Page 302 of Invisible Bars
The sound of tires crunching up the gravel drive pulled my attention toward the road. I turned and saw them: my mom, dad, and Chiamaka.
Chiamaka still lived with us, though she’d spent the weekend with them. She’d enrolled in school recently and even had aboyfriend. Poor guy. Imanio had drilled him with a hundred questions like he was applying for a top-secret clearance and sized him up like he was trying to pass through airport security with bricks in his bag. By the time he was done, the boy looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole. I couldn’t even blame him—Imanio had a way of scaring people without lifting a finger. Still, the fact that he stuck around after that? Honestly, I respected him for surviving the Kors interrogation.
My parents got out of the car slowly—hesitant. In contrast, Chiamaka rushed straight toward us, eyes bright, arms already reaching.
She wrapped me in a hug and rubbed my belly gently, grinning.
“I can’t wait to see my nephew! He’s gonna be spoiled rotten, you know that, right?”
“I knowwwwww!” I pouted, rubbing my belly.
I smiled, glancing at Imanio, who was now standing with his arms folded, watching everything play out.
“You ready for this?” he asked me quietly.
“Might as well be,” I replied, exhaling.
My mom’s eyes were already glassy as she took in the house—theporch, the yard. She reached for my dad’s hand like she needed grounding.
I stepped down from the porch and handed them the keys.
Chiamaka caught my eye, her expression soft but weighted. Her look said, “You gotta talk to them. They’ve been waiting on it.”
And she was right.
Had I not had that dream—thatdream about Nana Li—I probably would've just handed them the keys, nodded, and walked away. But I was ready now.
“We need to talk,” I took the initiative to say, voice calm but firm.
“Weagree,” my dad replied.
The three of us stepped away from the house together, slipping behind the old Magnolia tree Nana Li once planted with her bare hands. It stood tall now, full and blooming, like it had been waiting for this moment just as long as we had.
For a moment, no one spoke. My parents looked at me like they hadn’t seen me in years—which,emotionally, they hadn’t.
My mom’s eyes pinned me in place.
“Naji, why didn’t you tell me when your grandmother passed? I had to hear it through a friend, Naji.”
My chest tightened. I wanted to look away, but I made myself hold her stare.
“The truth is… I didn’t call b-because we hadn’t spoken in so long. We were already estranged, and the thought of dialing your number after all that time—it felt impossible. I’m not p-p-proud of it… and I’m sure Nana Li wouldn’t have been either, but that’s the truth.”
My voice cracked as the question tumbled out before I could stop it.
“But… would you have even came?”
My mom’s eyes glistened. “Of course. Maybe then we’d be in a much better place today.”
Silence swallowed the air.
“You didn’t have to do this, Naji… not after everything,” my mom said, redirecting the conversation.
My dad cleared his throat, voice tight with emotion.
“You gave us more grace than we ever gave you. I’m not sure we can repay that.”
He stood rigid, the weight of regret heavy on his shoulders, his hands clasped nervously in front of him.
