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Krissy’s angry words were like a vapor that sucked all the joy out of the room. I could tell Darlene was embarrassed. She moved around in the chair like she was trying to get up.
“Darlene, please, let me,” I said. “If you trust me, I have something to say that might get through to her.”
Darlene nodded. I gave Mekhi a look before I left the room. I picked up an iPad and went up the stairs. I found her sitting on the floor in a corner of the room. Her chest was rising and falling like a bull that saw red. I could see it, even in the shadows. I turned on the overhead light.
“I know this is your house, Ms. Samaria, but I don’t want to talk. I want to be alone.”
“I can’t leave you alone. I’m running out of time. What I have to say can’t wait.”
“Running out of time? Where are we going to go? My mama is still hurting from the baby.”
“Honey, I didn’t say you had to go anywhere. I said I’m running out of time.” I pulled an ottoman in front of her and took a seat. “Krissy, I know you’re angry, but I want to help you.”
“You think buying me some stuff and letting me visit your house is helping me? All you showing me is what we don’t have. What rich people got that we don’t? All I want is my daddy and not to live in a shelter and I know I can’t have my father, but I don’t want my mama to have to work so hard to keep a house for us.” She pounded a fist against the wall.
“Being angry...do you think that helps your mother? Do you think it makes her feel good about herself to have an angry child? Your mother is doing the best she can do, but if every time she looks at you, your face is pinched in a frown, it makes her feel like a failure.”
Krissy banged on the wall again.
“I want to show you something,” I said. I unlocked the iPad, went to Google and pulled up some of the articles about myself and presented them to her. “You see this? That’s me. I may be living in this big house, but those are my hands in handcuffs and all these other articles are my life rolling out in the news for all the world to see.”
Krissy looked at me and then back at the tablet at the headlines that read: Music Producer’s wife takes plea deal. Wife of Mekhi Johnson loses baby. Samaria Jacob-Johnson, wife of Mekhi Johnson headed to jail.
Krissy frowned. “This is from this month.”
I nodded. “Yes, I go to jail tomorrow.”
“For a year?” Krissy asked pointing to one of the headlines that indicated the fact.
“Possibly,” I said. “I might get out earlier.”
“Why?”
“It’s a long story and you’re a little young to hear it. What I want you to know about my story is that I did some bad things because I spent my childhood being angry. Angry about my daddy leaving me when I was five, angry about living poor, and then as a young woman, angry about a man breaking my heart.” I raised a hand to stroke her cheek. “My mother was angry too, so she was mean to me. She never told me she loved me. She still hasn’t. You saw how she behaved today. She’s still angry.”
A lone tear slid down Krissy’s cheek and I wiped it.
“I was angry because I felt like people...the whole world let me down. No one protected me from the ugly things in life and because of that anger, I thought the world owed me something. I made a lot of bad decisions. Mistakes I’d do anything to take back. Mistakes I’m about to pay for with a year of my life, even when I have all this.” I swept my hand in the direction of my things. “And a good husband that I have to leave. I still have to pay. So what I want to say to you, Krissy...is I see you. I see your anger, but baby, don’t let it take over your mind and your heart. Your father would never want to see you end up like me.”
A dam burst inside of her. I thought I’d never seen a child cry so hard, but then I had a memory of a reflection in the mirror. Myself at five-years-old on Christmas Day.
Krissy moaned and brought me back to the present. I wrapped my arms around her. “It’s okay to cry, baby. Cry as much as you want.”
And she did. She cried hard and when it was over, I was there to give her a handful of tissues. “Thank you, Miss Samaria,” she said. “Thank you for helping my family.”
I pulled her to me. She and I re-entered the great room like all heck hadn’t broken lose before we left.
Darlene winked at me and I smiled. “I think this baby needs to go back in his seat.”
“Can I hold him?” Krissy asked.
“Sure, sweetie,” Darlene said.
I stood and took the baby from Darlene. It was my first time holding him. I stopped to look at his sweet, little face. I felt my heart shatter a bit, but I still managed to smile. I felt the joy his little spirit held. I looked into Mekhi’s eyes and saw sadness, but he managed to half-smile for me.
I placed the baby in Krissy’s waiting arms. She looked at him for a few moments and then said, “He’s so nice. I think he looks like daddy.”
Darlene nodded. “I think so too.”
“If our daddy had died in Afghanistan, you wouldn’t be here,” Krissy whispered. She pulled the baby close to her and sniffed his hair. She raised a hand to wipe a tear. Her eyes connected with mine. “Thank you for making our Christmas special, Miss Samaria.”
I shook my head. “It was you who made my Christmas special.”
I looked at Mekhi. He winked and I winked back.