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Like every other time I’ve seen her, she wears a baggy sweater that could rival an ugly sweater winner and ill-fitting pants that does nothing for her figure. Not that I’ve seen what she’s working with, but I have a good eye, and it’s angry at her for this travesty of an outfit.
I follow her into the walk-in pantry and close the door.
She swings around, a murderous glow in her gaze. “What kind of vetting did you do for Baldwin Academy?”
“It’s the best private school in Douglas. What else do I need to know?”
Zakiya breathes in and out as if calling on the God of patience to give her an extra helping. When she does speak, her voice comes through like a strangled whisper. “Is there staff trained to handle the kind of trauma Jinx experienced? Will they be able to manage a situation if someone triggers her? Will they punish her because of the way she reacts to something that crosses her boundaries?”
“I’m sure?—”
“Stop right there. You can’t be sure of anything. Raising Jinx isn’t going to be the same as if her mother were like you.”
“Like me? What the fuck does that mean?” I don’t raise my voice, but I want to, angry but not knowing why.
“You aren’t blind. Jinx is a dark-skinned Black girl living in Colorado. People will treat her diff?—”
“Are you forgetting who I am?” My response stops her short and we take a few breaths to calm ourselves.
“For a second, I did. The question about how suited they are to childhood trauma remains. And no offense to your scary community standing, but there are situations you and your reputation can’t protect her from.”
“She has you for that.” I check my watch, mentally rearranging my schedule.
“I won’t be here forever,” Zakiya reminds me.
The sour taste returns to my mouth, but I don’t address it. Can’t address it. Doing so would expose me, make me vulnerable to a woman who already holds too much sway over me and too many secrets I’ve yet to uncover.
“Let’s put your mind at ease.” I open the door and walk out.
“What does that mean?”
“Baldwin Academy will be our first school visit. If they fail to address your concerns, we’ll go to your list.”
“Thank you,” she mumbles while passing me.
Her scent floats below my nose, and I secretly inhale the alluring aroma, savoring it as it touches the back of my throat.
“Are you coming?”
I open my eyes to her puzzled stare. Maybe I’m not as good at hiding how she affects me as I think I am.
“Right behind you.”
When she nears the stove, Zakiya stops. “Oh, I left your breakfast in the microwave.”
“You made me breakfast.” I don’t know what to do with this information.
No woman since my mother has made a meal for me. Although I can acknowledge I never gave them the opportunity, having it foisted on me now leaves my mind spinning. Zakiya wants nothing from me outside of my ability to provide for and protect my daughter. But this move… I can’t and won’t trust it.
With all her secrets, it’s a miracle I trust her with Jinx at all.
Without waiting for my response, she removes the plate from the microwave and sets it on the table opposite Jinx. Even if I want to ignore the food and avoid a repeat of last night’s awkwardness, I can’t. Whether she knows what she’s done, Zakiya has issued a challenge I must face.
Sweat sneaks its way under my arms, making a joke out of the image I portray to the world. If anyone discovers I, Sansone DeLuca, am terrified of my shadow when it comes to my little girl, I’ll never be able to show my face let alone lead my men.
I sit and silently fork the food into my mouth. In the back of my mind, I savor the pancake’s crusty, buttery edges and fluffy middle. Before I know it, I’m scraping everything from my plate. Jinx stares at me the whole time. I can’t tell if she’s curious or fearful of me, and the not knowing causes the meal I just ate to churn in my stomach.
This isn’t the first time you’ve dealt with this, remember?
