Page 48 of When I Thug You Like That

India always got outside her body, and for the most part, I let her, but she was doing too fuckin’ much, and I was far from a bitch ass nigga.

“While you over here mad at me, be mad at your damn self for not taking the time to lock in and actually hear a nigga when I’m telling you something that benefits our son. Ain’t nobody tryna control you, man. Maybe if you get out yo’ ego, you’ll see that. I only want what’s best for him, and if that means I gotta keep reminding you of some shit that I see with my own eyes, I’ma do that. Our son is fuckin’ autistic, India. You ain’t gotta like that shit, but you need to accept it so that when shit like this happens, you know how to show up. And that’s just what it is.”

“You ain’t gotta tell me what I already know.”

“Well, act like it then. And meet him where he is, not where you want him to be.”

For the first time, she was silent. Something in her expression told me my words had finally landed somewhere she couldn’t argue her way out of. I held her stare for a few seconds before pushing away from the wall.

“Our son needs to apologize to you. He made something in the room. Go see it and then we gotta get outta here before we’re late.”

She didn’t reply. Instead, she slipped her phone in her back pocket and walked out of the kitchen. India didn’t have to like what I said. Her understanding was just fine.

I waited a few seconds before following her to Baby Jay’s room and listening to his apology from the hallway.

“Wow, man,” she exclaimed. “This is so cool.”

“I’m sorry, Mommy,” I heard Jay say.

“Oh.” India sniffled. “I’m sorry too. Mommy sorry for yelling.”

Not wanting to fully intrude on their moment, I walked back to the front of the house. I’d done my job as regulator. Now, all I needed India to understand was that I wasn’t holding my knowledge of our son’s autism over her head. I was making sure that she had the tools to stand in the paint when shit got rough.

“I go see my new school, Daddy?”

I glanced at Baby Jay through the rearview mirror. It was the third time he’d asked the same question since we’d pulled off from his mother’s house.

“Yeah.” I chuckled. “We going to the new school, champ. You remember your teacher name?”

“Ms. Jai!” he said excitedly.

“Man, they ain’t gon’ be able to do shit witchu, son. You too smart.”

“Jamison,” India spoke through my speakers.

For a minute, I’d forgotten that her ass was monitoring from her own car in front of me. I’d driven behind her out of habit. It was a safety thing.

“What?”

“Can you stop cussing in front of him?” she fussed. “All he do is take what you say and spit it right back out.”

I sucked my teeth. “Aye, man, ain’t there a reason we rode separate? So you can do you in yo’ car, and I can do me in mine?”

“No. We rode separate because I didn’t want to ride witchu.”

“Yet you still ended up in my car, just on the phone. We ‘bout to go to the same place, India.”

“Oh, shut up. You didn’t have a problem until I just called you out. And we’re here already. Bye.”

She ended the call just as she pulled into the parking lot of Abilities First. Following her inside, I parked beside her.

Baby Jay’s excitement settled some of the anxiousness that crept up in me as we got closer to the school. Although I’d done my research, asked all of my questions during the tour, and filled out paperwork, we were still embarking on something new. Now, it was on Baby Jay to get settled into the new environment, the teachers, and the students. Whether he liked it or not was something I couldn’t control, but I was looking forward to seeing how he adapted.

“You ready, champ?”

“I’m ready!” he exclaimed without an ounce of skepticism.

India and I got out at the same time, and she went to the backseat to unbuckle him.