Giselle "G" Rowe
Monday, November 14 | 12:08 p.m.
Little Tykes - Daycare
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My stomach is in my ass as I stare up at the red bricked building decorated with colorful stickers in the windows. Most of them are cartoonish depictions of animals, letters, sunshine, and rainbows - the complete opposite of how I'm feeling. My heart and my mind battled the entire drive here, hoping that once I reached the parking lot, I'd have a more decisive answer.
"Now what you in a rush for? What, you tryna meet your maker, darling? Or you running out of time, huh?"
It's been four weeks since I've argued with Gabriella. This is the longest that I've ever gone without seeing my nephew and I'm completely fed up. She doesn't have to talk to me, but Jamari deserves to know the rest of his family.
Am I being entitled? Probably. I mean, he's not my child. I have no actual rights to him and just a few months ago, I was feeling overwhelmed with having to pick up his parents' slack. Guilt weighs my heart down over the memories of every single negative thought ever crept into my mind.
How could I have been so ungrateful? I need Jamari just as much as he needs me.
Shit, maybe I need him more.
Because here I am, sitting outside of his daycare, contemplating going in to check him out without even knowing if I'm on his pickup list. I'm about to risk looking stupid and creepy just to hold my nephew again — just to see for myself if he looks alright. I can't go another day knowing that he's been around his father without checking on him.
Either way, I'm crossing a boundary because Gab doesn't want us around him too much and I didn't even ask for her permission to come here.
"God bless me. God help me, oh."
I cut the engine and unbuckle my seatbelt, opening the car door and stepping out before I can talk myself out of it. Pulling the drawstrings on my hoodie, I shield myself from the cold wind and my anxiety lessons a little. The less people that can see, the more protected I feel.
I swear, if Gabriella didn't add my name, our next fight will be worst than the last. I don't five a fuck if I didn't give birth to him. None of that ever mattered until she got back cool with Farad. He is always the root of her nonsensical behavior.
The building is slightly heated and the waiting room smells decently fresh — a mixture between cleaning products, Elmer's glue, and bread. I'm at least proud that my sister had enough brains to put him in a relatively nice daycare.
One point for Gab.
The lady at the front desk smiles politely with a phone pressed to her ear. Her hair is pinned in a tight updo and her deep purple nails compliment her dark brown skin. She briefly holds a plump finger up as she brings the conversation to a close, placing the yellow receiver back on the hook. "Hi there, suga. What can I do for ya?"
Help me kidnap a child.
"I..umm...I'm here to pick up my nephew." I force a chuckle and immediately cringe.
Giselle, be cool. Damn!
"Okay! Your name and the child's name, please?" Her hands hover over the keyboard as she eyes the desktop in front of her.
"Giselle Rowe. Jamari Daniels."
Any other time, the sound of typing is satisfying to me, but right now I'm shifting uncomfortably, watching as an employee rocks an infant to sleep through the large glass windows to my left.
"I'm sorry, I don't see your name, honey." Her perfectly manicured eyebrows pull together sympathetically and I stop breathing for a second. All the rage that I thought I would have is replaced by actual pain in my chest. I stare at the bright ceiling to keep the tears at bay.
Gabriella is really trying to write us off.
"Do you want to give Jabari's parents a call, sweet pea? Maybe they could come on down and check him out for you and add you to the list."
"His name is Jamari."
"Oh, shoot! Give me one second." She face palms, at her mistake and hurriedly retypes his name before breaking out into a genuine grin. "Ahh yes, Jamari Daniels. Head that way. It'll be the third door on the right."
"Thank you." I breathe, allowing my legs to carry me down the empty corridor before she can see the moisture in my eyes.
I peer through the slim window on the oak door and spot Jamari immediately. He's on his knees, shoving the designated blocks through a giant wooden cube. There's another child sitting beside him, doing the same thing with a matching toy.
Maybe my eyes are playing tricks on me, but he looks a little taller than I remember. Seeing him work independently around others makes me feel proud and sad all at the same time. Nephew is growing up. I gotta be around to see it.
Before I can even knock, the young caretaker rushes to let me in, grinning excitedly. The rubber bands on her braces are the same shade of baby blue, as the frilly scrunchy holding her ponytail. Miss Audrey's room is written on the board in bright green marker.
"Hi!" She chirps, pushing her glasses up her nose bridge. "Who are you here for?"
All of the children's heads snap towards me and Jamari's face lights up with recognition. He hops to his feet instantly, racing over. "Te-te!"
"Hey, pooh." I bend down and wrap my arms around his small body.
"Well, I guess that answers that, huh?" Audrey chuckles, walking over to a cubby and retrieving Jamari's things.
"Yes, thank you." I laugh, slinging his bag over my shoulder and we exit the classroom.
Okay, two points for Gab.
**********
Monday, November 14 | 6:23 p.m.
The Rowe Residence
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"Alright, let me do it. You just keep missing yo mouth and feeding my floor." My mama laughs, spooning a decent amount of mac and cheese into her grandson's awaiting mouth. He hums, setting down the nearly skinned chicken leg with a clap of his greasy hands.
My parents didn't ask too many questions about Jamari's reappearance. They only expressed gratitude and excitement, mirroring the two-year old. I feel happy, no doubt, but the looming threat of what will happen at Gabriella's arrival runs through my thoughts every other minute.
I sent her a text, notifying her of what I had done and she responded by calling me.
I declined it.
Petty or pussy? Probably both.
A bland text, stating that she'd be by to get him later on is our most recent bit of contact. I can't really gage her energy, but I know that she's pissed. Why wouldn't she be?
The truth is, confrontation unsettles my stomach, especially with the people that I love even when it needs to happen.
