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Hold On Tight(29)

By:Abbi Glines


SIENNA

“What if I told you that Dewayne was your daddy’s older brother? Would you like having Dewayne as an uncle?”

Micah went very still in my arms, and his frown grew. This was not how I wanted to do this with him. I was hoping to watch Star Wars with him and have that as a happy distraction. But after our morning visitors I knew this had to be done now. I wanted him to have Tabby and Dave Falco in his life, and from what I had just seen, they did too. It was time Micah had grandparents to dote on him.

“Dewayne is my daddy’s brother? But . . . he didn’t tell me that.”

This was the tricky part. Micah was five, but our life had made him grow up fast. Emotionally, he was a lot older than he should’ve had to be.

“Dewayne didn’t know about you until the other day, when you thought he made me cry. I had thought he knew. I’d sent letters, but they never got them.”

“Who’s they?” Micah asked.

“Dewayne’s parents. Your daddy’s parents. Your grandparents.”

Micah’s eyes went wide with wonder. “Mama T and Dave are my grandparents?”

I nodded. “And they want to know you very much. They loved your daddy a whole bunch. And they want to know his son. That’s why they came over this morning. They’re very excited to know you’re their grandson.”

Micah’s eyes got bigger. “I have grandparents? I thought you said I didn’t.”

Sighing, I kissed his head. “I didn’t want you to think that your grandparents didn’t love you. I thought they were turning their backs on us since your daddy was gone. So I was protecting you.”

Micah was quiet for several minutes. I let him think about all this and didn’t speak. He fiddled with his thumbs as he studied his hands. Every once in a while he glanced back over his shoulder, out the window to the house across the street. I couldn’t imagine what was going on in his little head. Saving him from any more pain was my first concern.

“Do they have pictures of my daddy?” he asked. I’d only had a couple in my purse when I had been shipped off, and that was all Micah had seen of his father.

I nodded. “They have a lot. You will even see pictures of him when he was your age. You can see just how much you look like him.”

Micah fidgeted and looked out the window toward their house. “Can I go see the pictures and have some cookies?” he asked, turning back to me.

Tabby would probably never be without chocolate chip cookies again. “I am sure they are waiting anxiously for you to come over there. Do you want me to come too? Or would you like me to let you visit alone?”

Sending him over there alone terrified me. I wanted to hold his hand through this, but just like through everything else, Micah was a rock. He handled things with a strength that was unexpected from a five-year-old.

“I want you there. She’s makes really good cookies. You can eat some too.”

I wanted to let out a sigh of relief.

“Okay, then. Let me get dressed and brush my hair, and then we can walk over there. Why don’t you go get dressed too?” He was till wearing his Superman pajamas.

He nodded and hopped up, then ran off. This had been much easier than I’d anticipated. But then, he hadn’t had time for it to sink in yet.

I followed behind him and went to the bathroom. Before I did anything else, I stood there and looked at myself. I had always thought I was pretty. Guys seemed to like me. I wasn’t a raving beauty or anything, but my body wasn’t bad. My legs were long and I had C-cup boobs. My hair was red, but I had made my peace with that a long time ago, as well as the freckles on my nose. But knowing Dewayne had described me as average stung. No . . . it was a serious blow to my self-esteem. Maybe I had aged more than I realized. Maybe being a struggling single mom had put some wear and tear on me. I leaned toward the mirror and checked for wrinkles. I did see my freckles, but no wrinkles yet. I guess my nose was kind of stubby and my arms weren’t that toned. I didn’t have time for the gym. Any sign of a tan had faded.

I guess I was average. He hadn’t called me ugly, at least. I could live with average. Besides, I was Micah’s mom—who cared what a man thought of me? It wasn’t like I was looking to start dating. If that were the case, I might have spent a little more time than usual making myself look less worn out.

When I was finished brushing my teeth and brushing my hair, I wanted to slap myself for letting Dewayne’s opinion affect me. I was better than that. I was tougher than that. Being pretty wasn’t something I worried about normally. I went to my closet, pulled out a pair of shorts, and pulled them on, then grabbed a tank top. I would not think about my clothing choices. I was not going to dress nicer than this for a visit across the street. I intended to do some yard work today and have a picnic in the backyard with my son. No reason to dress up. I’d already spent more time on my face than was necessary for those activities.