23

“I’m so sorry, Katia,” Mrs. Hendricks said over the phone, her voice cracking. “The vote was thirteen to one to let you go

as executive director. I tried.”

Mrs. Hendricks and I had spoken this morning before the board convened, so I knew the vote would more than likely go this

way. It hurt that any of the board members would vote against me, but it particularly hurt that the Negro men on the board

didn’t have my back. When it came down to it, I’m not sure why I felt they’d be on my side. After all, Mrs. Hendricks was

the only person who’d ever supported me unwaveringly.

I’d given everything I had in me to this group home and the young men we served. It was hard for me to grasp that everything

I’d tried to do wasn’t enough. My time at the job I’d loved more than any other was over.

I took a deep breath and then spoke. “Thank you for informing me, Mrs. Hendricks. I’m saddened that the board felt they needed to take such a drastic measure without even having a conversation with me about it. When is my last day?” I was surprised at how calm my voice was. Inwardly, I was screaming, How dare you? I have given this group home my everything! How dare you throw me away like yesterday’s newspaper? How dare you?

“The end of day on Monday,” she said. I sucked in air. So soon. I had a lot to wrap up, and they expected me to do it by Monday?

I supposed it could have been worse. They could have said by the end of today or immediately, but acknowledging that didn’t

relieve the sting. “Sam will be in touch with you soon. I just wanted you to hear the news from me first. I wish I could have

done more.”

“Did they say who they might select to take my place?” I prayed they’d at least do the right thing and let Jason stay on as

the interim director.

“I insisted that they keep the rest of the staff intact, so your assistant director will become the interim director if he

wants the position,” she said. I sighed with relief. “I can’t promise you they’ll vote to retain him as executive director,

but hopefully...”

As Mrs. Hendricks continued to speak, my eyes wandered around my office. So many memories here. Over the years, I’d made this space my own, from decorative knickknacks on the bookshelves to the wall of honor filled with photos of the boys who’d “graduated” from living at the group home. Yet there were a lot of reminders that this office had once belonged to Colonel Samuel P. Arrington, a Confederate Army officer. I remembered my first day on the job and how overwhelming it was to walk into this expansive room that the family called “the Colonel’s chambers,” a name I’d continued to call it until a few years ago. His portrait used to hang on the wall opposite my desk, but eventually I’d convinced the family that it was better suited out in the hallway where everyone could see it. Every day when I walked by his portrait, I wondered what he’d think, knowing a Negro woman who favored Nina Simone now occupied his office—an office where he probably met with other white, Southern men to discuss ways to keep my people enslaved. The irony of it all was never lost on me.

“Katia... Katia...,” Mrs. Hendricks called to me. I’d almost forgotten she was on the phone.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Hendricks. Thank you for all you have done.”

“I’m sorry that things ended this way. You deserve much better.” I could hear the tears in her voice. I had no tears left

at this point.

We said our goodbyes, and shortly after we hung up Sam called. The call was short. I had nothing to say, so I listened while

he relayed the details of my exit. Once he was done, we hung up.

I sat there for a moment, reliving the two vastly different conversations about my firing. When I looked at the clock, I saw

it was a little after noon. On the weekends, the boys mostly raided the kitchen for leftovers or they ate sandwiches. I imagined

they were either eating or playing basketball outside with Jason. Probably the latter, since it was a sunny day and Jason

believed in keeping the boys moving.

There was a knock at my door. “Come in,” I said.

Seth stepped inside. Memories of the phone call from the night before when his ex-wife answered the phone flooded my mind. I didn’t want to talk to him, but I realized he might need to speak with me about the work his crew was doing on the group home. I tried to put on my most efficient face.

“Good morning. May I help you?” I asked, my voice sounding cold and distant. I wasn’t trying to be rude. I was just overwhelmed.

“Good morning.” Seth moved closer to the desk—the same mahogany desk Colonel Arrington once sat at. I imagined he was somewhere

in the spirit world, cackling with delight at my firing. “Are you okay, Kat?”

“I’m fine,” I said. “Do you need something?”

He looked at me with curiosity but quickly turned serious. “I have a few questions about the bathroom remodel. I have a couple

of new guys working with me now. They can work on the bathroom while the other guys finish repairing the roof.”

