Page 32 of Promised Summer
Karla hadn’t been around other kids very much since the accident, so I didn’t know how they would react to her lack of words. The little girl giggled too, then held out her doll. “Wanna play?”
Karla looked up at me, eyes sparkling. I nodded, told her to have fun, then watched as they ran to the middle of the living room to play, Lily following slowly to nap by their sides.
“Thanks for that, Jada,” Jones said and pulled his cousin in for a hug.
“Oh, trust me, I should be thanking you for finally getting that girl off my back. Imani’s been bouncing off the walls ever since she heard there’s gonna be a little girl her age coming. All the other kids are either older than her or literal babies,” Jada said with a laugh. Then she turned to me and added, “Damn, boy. You grew up mighty fine.”
“Jada,” Jones said in a warning tone.
“What? I’m just sayin’!” She laughed and pulled me into a hug. “It’s good to see you back in the family again, Ryan.”
Her words surprised me because they weren’t accusatory or blaming. They were a simple welcome back to someone who’d lost their way for a while.
“Thanks, Jada. I’m glad to be back,” I told her honestly and returned the hug.
After chatting for a bit, her husband came to find her about their youngest, who was crying for his mama. “Not one moment of peace and quiet,” Jada said with a shake of her head, but her laugh and the loving eyes turned toward her son told me she didn’t mind one bit.
“C’mon, let’s go get some food out back,” Jones said and snaked his arm around my waist.
“But Karla…”
I looked back to where she was immersed in make-believe with Imani. Some other older kids had joined them too, and instead of being afraid like I’d worried she’d be, she looked like she was genuinely having fun and had completely forgotten about her daddy.
“I’ll watch her, honey. Go eat and mingle,” my mom called from her seat. Her eyes slid down to where Jones’ hand rested on my hipbone, and I knew we had to get out of there before she got any funny ideas.
I pulled Jones through the sliding door to make our escape. The backyard was loud with the sounds of the sizzling grill and conversation. What felt like half the town was there.
Jones’ dad was manning the grill while chatting with some familiar faces. Jones’ mom sat on a lounge chair, but she shot up when she saw us and beelined our way.
“My, my, Ryan Malcolm Edgson. As I live and breathe!” Mama Denn pulled me into a crushing hug,still as vibrant as I remembered. “It’s so good to see you again, sweetie.”
Before I could even reply, she turned to Jones and cried out, “And you! My miracle baby! All grown up!”
She pinched Jones’ chin, which had him sounding muffled as he asked, “Mama, are you drunk?”
“Not drunk enough to forget the day you came into this world! You and I both would have perished if not for Doctor Jones!” Mama Denn said dramatically.
“Dear god. Not this again,” Jones muttered and tried to extract himself from his mother’s clutches, but she held on tight as she continued her story of Jones’ difficult birth.
A crowd gathered around her and listened intently as she recounted the entire experience. Jones shot me pleading eyes that asked to be saved, but I knew better than to interrupt Mama Denn.
I stood with the crowd, listening to her even though I’d heard the story so many times as a kid, I could probably recite it word for word by now.
Mama Denn got to the part where they all thought she was going to lose the baby, but then a miracle doctor swooped in and saved them both. Mama Denn was so grateful, she decided to name their baby after her.
Papa Denn once told me in secret that the real situation wasn’t as dramatic as his wife made it out to be, but he wasn’t going to stop her from having fun.
Jones managed to free himself from his mother’s clutches and returned to my side. “She never mentionsthat she decided to name me after the doctor’ssurname,” he muttered. “But just because it started with a ‘J’ and matched all the other kids in my generation, she thought it was perfect.”
“Did you just roll your eyes at me, boy?” Mama Denn’s laser-eyed focus shot our way. Her laughter and easy-goingdemeanor instantly went hard like a Drill Sergeant’s.
“No, ma’am!” Jones squeaked, his back straighter.
I held in my laughter only until Mama Denn went back to addressing her court with a different story, and then it was a free-for-all.
“It’s not funny,” Jones gritted out, but he gently pulled me against his chest and rested his hands on my stomach.
“At least they didn’t saddle you with ‘Malcolm’ as your middle name. I’ve heard enough ‘Malcolm in the Middle’ jokes to last me a lifetime,” I muttered back.
