A Mother's Bond

26

Beyoncé July 27, 2016
We rode in silence. Everyone was lost in their own thoughts. I glanced back at Sarayah, who was staring dejectedly out her window. I didn't know what Solange had said to Sarayah, but I could tell it had really gotten to her. Good. Maybe she would finally be ready to listen to me. When we pulled up to the house, everyone jumped out of the jeep, desperate to get away from the tense atmosphere. I grabbed Sarayah's arm as she passed me.

"Not you." I said, then turned to Solange. "Can I get your keys?"

She looked at me curiously, before shrugging and tossing me her keys. I slid over to the driver's side and motioned for Sarayah to take the front seat. She gazed longingly at the front door as if deciding whether to make a break for it. Thankfully, she decided against it and sat next to me. I waited for her to buckle her seatbelt before pulling out of the driveway. We didn't speak. We didn't look at each other. We just drove.

20 minutes later, I pulled onto a dirt path. It was barely visible from the road, hidden by trees. Sarayah sat up straight, suddenly alert. I watched her, wondering what she was thinking. She looked nervous. She probably thought I was driving her here to ditch her. I sighed. My own daughter thought I was going to abandon her in the middle of nowhere; what did that say about our relationship?

I parked the car and hopped out, taking the keys with me. She watched me, hesitant to get out of the car. I kept walking, knowing she would follow. She didn't exactly have a lot of options. I pushed aside a few branches and stepped into a beautiful clearing surrounded by trees. I hadn't been there in years, but it hadn't changed a bit.

I walked to the center and stood there with my arms outstretched. I closed my eyes, letting the breeze float through my curly blond hair. Before long I felt Sarayah standing beside me. I smiled. I knew she'd come. I sat down, pulling my knees in to rest beneath my chin.

"I used to come here when I was a kid. My dad would pack up the car, and we'd have a day-long picnic. It felt good to get away. To be free. As I got older, the picnics became less frequent and more meaningful. You see, since my dad saw potential in me, he focused more on being a manager than a father. So, I cherished every fatherly moment he gave me."

I snuck a quick look at Sarayah. She was standing, motionless, staring off into the distance. A few strands of her curly brown hair had escaped her loose ponytail and were blowing around her face. Her face was a mask of indifference, but her eyes gave her away. I knew those eyes. She was pretending not to listen, but I knew she was. So, I continued.

"As I built up my career, things at home fell apart. My dad was always working, and when he wasn't, he was fighting with my mom. I started coming here alone to escape. I guess a part of me was trying to recapture my childhood, but it doesn't really work that way. I eventually stopped coming here altogether. It was too depressing. It just reminded me how fucked up things were at home."

Sarayah slowly lowered herself to the ground, crossing her legs beside me. She still refused to look at me. That was fine, as long as she was listening.

"When I was pregnant with you, I decided I would start coming back here. I wanted you to have the childhood I didn't. I'd pack up the car and drive here, just like my dad used to, except now I had my own family, my own daughter. Sometimes Solo would come, but usually it was just me and you. We were our own little team; we didn't need anybody else. I knew that whatever happened with Jay–or anyone really–I would always have you. My own flesh and blood. My child...I would always have my child."

I moved my hair out of my face, snapping out of my reverie.

"And then I didn't," I whispered, a tear sliding down my cheek.