Chapter 2: The Man Who Couldn't Stand Another Man's Memory
Tiana didn't shave Curtis's beard.
Not that morning.
She simply held the clipper long enough for him to understand what it felt like to have someone threaten something he loved.
Then she switched it off.
“Get away from me,” Curtis muttered.
Tiana placed the clipper on the bathroom counter.
“Now you know how Zion felt.””
Curtis rubbed his chin.
“You've lost your mind.””
“No. I think I've finally found it.””
Cora was already taking Zion into the bedroom.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you cleaned up.””
Zion looked over Cora's shoulder.
“Mommy?””
Tiana turned immediately.
“I'm here, baby.””
“Are you mad at me?””
The question hit her harder than anything Curtis had said.
She crouched in front of him.
“Why would I be mad at you?””
“Because I moved when he was cutting.””
Tiana felt something tighten in her chest.
She placed both hands gently against his cheeks.
“Listen to me. You did nothing wrong. You hear me?””
Zion nodded.
“Nothing,” she repeated.
“You never have to sit quietly while somebody hurts you.””
His eyes filled again.
“Can I still take my picture?””
Tiana glanced at his hair.
She swallowed.
“Yes, sweetheart. We'll figure it out.””
Cora led him toward the bedroom.
Tiana remained in the bathroom.
Curtis reached for his phone.
“I'm already late. Can we discuss this tonight?””
She stood.
“Tonight?””
“Yes. I have work.””
“You had enough time to shave my son's head.””
Curtis turned.
“He is not your son alone. I'm raising him too.””
“You're his stepfather. That doesn't give you permission to hurt him.””
“I was trying to teach him discipline.””
“By cutting off the thing he loves?””
Curtis laughed without humor.
“Here we go again. Everything has to be about his dead father.””
Tiana went completely still.
“What did you just say?””
Curtis leaned against the sink.
“I'm tired of competing with a dead man.””
There it was.
Not an accident.
Not a misunderstanding.
The truth had finally slipped out.
Tiana stared at him.
“Competing?””
“Every picture in this house has Marcus in it. Every birthday, every holiday, every conversation. Zion walks around acting like he's still here.””
“He was his father.””
“And I'm the one who's actually here!””
Curtis slapped his palm against the counter.
“I buy his shoes. I take him to school. I pay for his activities. I do everything, but he still wants to look like Marcus.””
Tiana's voice dropped.
“Because Marcus was his father.””
“I'm the man in this house.””
“And that is exactly why you should behave like one.””
Curtis pushed away from the sink.
“You always take his side.””
“Because you're hurting him.””
“He needs to understand that I'm not Marcus.””
Tiana shook her head.
“No. You need to understand that you're not Marcus.””
Curtis stared at her.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then he grabbed his car keys and walked out.
The front door slammed.
Tiana stood alone in the bathroom, staring at the scattered curls.
She picked up one small section.
It was soft.
Still warm from the bathroom.
She remembered brushing those curls when Zion was a toddler. She remembered Marcus sitting on the living room floor, letting their little boy climb onto his shoulders.
She remembered the hospital room.
The machines.
The funeral.
The tiny hand holding hers as she tried to explain why Daddy wasn't coming home.
She had spent years making sure Zion could remember his father without feeling guilty.
And now Curtis had turned that memory into something the child needed to apologize for.
“Mommy?””
Zion stood in the doorway.
He had changed into a T-shirt.
Tiana quickly wiped her eyes.
“Hey, handsome.””
“Can I show you something?””
He held out a small photograph.
It was an old picture of Marcus holding him at a summer picnic. Zion was barely two, sitting on his father's shoulders.
Both of them had matching curls.
Tiana took the picture carefully.
“I found it under my pillow,” Zion said.
“Why was it there?””
“I wanted Daddy to see my school picture.””
Tiana couldn't speak.
Zion looked at the photograph.
“Do you think he would still like me if my hair was short?””
She pulled him into her arms.
“Your daddy would love you if you had no hair at all.””
Zion rested his head against her shoulder.
“Curtis says I should stop trying to look like him.””
Tiana closed her eyes.
“What else does Curtis say?””
Zion hesitated.
“Sometimes he says Daddy isn't coming back, so I should stop asking about him.””
Tiana pulled back.
“Does he say that often?””
Zion nodded.
“Sometimes when you work.””
“Does he say anything else?””
The boy looked toward the hallway.
“He says I make you sad when I talk about Daddy.””
Tiana's heart sank.
“Baby, you never make me sad by remembering your father.””
Zion looked unconvinced.
“He says you want a new family.””
Tiana stared at him.
Then she kissed his forehead.
“You are my family. You always have been.””
That evening, after Zion fell asleep beside Cora, Tiana went into the living room.
Curtis was sitting on the couch watching television.
His beard was neatly combed.
His favorite glass sat on the coffee table.
He looked completely comfortable.
“Can we talk?”” Tiana asked.
Curtis didn't look away from the screen.
“If this is about the haircut, I'm done discussing it.””
“It's not just about the haircut.””
“Then what?””
“What have you been telling Zion when I'm not home?””
Curtis finally turned.
“What are you talking about?””
“He told me you say he makes me sad when he talks about Marcus.””
Curtis sighed.
“Kids twist things.””
“He also said you told him I wanted a new family.””
Curtis sat upright.
“I never said that.””
“Then explain why my eight-year-old believes he has to choose between remembering his father and making me happy.””
Curtis rubbed his forehead.
“You're making this bigger than it is.””
“No. You made it bigger when you decided my son's grief was an inconvenience.””
He stood.
“I've done more for that boy than Marcus ever could.””
Tiana's eyes hardened.
“Don't compare yourself to a dead man.””
“Why? Because he can never be wrong?””
“Because he's dead, Curtis. And you're alive. You have every opportunity to be a good man to that child.””
Curtis walked toward the kitchen.
“I'm not apologizing for trying to make him a normal kid.””
Tiana followed.
“There's nothing abnormal about missing his father.””
Curtis opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water.
“I'm done.””
He twisted the cap.
Tiana looked at him.
“One more question.””
He rolled his eyes.
“What now?””
“Why did you really cut his hair?””
Curtis took a drink.
Then he said something that made her blood run cold.
“Because every time I look at him, I see Marcus looking back at me.””
Tiana stood motionless.
Curtis shrugged.
“And I'm tired of seeing that face in my house.””
He walked away.
But he didn't notice the small figure standing at the top of the stairs.
Zion had heard every word.
He was holding the photograph of his father against his chest.
May you like
And when Tiana turned toward him, he quietly asked:
“Mommy, if I don't look like Daddy anymore, will Curtis finally love me?””