“Sounds good,” I said. “Do we need to go upstairs to the bathroom?”

“That would be best. Kat, you sound so... I don’t know. You just don’t sound like yourself.” He continued to stare at me,

as if he were trying to figure out the pieces to a puzzle. If I’d had the energy to smile in order to stop the scrutiny, I

would have. I wanted to go home and hide in my bedroom like I used to do in elementary school after the kids had picked on

me at school. You’re not little Katia anymore , I thought and tried to make myself believe those words.

“I’m just busy,” I said and stood up. Evidently I moved too quickly, because the room was spinning. I plopped back down into

my seat and Seth came over and placed his hand on my shoulder.

“Kat, what just happened? You almost fell.”

I gripped my desk and closed my eyes. “I’m okay. Just a bit lightheaded. Give me a second and we can go see about the bathroom.”

“I know Chad’s death has to be weighing on you. Maybe you need to take a break. Go home and start fresh on Monday.”

I couldn’t stop the half sob that escaped my throat, and as much as I hadn’t planned to say anything to him, the words spilled

out. “I’ll have plenty of time to take a break after Monday. The board fired me this morning.”

“Oh, Kat,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry. That’s so unfair. Can you fight it?”

I shook my head. “Other than one board member, the vote was unanimous. They want me gone and I’m not going to beg any of them

for my job.”

“Kat, I’d bend down, but this leg won’t let me. Will you sit with me on the couch?”

I shook my head. “We need to take care of the bathroom situation. I’ll be fine.” This time I rose more slowly and steadied myself. Seth was standing so close I couldn’t move around him. He smelled amazing. Whatever his cologne was, it was meant for him. I looked up into his eyes. I truly could get lost inside them. But I reminded myself of two things: one, Denise was back, and she clearly didn’t see herself as his ex, and two, nothing had changed about my circumstances. I couldn’t have babies and it was too much to ask any man to give up on being a father. It was one thing to date Leon, a man who had children and grandchildren, but it was something altogether different to date a young, vibrant, childless man. While at first he might say it didn’t matter, I knew that at some point it would.

“Are you ready to go upstairs?”

Seth reached out and put a hand on each of my shoulders. “We vowed to be friends. Let me be your friend. You’ve been hit with

two terrible blows within just a few days, not to mention the stress of your brothers’ situations. This is a lot. It’s okay

for you to lean on someone else sometimes.”

It would be so easy to allow myself to be folded into his embrace. My body was sure craving it. If I closed my eyes, I could

imagine the feel of him holding me, caressing me. But I refused to take his pity, and that was all it could possibly be. Pity.

I shook my head. “Show me what you need me to see.”

Seth’s hands fell away from my shoulders. I tried not to dwell on how much I wanted his hands to stay where they were.

“Okay,” he said. He moved aside, I walked around him, and together we exited the office. There was no sign of the boys, so

I knew they were outside playing with Jason. We went upstairs and everything was businesslike. I made what was probably the

final decision I’d make for the group home: where to position the urinals. Any other time, I’d find that amusing, but I couldn’t

muster even a hint of a smile, let alone laughter. Once we finished our discussion, we went back downstairs and stood near

the front door.

“Kat, I...”

This time I placed my hand on his arm, and I managed some semblance of a smile. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine, Seth. I appreciate

your concern.”

“Call me if you need to talk.”

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m pretty sure your wife would not be pleased.” I was about to walk away, but he reached for

my arm.

“Wait, Kat. What are you talking about?”

I wished I’d held my peace and said nothing.

“Last night I called your house and Denise answered the phone—or should I say, Mrs. Taylor answered. That was how she referred

to herself,” I said, folding my arms across my chest for lack of a better place for them. “I understand you and I are just

friends, but I don’t want to complicate things with you and Denise and I don’t want her thinking there’s something between

us when there isn’t.”

“Oh, Kat,” he groaned. “I didn’t know she was at the house until I got there, and I sure didn’t know she was answering the

phone, referring to herself as my wife. She’s not my wife. She’s my ex-wife and that’s the lane she’ll always occupy in my

life.”

