A Mother's Bond

49

The door opened, and I turned around, expecting to see Mama or maybe Solo, but it was Jay. He looked me over, a concerned look on his face.

"You looked a little freaked out down there, so I came to check up on you. You good?" He asked, closing the door behind him.

I struggled to get air to speak. He noticed my alarm and rushed over, gently guiding me to the bed. He sat me down on the edge and knelt in front of me, his hands cupping my face.

"Hey, look at me. You're having a panic attack, do you understand?" Jay told me. He reached over and grabbed a picture frame. "I want you to describe this picture in as much detail as possible."

I ignored him, gesturing to the medicine cabinet. "Pills."

Jay shook his head. "No, no pills. You don't need them. Describe the picture to me."

I finally looked at the picture he was holding. It was a picture of Solange and I when we were kids.

"It's–It's Solo and I."

Jay nodded. "Good, take your time. Tell me more."

I blinked a few times, looking at the picture. "I was ten. She was five. We're in our backyard. I'm hugging her. We're both smiling. I'm wearing a blue dress." I felt my breathing returning to normal. "My dress has a floral pattern. Hers is the same, except in pink."

Jay nodded, encouragingly. "Good, that's really good, Bey. What else?"

I took another deep breath, focusing on the background. "The sky is blue, no clouds in sight. The grass is green. Neatly cut. There's a tree that's slightly out of frame."

He nodded again. "Okay, do you feel better?"

I closed my eyes and nodded. "Yeah, thank you."

I didn't need to open my eyes to know he was studying me. I felt his hands move down, rubbing circles on my forearm. My face scrunched up as I tried not to cry.

"What's going on?" Jay asked. "Downstairs you...I don't know. You had this look on your face, and then you run up here to have a panic attack. I just don't understand."

An image of Sarayah and Solo flashed in my head. That was the third time I'd seen Sarayah hug Solo like that. When she first came home. When we went to Houston. And now. She had never–not once–hugged me like that. Like she needed me. Like she loved me. And for some reason, that hurt. It was so embarrassing. Sarayah had left me, destroyed me, and still a big part of me craved her affection. How was I supposed to come to terms with that? How was I supposed to love someone who time and time again showed me she didn't love me?

I shook my head, and Jay sighed. "Bey."

I opened my eyes to his dark brown ones. He reached up and wiped my tears away. I leaned into his touch, staying silent for a moment.

"What did I do wrong?" I asked, my mind whirling.

Jay scrunched his eyebrows together, trying to piece together my train of thought. "Uh–I'm sorry. I don't know what you mean," he admitted.

I stared at him, unsure of what I'd expected. I moved my face away from the warmth of his palm. He tried to pull me back, but I just pushed his hand away.

"Just go," I muttered, looking away.

"Bey, come on–"

"Get out!" I yelled, standing up.

Jay stared up at me for a second before he stood up, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Maybe I've lost the privilege of being your person, but you'll always be my best friend. So, if you want to talk, I'm down the hall."