Roman

21 - Visiting my grandparens

Roman

“My favorite grandson!” I roll my eyes at my grandmother, Emelda. She says that about all her grandsons. She’s only got three biologicals, me, Hawk, and Wrench, though Stryker is her grandson because Taylor and Jack took him in, and they treat him no differently than the rest of us. She also has her little great-grandsons Mark, Gabriel, DJ, and Kaleb.

My grandparents have four children, two of each. However, only their daughters had sons. My mother has one, and Taylor has two. Taylor was more like a big sister to me growing up because there were just five years between us. My grandparents had her later in life – well, compared to having their other children while they were still in their teens, Taylor came along in their thirties – but she was very much wanted.

“You say that to everyone, Grams.”

“Yes, but with you, I mean it.” She winks, and I roll my eyes again as she kisses my cheek. She says that too.

“I want you to meet my daughter, finally.”

“I am so excited!” She squeals while ushering me into the den where my eighty-year-old grandfather is waiting for us.

I shake his hand and place Romany’s chair on the coffee table so they can see her. She’s wide awake and looking at them. My little girl is such an inquisitive child.

“She’s so beautiful, Roman! She’s your image, even has your coloring.”

She does. As the days go on, Romany’s tanned skin is starting to show.

My Jamaican-born grandfather leans toward the baby and makes insane baby noises to her while pressing on her cheek with his finger. She smiles at him, and I see the love in his eyes for her.

He’s a good man, Leroy.

My grandparents met at a time when it was social suicide to be with a man of color. My grandmother loved Leroy instantly and met up with him in secret whenever she could. They had a crazy love affair over one summertime. Then, her parents found out and sent her away.

She was sixteen and in love with a black man whom she thought she’d never see again. It turns out that Leroy got Emelda pregnant. Her father was outraged, not only because the baby would be biracial, but because she was sixteen and underage. He planned to have the baby adopted, and my grandfather charged with r**e. The only way he wouldn’t go ahead with his threat to have my grandfather prosecuted was if he left and never came back.

My grandmother gave birth to her son, Tyrone, and refused to sign him over; she wouldn’t let him go, no matter what her father threatened her with. Of course, Emelda’s father was furious and told her she had to put the baby down sometime. The baby would be gone when she did, and she’d never find him.

Emelda didn’t wait around for her father to take her child; she packed a bag and left in the middle of the night. She went in search of her love and found him in Bardsville.

They were married three days later after lying about my grandmother’s age. Eighteen months later, they were parents again to another son, Nick. They both worked hard. My grandfather was a laborer, and my grandmother was a housewife who also cleaned for other families in order to support her family.

Emelda’s family never came looking for her, and she never went home to them. Those people know nothing of the family their daughter created, and there are a lot of us now. I often wondered if she ever missed them, but she’s never shown any signs of it. I do remember once hearing my grandmother telling my mother how all the family she ever needed was the one she made with Leroy.

A year after Nick was born, my mother came along. She was beautiful and green-eyed like her mother, light-skinned, and had loose hair; my grandfather adored her. Of course, Taylor was born fifteen years later, and their family was complete.

The struggles Leroy and Emelda faced were then passed onto their children. Tyrone married a mixed-race woman, which seemed normal in society’s eyes, both of them being of color. Nick married a woman with a mixed-race mother. Some would sneer at them because his wife’s skin was white. Then my mother married a white man, and even though he was of standing and had a good job, it seemed to make the fact she wasn’t white wrong in the eyes of those he grew up around. It didn’t matter that my mother had fairer skin than her siblings, green eyes, and loose curly hair, it’s easy to see she’s of black heritage, and my father still got shi.t from his friends.

My dad once told me how one or two friends tried to convince him how strange it was that he’d fallen for this woman. How odd it was that her brothers had darker skin, that her younger sister had darker skin. He then told me how he ended up beating the shi.t out of one of his so-called friends for suggesting he end things with this colored woman. Dad told that person that nothing would stop him from marrying Leona. My father, Robert, was in love, and nothing in the world would keep him from his girl. Dad’s parents had no problem with my mother; in fact, they loved her like their own. My grandfather was proud of my father for standing up for the woman who held his heart. Mom and Dad have been married for forty-one years, and they’re still going strong.

However, I think Taylor and BlackJack got it worse than most. BlackJack’s parents were the most racist pieces of shi.t I have ever had the misfortune to meet, and I did meet them when I was eleven. Horrible fucker.s. They thought I was Taylor’s brother and looked at me like I was an abomination. Taylor is obviously darker skinned than I am, but I’m not exactly white. Those pricks looked at the two of us like we were filth on their shoes, and I hated them on sight.

They’d come to my grandparent’s house to demand they keep their monkey daughter away from their son. Taylor was sixteen, the same age as my grandmother when she got all the shi.t from her family. Taylor was a sensitive soul who would never have hurt a fly. But those people said such disgusting things to my aunt.

I was just a kid, but I still remember how much it hurt my heart to see Taylor crying. It might sound odd, but my aunt felt like my big sister, she was definitely my best friend, and I hated that she was hurting. My grandmother was yelling at BlackJack’s mother, and then my grandfather punched BlackJack’s father out for daring to say anything about his little girl. Leroy got arrested, and my father got him off with the charges due to racism.

But Taylor was heartbroken, and she just wasn’t the same girl for a long time after that day. I tried so hard to cheer her up whenever I was around. I just wanted to see her smiling the way she used to when we hung out. Taylor would try so hard, but she’d cry and say, ‘I’m sorry, Tallon. I don’t mean to upset you.’ Because it did upset me. I would tell her it was okay, and then I’d hug her until her tears subsided.