“It didn’t sound that way when she answered.” I wanted to believe him, but Denise didn’t sound like a woman who believed she

was merely water underneath the bridge.

“Kat, I didn’t invite her to the house,” he said, stepping closer to me. “I didn’t even know she was in town. She came over

and spent the afternoon with my mother. Yesterday I left the group home and went straight to the church for the group session.

When I got home, she was there, and I asked her to leave. I also told my mother that if she intends to continue being friends

with my ex-wife, I wouldn’t be able to stay in the house. My father agreed, and finally my mother did too. She even apologized

to me.”

“Oh,” I said. That solved one part of my dilemma, but the issue of my not being able to have a baby was a fixed issue that wasn’t going away.

“Kat, you could have just said something. I’m hopeful that at some point you’ll give us a try. Just know I’d never do anything

to jeopardize that possibility.”

I took a step back. My closeness to him was too much. I didn’t want to allow myself to weaken. I could tell he was about to

say more, but mercifully the doorbell rang.

“I need to see who that is,” I said, rushing to open the door. An elderly Negro woman stood there, clutching her purse in

one hand and a Bible in the other. I wondered if she was a Jehovah’s Witness. Sometimes they came by and offered to do Bible

study with the boys.

“Good morning, ma’am,” I said. “May I help you?”

“Uh, yes, ma’am,” she said. “My name is Irma Staples. I’m Mason Jones’s grandmother. On his daddy’s side.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, smiling. “Come in.”

“Good day, ladies,” Seth said, nodding at both of us. “I’ll check in with you later, Miss Daniels.”

I appreciated the professional tone he used. I also appreciated the fact that we didn’t have to continue our conversation.

“Thank you, Mr. Taylor.” Mrs. Staples and I watched as he walked out the door. Then I turned back to her. “Would you like

to follow me to my office?”

Until Monday, it was my office, and I was treating it as such. Mrs. Staples clutched her purse and her Bible close. I guided her to the back of the house. I couldn’t deny that I was surprised to see her. Judging from our last conversation, I didn’t think we’d ever hear from her again. Once we entered my office, I offered her some coffee or tea.

“No, ma’am,” she said. “Though I ’preciate the offer. I wanted to come by here and talk to you about Mason.”

I motioned for her to sit in the chair in front of my desk. Once we were both seated, I asked her how I could be of service.

“I want to do right by that boy,” she said, the tears streaming down her face. I slid the tissue box closer to her. I was

used to sadness and crying in this room. Sometimes the sadness would be from the boys, but sometimes it was my own. I waited

for her to calm down. After a few seconds, she took a deep breath and spoke. “My son Nathan called me from the jail. Seems

somebody got word to him that the boy’s mama died. I talked to God about my last conversation with you about Mason, and I

got the feeling God was not pleased with me.”

“Mrs. Staples, I know that you have a lot on your plate. I understand.” I couldn’t imagine how she was managing to raise so

many children and grandchildren all by herself, not to mention three of her nieces and nephews. She had every right to feel

overwhelmed.

“I was rude to you when we last spoke. I apologize for that. But I want to do right by Mason. I ain’t got a lot, but what

I have, I want to share with him. He’s my grandboy too.”

“I accept your apology,” I said, leaning forward in my chair. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“I want Mason to come live with me,” she said. “That other family of his ain’t gone ever take him in. He should be with people who love him.”

“Mrs. Staples, everyone at the group home loves Pee Wee—I mean, Mason,” I said. “You could always let him stay here and you

and the other children could be part of his life through visitation. It isn’t perfect, but I’ve seen it work.”

There had been occasions when the biological parent or parents were deemed unfit to raise their child, but through our efforts

and their child’s caseworker’s efforts, we’d been able to create a family structure that worked for all involved. I’d be honored

to do this for Mrs. Staples and Pee Wee. I’d rather this be my legacy than picking out bathroom fixtures.

“I appreciate what you’re saying, ma’am, but he’s my responsibility.” She dabbed at her eyes again. “Mr. Staples died when

my children were young, and I wasn’t sure how I was gone make it, but every single time, God helped me to find a way. I gotta

believe in the power of that same God now. One more mouth to feed ain’t gone make that much difference. When can I take him?”

