Page 100 of Taming a Menace
“I’m never going to get tired of you, Moonie. I’m never going to let you down. You’re everything to me. Every single thing I’ve ever wanted or searched for, I feel like I found it as soon as I met you. Hell, you have things I wasn’t even looking for. Who ever knew that I would fall in love with hearing someone laugh? Who loves to watch somebody eat or even think? I love everything about you. You make me feel like I might just be as crazy as people say I am,” I confessed.
“You’re not crazy, Keywan. You’re passionate, and I love that about you.”
“I didn’t tell you, but I have an appointment with a new therapist,” I mentioned.
“When is it? Why didn’t you tell me?” she quizzed.
A low chuckle passed my lips before I responded. “Because I feel like I’m cheating on you. It’s tomorrow,” I said.
“It’s not cheating, Key. It’s investing in yourself. We both knew that I couldn’t effectively give you the treatment that you needed, not that I didn’t try.”
“Because you love daddy, and you didn’t want him to go back to jail.”
She smiled and rolled her eyes. Why did that shit make me weak every single time? It was crazy.
“Come on. I don’t want to be late for church. Your mom probably already thinks I’m a jezebel,” Iyla said before strutting out of the room.
“Call my phone, baby. I don’t know what I did with it after you called to say you were here.”
Once my baby made it home to me, I didn’t care about anything else. I remember answering to tell her I was coming to the door and that was it.
“Got it!” Iyla yelled from somewhere in the house.
I walked out of my bedroom and found her standing in the living room holding my phone. Her face was scrunched in confusion as she looked at my phone and then to me.
“Why do you have my number saved under Future?” she quizzed.
“Because you’re the first person who made me consider having one.”
“A future?”
I raised my shoulders. What I said was clear enough, but I could answer her.
“Yeah. Come on. I don’t want to hear your mouth if we’re late.”
“So you’re the psychiatrist?”
That was the first direct question my mom asked Iyla after church. You never knew how either of my girls were coming so I braced for impact. We were sitting at the table at my mom’s house eating the meal she prepared. I loved my own cooking, but it felt good to eat somebody else’s food sometimes.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m the therapist. It’s nice to finally meet you,” Iyla answered.
“You know everything that’s wrong with my baby, and you’re still with him?” my mom asked.
“It appears that way.”
“And you saw all of his files and paperwork? You’ve been talking to him about what’s going on in that big head of his?”
“Damn, Mama. What you trying to say?” I interrupted her interrogation.
“I’m trying to ask my daughter-in-law a few questions to make sure she knows what she’s getting into. If this saint of awoman knows you’re a stone-cold fool and tolerates you anyway, then I like her already. You’re not here under any kind of duress are you, baby?”
Iyla laughed. “No, ma’am.”
“I got to get you on the prayer list, honey. What’s your name again? Ida?”
“Iyla.”
My mom turned her attention to me. I knew I was in for it when she started wagging her finger before she even spoke.
