“What you doing? I got him.” Camilla smoothed her hair and pulled her dress down to cover parts of her I’d neither seen nor used since the conception. “He probably just had a bad dream.”
“Well, now you gon’ have a bad life,” I grumbled. “I ain’t paying for this. Get out before I throw you out.”
“You’d kick me and your baby out?” she pouted.
“No, just you.” I shook my head as I disappeared into the dark basement. A second later, I found the switch right where I remembered it. The place, like Camilla, looked better in the dark. She had clothes everywhere. She had dirty dishes on almost every surface. The place was a mess. How could anyone live like this? She was wrecking my house. There on the other side of the room, I found Keyon standing in his crib, wailing. Though two and a half years old, Camilla refused my offers for a big boy bed. Now I knew why. She liked to keep him penned up, under her control, just like me.
I snatched him out of the crib and held him close. “It’s okay, little man. Daddy loves you.” He clung to my neck in a way that broke my heart a little.
“Daddy,” he cried. “I scared.”
“I know, buddy. You don’t have to be scared no more.” I rubbed his back as I mounted the stairs. Camilla and I were about to have a very serious conversation as soon as I managed to get the little guy to sleep again.
Only when I reached the top of the stairs, the door was still wide open and Camilla and her car were gone.