“Mason’s caseworker will have to work out the details, but I’m sure...” I pulled out Pee Wee’s file from the cabinet by my desk. I saw that both Vanessa, Pee Wee’s mama, and Nathan, Mrs. Staples’s son, had listed her as the next of kin. For that reason alone, her chances of getting custody of Pee Wee were very good. “I imagine that if everything checks out okay, you’ll be able to take him home before Christmas.” Christmas was a few weeks away. Ample time for the paperwork to be processed. On Monday I’d make it a priority to speak to Pee Wee’s caseworker, Mrs. Gonzalez, before I finished my last day at the group home. I needed to leave on a high. I needed to believe that even though I wasn’t able to give Chad a happy ending to his story, maybe, just maybe, I could give one to Pee Wee.

“Would it be alright for me to see him? Just for a few minutes?” she asked, still wiping away tears. “I don’t even know if

Mason remembers me. It’s been a couple of years since we last saw each other. He probably forgot he has a grandmama.”

I stood up from my chair. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Staples. Even if he doesn’t remember you, this is a good time to get reacquainted.

Pee Wee is a sweet soul and the only thing he wants out of life is to love and be loved. Until everything is worked out, it’s

best not to mention him going home with you.”

She nodded, hugging her Bible to her chest.

“I’ll be right back,” I said. I went to the back porch of the house, and as I’d imagined, Pee Wee, Darren, Charlie, Jason,

and David were playing basketball. When they saw me at the door, they stopped playing, and Pee Wee ran toward me.

“I sc-sc-scored four p-p-points, Miss Katia,” Pee Wee said excitedly.

“Good for you,” I said, lightly squeezing his shoulder. “Pee Wee, there’s someone here to see you.”

He looked at me with confusion. “S-s-see me? Th-th-there’s someone t-t-to see m-m-me?”

“Yes,” I said, smiling down at him. “Your father’s mother—your grandmother—is here to see you.” I didn’t want to say more than that. Until the caseworker became involved, I wasn’t going to give him any additional details to worry about. “Would you like to see her?”

Pee Wee nodded. “Yes, m-m-ma’am.”

“Good. The rest of you can stay outside and continue playing basketball. Jason, would you mind going inside with us?”

“I don’t mind at all,” he said. “Ready to go see your grandma?”

“I s-s-sure am. Th-th-think she’ll l-l-like me?”

“Absolutely,” Jason said, putting his arm around Pee Wee’s shoulder. Jason looked at me and mouthed, Everything okay?

I tried to smile. I needed to tell him what the board had decided, and then we needed to figure out our strategy over the

next two days. But before then, we needed to make sure that Pee Wee’s reunion with his grandmother went well.

“Let’s go,” I said, and the three of us went inside.

Jason and I walked Pee Wee to my office, and when we opened the door, his grandmother was standing, looking expectantly toward

the door.

“Mason,” she said, stretching open her arms. Pee Wee didn’t move.

I bent over and whispered in his ear. “It’s okay. Go to her.”

Pee Wee looked up at me and I nodded as reassuringly as I could. He went over slowly to Mrs. Staples, stopping just out of

her reach.

“Hey, Mason. I’m Grandma Staples,” she said in a soft voice, as if she didn’t want to scare him away. “Can I give you a hug?”

He walked into her embrace. “Th-th-they call me P-P-Pee Wee.”

“Alright then, Pee Wee. They call me Grandma Staples.”

I looked over at Jason. He had a huge grin on his face. It wasn’t often that we got to experience moments like this with our residents. More often than not, their stories didn’t end well, but I prayed that this story would.

I went over to Jason. “I need you to pull together the staff. Tell them I need all hands on deck.”

His grin immediately disappeared. “Yes, ma’am,” he said and left my office to make the calls. I appreciated that he didn’t

ask any questions. I only had it in me to tell everyone I’d been fired one time.

Pee Wee and his grandmother went over and sat on the couch. I decided to give them some privacy, so while they talked quietly,

I eased out of the room and went to the staff meeting space, where once again I’d be the bearer of bad news.