"All done." My dad sings, standing up and grabbing Jamari. He tickles him, making the child flail and laugh uncontrollably.
"Stop that!" My mother chastises, collecting their empty plates. "You gone make him have a stutter when he's older."
Black folks and their superstitions, boy I tell you.
"Alright, alright." My dad laughs heartily, rolling his eyes. "You ready to go take a bath, Mari?"
"Yes!"
My mom and I move through the kitchen together, putting away the leftovers, wiping down every visible surface, and loading the dishwasher before the thirty minute mark. By the time that we're done, Jamari is in his pj's half asleep as bedtime nursery rhymes play on the TV.
I pass the time by scrolling through social media, and when my nephew's breathing becomes heavy around an hour later, I relocate him to my bed.
Twisting the knob almost to the hottest setting, I step into the steamy shower, closing my eyes for a few seconds. I take my time, brushing my teeth and moisturizing my skin, hoping that the physical self-care routine seeps into my mind. Once I'm done, I choose to wear June's freshly washed oversized shirt. His scent is gone, but it's still a comfort for me.
The air outside of the bathroom is far more breathable and I greedily inhale it on my way to turn off the lights in the common area.
"Shit!" I jump, spotting Gabriella on the sofa, arms folded. "I didn't know you came in."
Her expression is blank as she eyes me and if I didn't know her better, I'd think she was indifferent about the entire situation. But I do know her, at least to some degree, and the emotion brewing behind her eyes gives her away.
Still, she remains quiet.
I sigh, plopping down on the sofa and running a hand down my face. The tension from this shit is exhausting. "Say whatchu gotta say, Gab."
"I just want to know why, Giselle." She shrugs harshly. "I thought I made myself clear the last that we spoke."
"You wanna know why I care about Jamari? You wanna know why I don't want you to isolate him from us? You want me to explain that again?"
"Don't you even — you don't care about him cause if you did, you wouldn't treat his mama like this." She sits up and her leg shakes as her anger rises.
"Treat you like what?" I scoff, throwing my head back. "Gabriella, I love you. We all do, but you don't treat us like you love us!"
"No, no, no, no." She stands, shoving her hands in her back pocket. "No."
"Yes."
"No!" She yells and the hallway light comes alive.
"What is all this fuss in here?" My father rushes into the living room with my mother in tow.
"I came here to get my baby, not listen to how much y'all hate me! I'm sick of it being Gabby against the world."
"Girl, what?" My mom wraps her robe tighter around her body. "Nobody hates you!"
Except Farad.
"You just act like that man is more important than life itself and he's not. I promise you that, baby." She takes a step towards her oldest daughter and Gab backs away, shaking her head.
"No, no, no, no."
"No what? Damn!" I stand up and it seems to piss her off even more.
"You don't understand! None of you do. Farad is the first man to love me for me, totally. He is the first person to make me actually feel beautiful."
"Have I not done my job as a father, Gabriella?"
"It's not the same! I mean romantic love. He is the father of my child and we — we have history. I don't know how to be without him." Gab's voice cracks and tears dampen her round cheeks. The mask is cracking and the turmoil inside of her is spilling out completely. The root of it all is what we've always known — Gabriella's self esteem is nonexistent and she is emotionally dependent on the worst nigga alive.
This is the first time that she's ever cut us off, so with the people who actually care about her out of the picture, it seems that Farad has done a lot more psychological damage than usual in a shorter amount of time. That explains the shaking and oh so obvious mental anguish that she's experiencing.
"Gab, we will help you, just as we've always done. But it's up to you to open your eyes and see it!" I plead, watching my mother embrace her. They sink to the carpet and Gabriella's body rocks with sobs. "Ain't nobody gone put up with you treating them any kind of way for Farad and I absolutely will always step up to be there for Jamari, whether you and I are cool or not. I'm sick of this! You should be sick of it too."
"Giselle." My dad's tone is firm, warning me to chill out, but I shake him off. I'm done babying this girl.
This grown ass lady as a matter of fact.
"Gab, I really need you to try this time. You gotta do this for yo son, man. You gotta do this for you."
"I— it's hard doin' anything for me. I love Farad more than I love myself." She barely manages to choke her words out and my mother grips her tighter, tears now threatening to fall from her own eyes.
Love. Not loved.
She's still deep in this shit. I stare at the ceiling, utterly exasperated from this cycle.
"But I...I can change." Gabriella coughs, wiping her face with her shirt collar. "I can do better."
"You can, but will you?"
"Giselle!" My dad raises his voice and I do the same thing.
"Will you, Gabriella?"
"I will!" She cries, staring up at me through her blurred vision.
That's all I needed to hear. I watch my sister lean further into my mother's chest, looking younger than I am. Small, weak, and defeated for the umpteenth time over the same ole thing. The key difference this time though is that she's admitted to not caring about herself, something that she's never done before so I have hope. I won't kick her while she's down, but this conversation isn't over yet. We need a real one on one session, sister to sister and I'll make sure we have it soon.
Both me and my dad take a seat on the sofa, opposite of them, listening to Gabriella's occasional sniffs in the otherwise quiet house. I'm thankful that Jamari hasn't woken up. Today's reunion and a hefty home-cooked meal has saved that portion of the night at least.
"Thanks for putting me on the list." I yawn, staring at the black TV screen. "I needed that."
Gabriella sighs, her voice a lot more stable as she finally returns my earlier sentiments. "I love you too, Giselle."
Cool, start acting like it.
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~~~
Happy Easter Sunday!
Do y'all feel for Gabriella? Anybody think that Giselle was too harsh? As usual, vote & comment. See y'all later! 🦋