Page 15 of Paddy

His door was open, so my heart hurt a little bit witnessing Elijah playing in his room by himself. He looked so sad and lonely, and while this neighborhood suited our needs best, it was hard for him to make friends since there weren’t many Black kids in Back Bay.

Elijah’s face lit up when he saw me, as I kicked off my heels and bent down to hug him at his height. This little boy didn't care what I gave him, how much weight I gained or how much money I made. He was just grateful when I was here.

“Mommy! How was Chicago?”

“It was cold,” I overemphasized, gesturing with a burring sound. “But I brought you something,” I said, reaching into my pocket for the Chicago keychain I got him. At his age, he was too young to go on the road with me, so I made sure to always bring something back from the cities I played until he was old enough and we could revisit them together.

“How has school been?” Suddenly his demeanor went from optimistic to monotone.

“It's been okay.”

“Just okay?”

“I don't really like my new school that much,” he admitted, the once-happy-to-see-me kid withdrawing into an isolated shell.

“Is there a reason why?” I asked, hoping he would be honest with me. He just shook his cherub face and assured me that he hadn't made any friends and that he wished he could go back to his old school.

His old school had been a public one, but Vernon wanted Elijah to get a good education so he could attend college one day. Show business paid our bills, but Vernon didn't want to chance his future on talent, so he wanted him in the books so he could make something of himself.

Vernon didn't say it, but sometimes what Iheardwhen he was so adamant on him getting an education was “so you don't need a nagging woman to build you.”

But I suspect it was my insecurity thinking that. Before I missed the opportunity to, I decided to ease the thought of Mr. Sullivan to Elijah.

“Hey, Elijah, you know how we're always talking about having someone around when me and daddy are working?”

“Maybe?” he said, assessing to see where I was going with the shift in conversation.

“Well, I wanted you to meet someone. But if you don't like them, or you prefer me or your father, you can be honest. I would respect your opinion,” I reassured. Mr. Sullivan strut into the room, wearing his suit jacket over his forearm as he laid it on the floor and bent down to shake Elijah's hand.

“I hear you're Elijah. Your parents wanted me to meet you because there's a chance we might be spending time together.”Mr. Sullivan looked to his dresser and pointed to his signed baseball. “You like baseball?”

“Ilovebaseball,” Elijah said a little bit too excited.

“What's your favorite team?”

Despite his hesitation, Elijah eventually answered, “The Red Sox.”

“See, I can't trust a man who doesn't answer with the Red Sox.” Mr. Sullivan’s demeanor went from someone stern to one of shared camaraderie.

“Are you even from Boston if your loyalty isn't to the Red Sox. Who's your favorite player?”

“Babe Ruth.”

“Babe Ruth? See, I'm more of a Joe Cronin man myself. But that was only after Ruth betrayed and cursed us all by going over to the fu—the Yankees,” Mr. Sullivan stopped himself from swearing.

Sports weren’t my expertise. The way reading music confused the average person, talking about baseball was like a foreign language to me. Even Vernon wasn’t much a sports fan, but since they were both male, I just figured he’d eventually take in an interest in it for his son.

Watching Mr. Sullivan and Elijah talk about their favorite plays, favorite home runs, whether they’d ever sat at a game live, I was just in awe. Elijah never spokethismuch to strangers. It was like Elijah came alive in the conversation. The only shitty thing about it was, Mr. Sullivan was likely going to throw it in my face.

“Elijah, I was going to start dinner soon, but me and Mr. Sullivan need to discuss something. When I come back, I’d like to hear more about school.”

“Okay,” Elijah replied disappointed.

“Hopefully this isn’t the last time I see you kid. I look forward to talking more about baseball.”

“Really?” Elijah squealed, as Mr. Sullivan held his hand out for him to receive a high five. Elijah’s face lit up at the idea of having someone to talk to. Now I actuallyhaveto hire him.

“I'll be back, honey,” I said with a kiss to his forehead as I excused the both of us out the room. Making sure we were a respectable distance so Elijah couldn’t hear what we discussed, I brought Mr. Sullivan to my play room, as Mr. Sullivan looked around the room in wonder or awe, I couldn’t tell which one.

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