back. I try and try again, it feels like it takes forever before I’m able to breathe without feeling like I’m struggling and even longer to stop crying. Wiping the tears from my cheek with the long sleeve of my shirt, I squeeze my eyes closed.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” His hand slides up my back into my hair. “You wanna tell me what that was all about?”
“It was Zuri’s mom.” A fresh wave of tears floods my eyes. “She’s been emailing and hasn’t heard back from Zuri.”
“Okay.”
“She mentioned that she’s having second thoughts about our arrangement.” I make air quotes.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“She’s talking about me having custody of Zuri.” My throat aches, “She said that she wonders if she shouldn't have just let CPS take her.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“No.” I shake my head while wiping away the tears that continue to fall.
“So, she’d rather have her daughter in CPS custody than with her sister, who has provided her with not just a roof over her head but love and stability?”
“I don’t think that Sharon cares about love and stability; she just cares about herself,” I choke out. God, it shouldn’t hurt to say that out loud or to admit it to myself, but it does.
“Alright.” He cups my jaw and wipes away the tears I’ve missed. “What do we need to do to make sure that she can’t change the custody agreement?”
