Page 162 of Treason's Temptation
“So are you keeping it?” Sloane asked.
Time was dwindling, but I still wasn’t sure. Inez noticed and intervened.
“That’s a conversation between Tre and Navie.”
“Being a dad is optional, but a mother is mandatory. It’s her body, and she’s stuck with that baby regardless of what your son does or doesn’t do. Weren’t you a single mom?” Sloane asked.
“A single mom who raised a good man. A man who will always take care of his child,” There was a different bite to Inez’s words defending her son’s character. Maybe there was another side of her, too. One that explained her fucking Winston Calloway.
“We haven’t had time to discuss anything. I just got home.” I interjected before the conversation took a turn.
Thankfully, they both retreated, while Rayven sat with wide eyes, thankful it was me and not her. Inez left to check on the laundry, but we all knew she needed space from Sloane’s biased opinions.
“Why did you start with her?” I asked, shifting to Sloane.
“Now I have to bite my tongue for her and her son?”
“No for me! Goddamn, I just came home, that conversation could’ve waited.”
Rayven scooted in, roping her arm around my shoulder.
“I guess now would be a bad time to point out that you don’t have time,” Sloane pressed.
Rayven bulged her eyes, as if Sloane respected anybody’s needs but her own.
“I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
“With me. You don’t wanna talk about it with me,” she replied, filling in the imaginary blank.
“No, I don’t because I don’t need to hear how this baby will ruin my life.”
“There you go, putting words in my mouth. I never said that.”
“You might as well have!”
“I just want you to be sure, and if you do keep this baby, do it for you. Not for a man, because he could leave tomorrow, and it’s still your responsibility.”
“We know, you’ve been beating it in our heads forever. Couldn’t even get a baby doll for my birthday,” Rayven mumbled.
Where most kids played make-believe in peace, Sloane refused. She said it was just a trap to manipulate women into having kids for men who wouldn’t take care of them.
Our snickers paused Sloane’s tantrum long enough for her to ask Rayven, “You think you so damn funny?”
“I do actually. You’re being crazy, like the baby is your responsibility. Don’t worry, nobody’s asking you to babysit.”
“Absolutely not. I see how her kids turned out,” I chimed in
“She’d better hope you let her see the baby at all,” Rayven added.
“Alright, Eddie Murphy and Martin Lawrence,” Irritated, Sloane set her wine down, arms propped on her gapped legs, “What’s going on in your life so I can get on your ass?”
“That’s for my real mom to know and you to find out,” Rayven stuck out her tongue, resting her head on my shoulder.
Sloane wanted to blow, likely realizing the control she once yielded had lost its power. Inez’s footsteps saved us from a tongue-lashing, mumbling something inaudible that made us laugh harder. Treason returned, and Inez prepared dinner for us, giving Rayven a taste of normalcy. Sloane received better plans and finally left for the night after Inez cleaned the kitchen and did the same.
Treason was locked in his office on the phone with Fallon about something that couldn’t wait, leaving me quality time with Rayven’s feet kicked up in the guest room.
“Do you know why I chose neurosurgery?”