Something happened in the months Taylor and BlackJack were apart. He joined the Snakes to be near his best friend, Shepard, who told him to grow a set, pick what he wanted more in life, take the girl, or don’t.

BlackJack told his father straight that he loved Taylor, couldn’t live without her, and that he never wanted to see his family again if they couldn’t accept his choice. They couldn’t, so he left.

That very day, BlackJack came by the house and sat with Leroy and told him how he couldn’t be without Taylor, that the color of Leroy’s skin didn’t bother him because he didn’t see color, he just saw people.

Leroy gave him a lecture about the importance of Taylor finishing her education so she could become a nurse. Taylor hadn’t long turned seventeen, and my grandparents wanted her to thrive in the life choices she’d made. That meant finishing her education the way her siblings had. BlackJack told Leroy that he wanted Taylor to be his wife, and he promised, on everything he held dear, that Taylor would be the nurse she wanted to be.

Leroy called Taylor downstairs. I was there, and I saw her eyes lock on BlackJack, the way the tears fell from her eyes as he got out of his seat. BlackJack was in full biker get-up, cut included. Taylor sobbed when BlackJack said, ‘I came for you, baby. I told you I would.’

She ran into his arms and held on for dear life as she sobbed. My grandmother cried, and my grandfather gave them his blessing. They married as soon as Taylor finished high school, and they’ve been happy ever since.

I come from a multicultural family, it’s all I know. However, I wonder sometimes how people can be so pathetic when it comes to the color of another’s skin. I know Hawk had to deal with it when it came to Brooke. Her father was a racist cunt too. But they came through it. I suppose, if you love someone enough, you can come through anything. I hope more than anything that I can come through this and have the woman I love at the end of it. I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t.

“Why isn’t her mother with you? I had hoped we would have met her by now.”

Everyone who doesn’t know what’s going on with me and Marley asks me this question. It’s starting to grate on me, but what can I do? I can’t have my family think poorly of Marley, no fuckin.g way.

“She’s not feeling so great, Pops. She wanted to come, but I didn’t think it was a good idea when she’s flued up.”

“Definitely not.” He laughs. “Me not as young as me used to be.” His Jamaican accent makes me laugh. He’s been in this country for over sixty years, and he still hasn’t lost it even a little bit. Although he does try to speak like us when we have visitors. Not that I believe he should change himself for anyone, but he thinks it’s only good manners to try.

“I’ll bring her next time, though.”

“It will be good to finally meet the woman who gave me this beautiful little great-granddaughter.”

I smile at my seventy-eight-year-old grandmother as she sits rocking my daughter in her arms. I still have memories of her doing that to Wrench when he was born, rocking him and telling him how special he was.

The trouble is the fucker has believed his whole life that he’s special thanks to Emelda. It makes me chuckle because she’s the same way with his son, Kaleb.

This proves my point that Wrench is her favorite grandson. Hawk and I aren’t jealous; there’s no need to be. Grams loves us all, and that’s all that matters.

My grandfather suddenly clasps my hand from his seat beside mine. I look at him curiously. His grip is still firm for a man of his age.

“I’m not gonna pretend to know what’s going on with you and Romany’s mother, Roman, but I know something is not right.”

The trouble with Leroy is that he reads right through every fucke.r he meets. It’s like he’s got fuckin.g voodoo powers or some shi.t like that.

“She will come back to you, Roman.”

“I never said she went anywhere.”

“Maybe not in the physical, maybe not here,” He points to his heart. “But in here,” Now his head. “She off someplace else. She is confused, boy. Don’t fear; she will come back to you, man, soon enough.”

I narrow my eyes, but he lets go of my hand and sits back in his chair with his eyes closed. This isn’t the first time he’s said something crazy like this. He told Hawk something similar about Brooke when she was gone. It turned out he was right about that, so maybe he’s right about this.

I don’t know, but I’m willing to wait however long it takes for Marley to come back to me. I’ll wait for fuckin.g ever if I have to.

“Are you stayin’ for dinner?”

“No, Grams. I need to get Romany back to her mother. I just wanted you to meet her already.”

She nods while looking down at Romany, who is fast asleep in her arms. “It will all be as God intended, Roman, you’ll see. Nothing will ever take this little one away from you.” I stiffen in my seat. I don’t want to talk about what she’s talking about!

Grams turns to look at me. “Don’t give me that angry look. It’s different this time, sweetheart. That’s all I’m saying.”

I have nothing to say to that. I won’t talk about it with my grandmother, not with anyone. I won’t live in the past. I know no one can take Romany from me; I’ll fuckin.g kill anyone who tries, especially that motherfuckin’ ex of Marley’s.

Marley thinks I’m stupid, but I’ve seen the cogs turning in her eyes. I know doctor dickhead has said something about taking Romany away with them; somewhere, I won’t find them. He doesn’t have a goddamn clue that I will always find Romany. If Marley wants to go with him, then she can go, but she’s not taking my daughter!

No, I’m not saying that because I know Marley won’t go without Romany. If she chooses that cunt, then I won’t stop her. I won’t take her back if he fuck.s off without her either; I ain’t nobody’s second choice.

But when it comes to Romany, I will fight to the death to keep her with me, no matter what the fuc.k I have to do. That baby is mine! I won’t lose another child. I can’t!