Page 2 of Half Sight Whole Heart
As I watched him, I felt that familiar tug.
It was a mixture of love, guilt, and awe.
I never wanted Ermias to feel he had to take care of me.
But the truth was, he always noticed when I was a little off, when my left side lagged behind the right, when I bumped corners or hesitated steps.
Instead of making a big deal out of it, he just… helped.
He was five. Just five, and already a better man than most grown ones I know.
“You’re doing amazing,” I praised.
He grinned, one front tooth missing and eyes bright. “Because you said we’re a team!”
I sniffed back tears. “Always,” I said.
“Even when your eye doesn’t work?”
I nodded. “Yes, even then.”
Ermias jumped off the chair, cloth in hand, and ran down the hallway. I’m gonna clean the doorknobs! You said germs always get on those!”
I giggled, shaking my head at him, remembering something so small that I’ve told him.
We were a team and were doing just fine with it, just being the two of us. Why add someone else to the equation?
“Mama, these shoes are tight.” Ermias sat on the edge of the bed, kicking his feet, scowling at the brand-new sneakers I’d just bought him. He was being all squirmy and dramatic. His handsome face was twisted up like he’d just tasted lemons.
“They’re tight because they are new,” I told him, smoothing the collar of his shirt. “You’re going to be fresh today at Mahlia’s family reunion. I’m not about to let you show up looking like nobody loves you.”
Ermias flopped back on the bed with a groan, arms flinging as if I’d just ruined his life.
I laughed under my breath and stood up straight, brushing imaginary lint off my dress.
My good eye did a quick scan of both of us.
I looked decent. Mahlia bought us a family reunion shirt—army green with orange and white printing, and distressed jean shorts that stopped mid-thigh.
“Should I cover my eye with a patch?” I asked Ermias?”
He shook his head quickly. “No, Mama. I fight anyone who talks about you.” His tiny fist balled up.
I smiled at that. My baby had more heart than I did sometimes.
“I know you would,” I murmured, reaching over to brush his curls down my palm. “But we don’t have to fight anybody today, E, alright? Let’s go eat good and speak when spoken to, and leave before any family drama starts up.”
Ermias nodded like we’d just sealed a deal.
A lil’ over an hour later…
We pulled up right when Mahlia texted me that the reunion was starting. It was just enough time for the grill to be smokin’, spades games starting, and music to be on its third Keith Sweat song. Mahlia’s people were deep. Tents and folding chairs stretched across the massive backyard.
When we turned onto the street, the house sat like a statement on several acres.
There was a long, winding driveway full of cars.
Its exterior was a mix of smooth ivory stucco and dark stone accents.
Tall, black-framed windows lined the front, and a double door entry stood in the center beneath a towering archway.
Everything about the landscaping screamed intentional–trimmed hedges, a custom stone walkway, uplighting along the edges that would make the whole thing glow after sundown.
There was a three-car, black matte garage door.
Above the garage was a balcony, complete with sleek railing.
This was a damn house.
As soon as we entered the backyard by the side of the house, kids were already running in every direction, and a cousin who’d clearly been drinking since breakfast was dancing solo near the bounce house. Mahlia spotted me and Ermias the moment we stepped into the grass.
“Finally!” she squealed, arms wide as she rushed us. She was acting as if she hadn’t seen us the other day when she dropped off the shirts. Maybe she didn’t think I would actually come.
Mahlia hugged me tight and then did the same to Ermias.
“Auntie,” he whined, causing us to laugh.
“You look too good,” she said. “I see you didn’t cover your eye. I’m proud of you. You’ve met most of my family anyway. That eye doesn’t take away from anything. You fine as fuck, girl.”
We laughed again.
“Can I go play?” Ermias asked, jumping as if he were already ready to take off. I nodded.
“Be nice and keep your hands to yourself,” I reminded him, but he was already halfway gone in a full sprint.
Mahlia waved me off. “He’s good, girl. I promise.”
We began walking to where Mahlia’s mom, Mrs. Mena, was sitting, eyes on the kids.
I waved and spoke to her and everyone who was around. They all spoke back, but I couldn’t help but notice some of their eyes lingering longer on my face. I shielded my eyes from the sun and glanced around.
That’s when I saw him.
Tall, dark skin rich like coffee left on the stove too long.
His locs were pulled back. He was wearing blue jean shorts and was shirtless, his family reunion shirt draped over his shoulder.
His arms were crossed, tattoos covering both, along with his neck, stomach, and legs.
I caught myself staring and immediately glanced away.
I don’t know what made me look at him again. When I did, he was looking back.
He nodded once. Real subtle.