WE hardly spoke over the next month, I pranced around, giddy and excited. The spare room was turned into a wonderful childs room and I knew Isaiah would love it.. I had a thing about tradition so I painted his room blue.. made sense to me..
Mrs. KKK did her best to dissuade me, I wouldn't budge, her partner in crime, just didn't bother to speak, he was coming home, less and less, we didn't speak, we didn't eat together, we didn't sleep together.
I picked Isaiah up on a Sunday afternoon. He gave me a warm hug and I felt my eyes well up. Mrs. KKK inquired about the other person that occupied a house with me, I told her he was fine, I lied and said he was at home finishing up Isaiah's room.. She gave me a look, I'll just leave it at that.. a look, b---h.
I stopped at the ice cream shop, that would be dessert after dinner.. I didn't want to get too many sweets, I wanted his diet, his life.. to be good, to be right, I wanted to give him what no one else would or ever did.
HE wasn't home when we arrived.. that was fine, I could focus all my attention on Isaiah.
We ate, he seemed to like my spaghetti, he enjoyed the ice cream, I held him while we watched a couple of movies then, I got him ready for bed. I lay him down and just stood there watching him.. he was angelic, he was beautiful, how could someone not love him.. I took my shower and crawled between the sheets.
I felt someone shaking me, I opened my eyes to see HIM standing there scowling at me.. HE pointed his finger and I looked down, there curled up into a little ball was Isaiah... I picked him up and tucked him into the crook of my arm, Looking at him I could see HE was not happy.. I shood him away, turned over and fell asleep.
Isaiah had come home..