Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
“Yeah, but she doesn’t have her mom,” I remind him, and his mouth forms a hard line. “I know,” I continue gently, “that you believe that Zuri is better off without Sharon around, and you could be right about that in some ways, but that doesn’t mean she might not feel like she’s missing out, just like you missed out on time with your dad.”
“Whoa.” Javion shakes his head. “That’s totally different. Sharon is still alive, and the only reason she’s not around is because of her own selfish decisions.”
“Of course. You’re right,” I mumble with a pit in my stomach. “I just mean that I’m not a replacement for her mom.”
“You can’t replace something that was never there, Nalia. Yes, Sharon is her mother, but that doesn’t mean that she is her mom. Those are two totally different things. You know that better than any of us since you got a mother, a good one.”
I do. I have the best mother in the world and the best parents in the world, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything. But that doesn’t mean that there weren’t times in my life where I wondered if I was missing out on something, even if that was some fake reality I had made up in my head. And that is something that most people, including my brother, who was taken from the same situation as I was and grew up just like I did, do not understand. Most people don’t understand. Heck, there are times that I still don’t completely get why I was so set on having a relationship with Sharon.
“Do you even know why she calls you Namalama?” Javion asks.
“What?”
“The nickname Zuri gave you when she was little, do you know why she started calling you that?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “She couldn’t say my name.”
“No, Nalia, it’s because she would yell that she wanted her mom anytime you weren’t around, and Sharon would get pissed because she knew that Zuri was calling you mom and that she wanted you.”
“What?” My stomach bottoms out.
“It was a whole thing, but Zuri’s always been smart, so she came up with Namalama knowing that Sharon wouldn’t get that she was still calling you mom but doing it in a way that wouldn’t get her in trouble.”
Oh my god.
“I…”
“You’re her safe place, you’ve always been that.”
“Namalama,” Zuri calls out, making me jump, and I quickly wipe at my eyes with the sleeve of my sweater.
“Hey.” I look to where she is standing in the door frame of my bedroom.
“My teeth are brushed,” she says, scanning my face, and I hope she can’t tell that I was on the verge of crying.
“I’ll be there in just a second.” I force a smile, and she nods before turning and walking away.
“Okay.” I focus back on Samson and Javion. “I’m going to get her tucked in, but we’ll call you both soon.”
“Sure,” Javion says.
“Yeah, hug her for me,” Samson says.
“Hug her for me too,” Javion says, and I nod then tell them both goodnight and hang up. Leaving my cell behind, I get out of bed and pad down the hall to Zuri’s room and step through the door. With only the glow of the night light that illuminates the celling like the cosmos, I can barely make out her shadowy form tucked under her covers.
“Your brothers said to give you hugs.” I take a seat on the edge of her mattress and rest my hand against the side of her face.
“I miss them.”
“I know you do. Hopefully, they’ll be able to come visit soon.”
“I hope so.” She yawns.
“Are you excited about your first soccer practice after school tomorrow?”
“A little, I wonder if anyone I know will be there.”
“Probably.” I smooth my hand down her cheek, and her eyes droop.
“Can we go to Cooper’s game Saturday?”
“I’m not sure, honey. I promised grand… I mean, Sophie and Nico, that we’d get together this weekend.”
“You can call them my grandma and grandpa.”
“I…”
“They said I could make up a name for them like Cooper has for his Gigi and Pops.” She cuts me off then mumbles, “But I can’t think of anything else to call them.”
“I think they would love it if you called them grandma and grandpa.”
“I never had a grandma or grandpa.” Oh god, I’m going to cry.
“You do now.”
“Yeah,” she agrees, sounding like she’s already half asleep.
“I’ll see you in the morning.” I lean down and kiss the top of her head, and she doesn’t move. Getting off the bed, I tuck the blanket up around her shoulders, then lean over to turn on the white noise machine before I start for the door.
“Namalama.”
“Yeah?” I turn towards her with my hand on the door handle.
“I love you.”
“Love you, too,” I whisper through the ache in the back of my throat.
Dragging my eyes off her, I close the door and walk down the hall to the kitchen. After pouring myself a glass of water, I lean back against the counter and stare at the fridge that is covered with photos, magnets from places I’ve visited, some with Zuri, pieces of her art that are all bright and colorful, the A she got on her last spelling test, and our calendar with lots of plans written into the boxes.