He didn’t look at me as he repeated himself. “No.”
“Joshua.” I moved my head to the side to block his view of the screen. I raised my eyebrows. “We’re going to talk about it. Now. Save your game. You’re not even going to play well right now anyway.”
Those little fingers hammered at the keys of his controller a moment before he sent it flying behind his head, the innocent remote hitting the wall before it crashed to the ground. His chest started expanding in and out, and he was breathing hard, his face turning red.
It was times like these I had no idea what the hell I was supposed to do with him. What was the right thing to say? How was I supposed to soothe him? I didn’t fool myself into thinking that it wasn’t these moments that would shape how he handled bad things for the rest of his life. I knew it was. I knew that however I taught him to deal with shit would be the route he would most likely take from now on. And throwing shit was not something I wanted him to continue with.
“I get that you’re pissed off, J, and I don’t blame you.” I couldn’t tell him I understood he was hurt; it would immediately put him on edge and defensive. He didn’t get hurt. “But throwing your shit around is not all right. You want to deal with your anger? Do something productive. Scream your anger into a pillow to get it out of your system, but don’t bottle your shit, don’t break things, and don’t take it out on someone else. If your remote is broken, I’m not buying you another one.”
“I didn’t ask you to buy me another one.”
“Cut the attitude, Josh. Now. Talk to me.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Too bad,” I told him as I watched him avert his eyes to the wall at his right. Fucking Anita. I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to kick her ass, mother of my nephew or not. But I couldn’t and I wouldn’t. I had to be a role model and role models didn’t go around tasering people. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”
He said nothing.
“If you don’t want to talk, then listen. No one is perfect, J. No one. We’ve all made stupid mistakes in our lives, and when you get older, you’re going to make a ton of them yourself, but that’s what I want you to understand—you have to learn from what you do, the good and the bad. I will never forgive Anita for what she did when you were a baby, but I don’t know what it must have been like to be so young and get pregnant either, okay? Neither one of us will ever understand that. And God knows, every time I see her, I want to smack her in the face for getting into so much trouble after you were born, but that’s the thing: I remember your dad telling me she wasn’t close to her parents. She didn’t have anyone to love her the way that Abuelito and Abuelita loved me, much less the way that I love you and Louie. You know I would do anything for you. I’m going to be here for you for the rest of my life, J. You’ll always have options in your life, and I won’t let you fuck up, do you understand me?
“I’ve told you before, you don’t ever have to do anything with her if you don’t want to, but maybe one day you will. I’ve told her before that, if she wants a chance of getting to know you, she’d have to get her life together.”
“I don’t want to know her!” he screamed, high and sounding so young the sound was like acid to my soul. “Not today! Not tomorrow! Never! She’s a bitch!” Before I knew it, he was off the carpet and throwing himself on his bed. He yanked his pillow from where it had been sitting and smashed it against his face, screaming into it for several long seconds until he tapered off. His chest started doing that puffing thing again, and I was 99 percent sure he was crying. It killed me. And what he finally said next, slid the knife in even deeper. “Don’t make me go with her. Please. You promised me—you promised me you would always take care of me.”
“Don’t call her a bitch,” I told him calmly, even though I felt anything but that. One of the worst things in the world was watching someone you love fall apart. “I told you, if you don’t want to see her, that’s fine. I’m not going to force you to, but maybe one day when you’re older you might want to. Maybe. I don’t blame you, but I want you to understand that you’re mine. You’re not going anywhere. I didn’t carry you around inside of me for nine months, but that doesn’t mean anything to me. You’re mine, Josh. You’re my Joshy Poo and you always will be. I’ll fight anybody for you who tries to say otherwise. But just because you’re mine doesn’t mean one day—if you want—she can’t be in your life, too. Some people don’t have even one person who cares about them, and you’ve had Mandy, too.”
He was silent. His back was bowed over his pillow, and he was shaking. I had never, ever wanted to kill a person more than I did in that moment. This was what Anita had done to unbendable, resilient Josh. I’d never forgive her for it. His question came out like a croak, muffled and raw. “You promise I’m yours?”
“Josh, you really believe you’re not?” I asked him as I got to my feet and sat on the edge of the bed with him, scooting back until I was lying alongside him, my head resting next to his chest. “I’ve wiped your butt. You’ve thrown up on me. I’ve spent my weekends at your games screaming my voice sore. I’ve hugged you and loved you even when you haven’t been very nice. You’re my d-o-double-g. You’re the peanut butter to my jelly. The pain to my ass—”
I was pretty sure he snorted even with the pillow covering his mouth, but it sounded watered down and hurt.
My own eyes started to get teary. “One day when you’re way older, you’re going to get a girlfriend and I’m going to want to kill the little b-i-t-c-h. I’m going to hate her guts. But you know what? I know at the end of the day, I’m still going to be your number one girl.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because she will never know what it’s like to have put a thermometer in your butt.”
That time, his laugh reached his chest.
“Josh, I love you and Louie, and nothing and no one will ever replace you two losers. I swear on my life. I will lie, cheat, and steal for you, and I always, always will.” I scooted my head closer to him, so the side of my face rested on his rib cage. “You hear me?”
His face was still covered. “Yeah, I guess.”
I’d have to take it. “You better.”
Neither one of us said anything for a while, but eventually the pillow on top of his face fell away, and his hand went to my hair. “Promise, we’ll always be family?”
“Kid, you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”