My son has a sister—father in common.
“Do you take care of her?” I asked him.
“No, it was a one night stand,” he said.
“What does that have to do with the child?”
I insisted on meeting her. Adorable. How can he turn his back on her? I bought her clothes and paid her mother, Nevis, child support. I married and left the state. I watch Oprah everyday. Today the show affected me. It wasn’t my responsibility to pay child support. He should pay for what he brought into the world. I cried. I told my husband to pay his child-support.
A few years later, I birthed a son. His father soon took leave to pursue his needs. My son and I continued on. I visited my mother. She lived in the same state with son’s sister. I picked up the phone.
“……………Did you know I have a son?” I asked Nevis.
“No, we lost touch. I stopped getting child-support.”
“I told him to pay you every month. I even begged. He is not paying for Sterling either. I’m in town. Is it o.k. if Sterling meets his sister? No, I am not with his father. I don’t even know where he is. It’s a small world. I’d like my son to meet his sister. How is she? Nice. Nice. Still in the same place? Two hours at the most. I’ll be there. ” I placed the phone on the hook.
My mom disagreed, “Why don’t you let dead dogs lie? You gettin’ ready to stir up some.. I cut her off.
“No, I’m not. I’m going to introduce my son to his sister. This is a small world. I don’t believe in secrets like you. I call your generation the 1930er’s—The Secret Generation. Everything is a stinking secret. And I do mean stinking. I watched and listened to you and your family. Y’all have 55,000 bones in the closet. This one wants to know who his father is. That one wants to know why her mother gave her away and the saga continues. One tragedy after another. You have the keys to many locked doors. As for the people who need the information, your family doesn’t care who they hurt. As far as I am concerned omission is a problem. Too many people got hurt because of something that wasn’t their fault. It’s too painful to think about—let alone talk about it. That is your family’s mind-set. Well, I’m cut from a different cloth.”
“I don’t know where you came from. You stupid #!#^**=+!#&*&^%###
“Whatever. Sterling is mine. My child is not going to grow up and fall in love with his sister. Not if I have anything to do with it.”
“He’s not gon’ ever meet her. You stupid #$%^&^*(*&^%%
“I know you don’t care how you talk to me, but don’t talk to me like this in front of my child. You can’t stop? Well, I’m going home?”
I dressed Sterling. We left. He met his sister. I couldn’t believe how much they favored. Wow!
After he met her, we left the state. I hate that place.
Sterling is a fine looking man. He called me. Wanted his sister’s last name. I didn’t hesitate. He phoned again. “Mom,” he said, “She is beautiful. She is fine Mom. I shot her an email. I love you, and I thank you. She’s all I have. I don’t have any other siblings. She’s an only child too. She’s beautiful Mom. She’s on Facebook.”
“Is she son?”
I looked her up on Facebook. Look, I said, in an undertone. Will you looka there! Yep she’d be in my living all right. I don’t think he’d recognize their strong resemblance. There is a difference between living in the past and facing it.
Who knew? Facebook?
Vivian Dixon Sober
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