The Hurt

Father's Intuition

A knock came from my front door. I grunted slightly as I stood up from the armchair. I had been comfortable, under a blanket and cozied up with a cup of tea and a good book. I knew who was at the door already; my folks had come up for a visit, wanting to see me after I told them I was pregnant. I didn’t tell them about the cancer; I didn’t want to snuff their excitement about finally having a grandchild to spoil after countless years of asking when I was going to settle down with someone.

“Hey, sweet pea!” My mother greeted me, giving me a big hug before feeling my belly.

My dad gave me a side-hug and a kiss on the side of the head as my mother fawned over my stomach, “Hey, kiddo.”

“How was the drive?” I asked, stretching out my back slightly. I didn’t realize I was sitting in an uncomfortable position until I wasn’t anymore. My hips were widening with the pregnancy to make room as the baby grew, making it hard for me to sit in positions that were once comfortable enough to sit in for prolonged periods of time.

“Uneventful, lots of fields to drive past on our way here,” my mother shrugged.

I noticed my dad looking around slightly, “Pa, looking for something?”

He looked back at me, giving a slight sigh before answering me, “Your beau here?”

“Oh, uh, no…he had to go check in with some of his officers. He’ll be back for dinner, he said.”

He nodded, not offering another response, before taking his shoes off to sit down in the living room. “Don’t pay no mind to him, he’s just tired from the drive,” my mother said, squeezing my shoulder reassuringly.

***

The three of us were sitting in the living room, and I was showing my parents the latest sonogram pictures of their grandson, talking about work, as well as the date Sean and I had set for our wedding. We weren’t going to have a big ceremony, or a ceremony at all, for that matter. We were just going to go down to the courthouse to tie the knot. “Oh, but wouldn’t a ceremony in a church be so much nicer?” My mother looked slightly disappointed.

“Neither of us is religious enough to get married in a church, Momma,” I shrugged uncomfortably, glancing away.

“What about his kin? They live somewhere around here, too?” My dad asked.

“Naw, they live in the next state over. Met his adopted Momma last week, though. She’s a sweet woman. His daddy’s six feet under, bless his soul.”

“He was adopted, was he?” My dad asked, as if the concept of adoption was foreign to him.

I nodded slowly, “Yeah, he’s in talks with his birth parents sometimes. His blood sister lives in Michigan with her wife. I had only ever seen pictures of them, though.” Not paying attention to what my parents said next, I heard Sean’s car in the driveway. I was getting used to the sound of his new car, which we had leased him for work commutes. It wasn’t the car I would have chosen, but he was pleased with it.

Sean came through the door, a smile on his face, “Hey, y’all, good to see both of ya again.” My mother embraced him happily, dwarfed by Sean’s tall stature. My dad stood up to shake his hand and greet him, but didn’t say much else. “Y’all eat without me?”

“No, Sugar, we waited for you.” It was my turn to endear him with a kiss before he took a seat next to me in the living room.

“You made hushpuppies for us, baby?” Sean asked. I had mentioned dinner before he left for work, and was looking forward to the dish my mother and I were going to prepare this evening.

“Yessir,” I nodded with a smile.

Sean rubbed his hands together, “What we waitin’ for? Let’s dig in. I’m starving.”

“Set the table for us, would you, sweetheart?” My Momma asked my dad, who gave a short nod in agreement.

Over dinner, there was chatter between Sean, me, and my Mother. Dad would occasionally add to the conversation, but seemed quiet tonight. Analytical, almost, as if he was doing recon for his platoon or something. “Your hushpuppies taste alright, Pa?” I asked, feeling a little anxious with his silence. He was usually personable and inquisitive, and easy to strike up a conversation with almost anyone he came into contact with. It was when he was quiet or pensive that made me anxious, like a calm before the storm.

Dad nodded, “They’re fine, pumpkin, you and your momma did good.”

“You tell your daddy what we’re naming our boy, baby girl?” Sean asked, putting an arm around my shoulder, giving it a little squeeze.

“Grayson Earl,” I said excitedly, looking at them. I was waiting for Sean to come home before I told them the name we had chosen.

“That’s a fine name,” my Mother smiled at us.

“I named him after you, Papa,” I offered nervously. “Well, I stole his middle name from yours, but we thought it sounded right,” I looked up at Sean, hoping he would take over the conversation, “didn’t we?”

Sean offered a small smile to my pleading eyes, “Sure did, baby doll. We couldn’t be happier with our decisions.”

“Well,” Dad offered a sigh, “the two of you are grown, old enough to make your own decisions, learn from your mistakes too, I reckon.”

The way Dad had said that rubbed me the wrong way, “What do you mean?” I asked him, furrowing my brow slightly.

Sean cut in, “Sir, I know none of us was expecting this, but I’m here to take responsibility with Miss Kay. That boy is mine, and I’ll be the daddy mine never was.” He looked at me, “I mean that.”

I smiled at Sean, tears stinging the corners of my eyes, damn these hormones making me blubber over the smallest of things. “Thank you, Sugar.”

“Don’t cry, baby girl,” Sean chuckled slightly, using his thumb to wipe a stray tear that had escaped my eye.

***

Mother and I washed the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen while the men watched sports on the television. I couldn’t tell you what sport exactly, but Sean seemed eager to talk about one of the sports teams and the statistics for certain players. “You should sit, Kay,” my Mother offered me a small smile.

I smiled back, “I’m fine, Momma. Y'all are guests, you should be relaxing with Papa.”

“Oh, let the boys talk sports without me. It’ll be good for them to spend time together. Your daddy is still not sure how he likes Sean. But he’ll come ‘round,” Mother quickly assured me.

“Why doesn’t he like Sean? Is it because he’s black?” I asked her.

Mother shook her head, “No, sweetie, nothing like that. That sort of thing don’t matter to us any, so long as you’re happy.”

“Then what is it?” I pressed, hoping Mother would fold and tell me what Dad was hiding.

Glancing towards the sitting room, Mother answered, “Your daddy seems to have a feeling he isn’t good for you. He thinks there’s something off about Sean and doesn’t trust him as far as he can throw him.” Her voice was hushed as she said this.

“The man damn near uprooted his whole life to move in so he could be here for Gray and me. I could do well with a little respect towards him.”

“I wasn’t saying I agree with your daddy, I’m just telling you what he said,” she eyed me, “Don’t go shooting the messenger.”

“Good night, a-living,” I muttered, returning my attention to drying the dishes with a damp flour sack towel.