Page 130 of Invisible Bars
Mama Rose raised a brow and pursed her lips. “Mm-hmm. That bad, huh?”
I grabbed my tea and took a long sip, like it could wash down the headache she gave me.
“Still actin’ like she’s the CEO of Earth and everybody else is just interns. I had an interview earlier, and some words got passed after I told her I hired a new publicist.”
“Whew! If I could’ve been a fly on the wall forthatconversation. I know she threw a fit.”
“She did. Asked me, “Well, who’s gonna dress you?” Like I been showing up to important events in trash bags.”
Mama Rose laughed. “Lord, when will that mama of yours realize you’re not a little boy she can iron socks for anymore? She still thinks you’re ten with ash on your knees and mismatched socks.”
“Right. But to be fair… shedogot style.”
“Your mama always had style. But now she gotselective amnesia.Forgot how she used to run around in them thick-ass bamboo earrings with a diaper bag full of rent notices.”
“She thinks money erased all that.”
“Money doesn’t erase anything; it just buys prettier lies,” Mama Rose pointed out. “But enough about her. How areyou?” she asked, and that time her tone dropped that playful edge. She was serious now.
I paused, swirling the last of my tea. “I’m good,” I replied with a shrug.
Grandma tilted her head slowly, eyes narrowing like she was reading every crack in my soul.
“Boy, don’t sit here and lie to me like I ain’t the one who potty-trained you and prayed over you in the same breath. Iknowwhen something is off. It’s written all over your face!”
I let out a low chuckle, but it didn’t last long.
I pushed my plate to the side, rubbed the back of my neck, then looked at her and told her everything, from the murder Naji saw, to the kidnapping, the rushed marriage, her condition, hertics, the way she barely looked at me at first, the fear in her eyes when she first arrive, and how I told myself it was for protection—but somewhere along the way, it started to feel like something else… something heavier.
I talked, and Mama Rose listened; never interrupted.
When I finished, all she could do was shake her head real slow, lips pursed in that disappointed way that made me feel like a little boy again—the same boy who once broke her favorite glass fruit bowl trying to juggle pears like a fool.
Mama Rose leaned back and wiped her hands on her apron like she was wiping off the weight of the whole conversation.
Then she let out a long, exasperated, “Mmm-mmm-mmm. Lord have mercy,” she added. “So let me get this straight—you kidnapped that poor baby, married her like that, and now she’s living up in your house scared half to death? Ticcin’ and twitching like her nervous system done walked through a minefield barefoot. And she used to be on magazine covers, you say? Glamorous, strutting across stages, doing interviews? Now she’s crying in your guest room, probably talking to the Lord through the vents ‘cause she don’t trust you enough to pray out loud?”
I didn’t say a word.
“Grandson, that girl doesn’t need a mansion and fancy sheets,” she went on. “She needs peace… peace and honesty. And based on what you just told me, she ain't had either since the day she met you. That girl lost her freedom the day she saw something she wasn’t supposed to, and instead of making her feel like she gained a husband, you made her feel like she gained a warden. That isn’t love or protection, Imanio; that’s fear with a gold band around it.
I bet that poor girl doesn’t even get a good night’s rest. She probably flinches when you walk in the room. And not ‘cause you’re a bad man, but because you’re so busy trying to protecther—or yourself—that you forgot to see her. Imanio, sometimes protecting somebody doesn’t mean keeping them locked up close; it means making sure they feeltrulysafe. There's a difference. Hmph. I love you, grandson, but you sound more like her storm than her shelter.”
That hit me in the chest harder than I expected.
“Some days I wonder if I made the right decision. Like, if marrying her, hell,kidnappingher, was the best thing to do. I really didn’t take out the time to think how it would not only affect her, but me. Like, can I really handle her condition? And what about my career? Not so much my image. But you get what I’m saying.”
“I do. But she’s not a problem to manage, Imanio; she’s a person… a delicate one at that. And I’m not talking about her disorder; I’m talking about her soul. The girl is in a situation she didn’t ask to be in. So before you go talking about your career or your image, maybe think about the fact thatyouchoseher.Youkidnappedher. It wasyourdecision for you two to get married.That wasn’t something that justhappened.Youorchestrated it.Youmade a move—one that changed her whole damn life. The child was probably already going through enough, just trying to stay out the public eye and hold herself together. She might’ve even had alittlepeace before you came along. But now?”
She shook her head.
“Now you done dragged her into a life full of cameras, critics, and chaos. And baby? That kind of noise? That ain’t just stressful; it’s the very thing that pokes at her condition in theworstway.”
Mama Rose pointed her fork at me.
“And now…everythingyou do, everything you say, everything youdon’tsay matters ten times more than it ever did. She’s scared, Imanio. She’s unsure. And if you ever—ever—makethat baby feel like she’s a mistake or a burden…” she scoffed “…then you ain’t the man I raised.”
She let that sit for a second, then continued.
