“I’m not making that choice now.”
She hooted then asked, “So I’m supposed to believe you’re all better?”
“It doesn’t matter what you believe. What matters right now is where Portia is at,” Brian retorted.
“Maybe you guys can take this somewhere else and me and Boone can take the kids out for ice cream,” I suggested.
She swung back to me. “You aren’t taking my children anywhere.” Her eyes went beyond me, her face paled, and they came back to me, narrowed and vicious. “You fucking bitch.”
Boone got closer to me.
I turned to see what brought that on and saw Angelica’s mom, Brenda, bearing down on us.
“Jethro, baby, go in the house,” Brenda called.
“Yeah, Jethro, go in the house,” Angelica added.
“He’s not gonna go in the house ’cause Jethro doesn’t do anything Mom tells him to do ’cause Mom’s not our mom.”
All eyes went to the walkway, where Portia’s voice was coming from.
And I took a step back, or half of one, hitting Boone.
Oh my God.
Oh shit.
Oh God.
I started trembling, in summer, under the Denver sun.
Full-on shakes.
Boone’s arm wrapped around my chest from the back.
And that was a good call because someone was about to cut a bitch.
“Oh my God,” Brenda whispered.
“Portia, take your brother and go into the house,” Angelica demanded.
“No,” she replied. “Auntie Ryn is here, finally, and I’m going with Auntie Ryn.” She looked to me. “I’m gonna live with you. Me and Jethro are gonna live with you. If Dad can’t take us ’cause he’s tryin’ to get better, we should get to live with our real mom.”
Angelica’s body moved like she’d taken a blow.
I quickly recovered from what should not have been a surprise—just how much Portia had taken in with all this fucked-up mess—stepped away from Boone, but mostly Angelica, and put my arms out low and to the sides.
“Come here, honey, I’ve missed you. Come give your aunt a hug,” I urged.
“No,” she replied. “I’m gonna go pack.”
On that, her thinner-than-thin body turned, her not-as-healthy hair swinging out, and she’d started moving up the walk, when Angelica called out, “I’m your momma, baby girl.”
Portia whirled.
“Yeah?” she asked sarcastically. “You are? Really?”
“Yeah. Really,” Angelica said in small voice.
“You’re all mad at Dad ’cause he’s drinking. And you’re all mad at Auntie Ryn ’cause…” she shook her head, “I don’t know why. And you’re all mad at Nanna ’cause she won’t help out anymore. And you’re all mad at Gramme ’cause she’s all in your business. And you’re all mad at me ’cause I’m a bad kid. Only one I see in all that you aren’t mad at is you for bein’ a bad mommy.”
“You should mind better, Portia,” Angelica told her.
“You should be a better mom, Mom.” She looked past her mother to me. “Can I live with you?”
“No,” Brian said, moving to her. “But you can live with me.” He reached in, grabbed Jethro’s hand and finished, “Let’s go get you packed.”
“Brian, you are not taking my children,” Angelica warned.
He turned on her, and calmly stated, “I am, Ang. I’ll tell you straight up, I’m not at a place where that’s good right now, but you’re at a place where they’re better off with me. And that messes me up, my part in that, and that they got two parents who are so colossally screwed up. And it messes me up more, you don’t see your part in that. Where I’m also at is a place where I know my damage right now, so if I mess up again, I’ll call Mom,” he jerked his head, I looked that way, and saw I hadn’t noticed Mom had joined us, “or Ryn or Brenda. But, babe, until you get your shit together, the kids are with me.”
He barely finished that before Portia took his hand, tugged, and demanded, “Let’s go, Daddy.”
Brian gave Angelica a gutted look that had the effect of gutting me.
Then he let his daughter drag him up the walkway, Jethro trailing behind.
“You are not taking those kids from my house!” Angelica shrieked and made a move as if to follow them.
She got nowhere.
Brenda was in front of her.
“I swear by the great God Almighty, you stop that man, you’ll never see me again,” she threatened.
“Mom—” Angelica started on a whine.
“Shutyourmouth,” Brenda said so sharp and so fast, it was all one word. “Did you not notice the state of my granddaughter?”
“I’m going to help Brian,” Mom said softly, hustling up the walk.
Angelica did not answer her mother.
She turned to me before I could follow Mom, face twisted with rage.
It was so bad, Boone actually moved to get in front of me.
“This is all on you!” she screamed.
But Brenda turned her back around with a vicious wrench of her arm and pointed a finger in her face.
“It’s on you.” She dropped her hand. “By God, where did I go wrong with you?”