Ghetto Love Bird

War

"Greg and Rico are still at war, it's a ugly over there on the west coast." Roman sat back on the couch after eating, filling Western in.

"Still? It's been 5 years," Western replies and Roman scoffs.

"There's a shoot out almost every night, a robbery every other. That's why I spend my time over here mostly nowadays. Things are getting even more heated."

"Who you stay by?" Western smirks, winking over at me.

"Now, you know better, Western," I purse my lips and he chuckles.

"Nah, I got an apartment over here not too long ago."

"You got someone for you over in the West?"

"Yeah, I got my men." The both nod in sync, as if at an understanding and Tera shifts in her seat uneasily.

I wonder why. . .

Lunch was a success really. Everyone was relaxed and settled on the couch, a glass of some type of liquid in their hands. Tera and Western embraced each other openly, and I could help but gently smile at the sight.

I looked over at Eastern and Sorayah who sat at their kiddies table, still eating. They both had their tablet out, but it seemed as if they were in a deep conversation. I chuckled, wondering what they could possibly be talking about.

Roman seems to share my thoughts as he sat beside me as well, not really touching, but I could feel his heat. He shaked his head at the two of them when Eastern gasps dramatically.

We were both still chuckling under our breaths, when Eastern stands up from his seat.

"Sorayah says that Roman is her daddy!" Eastern yells and my mouth drops open. I froze in the position that I was, not even daring to look over at Roman. 

"You weren't supposed to say anything!" Sorayah yells before back handing him across the room.

"Hey!" I stand up and grab her, smoke practically pouring out of my ears. Embarrassed, it took everything in me not to lash out in front of everyone. I took her outside, not wanting to be the center of attention more than I already was.

"Sorayah, what did I tell you at McDonalds?" She folded her arms, and ignored me, only fueling my anger.

"What did I tell you?" I yell, grabbing her by both of her arms and her eyes widen with fear.

"I told you that Roman is not your father, so why are you telling lies?!" I snap and her eyes well up with tears. She starts wailing right there on the porch, and I without thinking, I raise my hand to spank her, but someone grabs it from behind.

I turn around, expecting Roman, but it was Tera. Roman stood on the porch, with not much of an expression really, and who could blame him. I looked away quickly, back at Sorayah who was now in Tera's arms.

"Honey, calm down." She takes a crying Sorayah away from the scene, and into her car.

Tera already knew that the last thing I would've wanted to do, was go back in the house, so she drove us home.

Sorayah continued screaming in the car, and I still hadn't quite relaxed from the instance that happened a few minutes ago.

"Be quiet before I give you something to cry for, Sorayah!" I warned.

This quiets her a bit, but I think she was just suprised. This was the first time that I have ever gone to lay hands on her, but this was also the first time I had heard her tell a lie after she'd been corrected, and then be violent with another child.

"You went ahead and lied even after I told you what it really was, and you know we don't tell lies. And then you had the audacity to be rude afterwards."

Tera sat quietly in the driver's seat, and I thanked her quietly for not pitching in.

"I am so disappointed in you," I shake my head, looking outside of the glass, not knowing what else to say and by this time, she was quiet.

Tem minutes later we were back at the apartment.  I got her inside, and told her to go straight to her room.

"No tv and no tablet!" I warn her before heading back downstairs. Tera sat on the hood of her car.

We sat in silence for a moment, before I sighed.

"Alright, go ahead." I tell her and she takes a deep breath.

"You need to talk to Sorayah," she says and I raise an eyebrow.

"I'm trying to -"

"I mean really talk to her. You're reprimanding, and threatening, and scolding, but you're not talking." Tera says, and I fold my arms.

"Look, I'm not a girl mom, I'm not a therapist, and I'm not you, but theres obviously something deeper going on here, Honey. Why not ask her what's going on? Be gentle with her, and figure out why she keeps labeling Roman as her father. This is a cry for help if you ask me."

"She's three," I laugh incredulously.

Cry for help was seriously a reach.

"So what? Don't tell me you're going to ignore the signs? Do I have to spell it out for you, Honey? Your mother grew up fatherless, you grew up fatherless, and now Sorayah's growing up fatherless too," she snaps. It felt like she had slapped me when her words dropped, and the itch to defend myself arose.

She raised her hand, to silence me, "you better not ignore the signs. This is a generational curse dying to continue. And I'll be damned if I let you ruin yourself and your little girl be being ignorant. Wake up and smell the coffee, Honey! Your pity parties won't save you from the truth."

Tera got into her car, and drove away.

I felt humiliated, and look around even if I knew that no one was there.

I want to call Tera, and curse her out. I wanted to scream and tell her she knew nothing about me, or my family. I wanted to tell her that she never walked a mile in my shoes, never been through, what I had been through, but I knew that those would just be excuses. She was right.

I had been wallowing so much lately in the fact that I was raising a fatherless daughter, that I forgot to tend to Sorayah herself.

I was so focused on how she'd become, that I forgot that I had the ability to change that, to mold it.

I felt ashamed of how I reacted to Sorayah earlier on, I must've looked like a terrible mother and I'm pretty sure that I wouldn't be hearing from Roman any time soon.

Deep in thought, I ended up taking a seat on my front step, not quite ready to go in yet because . . . What would I say?

How would I look Sorayah in her eyes after what I did? I was wrong.

We never had a confrontation. . . Altercation whatever you wanna call it like that. I've never had to raise my voice in anger, never had to raise my hand.

Would she look at me different?