Free Vérité by Rachel Blaufeld

so she just lived her life. Wouldn’t let me leave school or think about putting off college.”
    “Of course not,” I said. “I’m sure she was incredibly proud of your accomplishments.” I tried to be supportive, unsure about what I should or shouldn’t say as I pretended I knew something about someone loving me.
    “Momma never finished college herself. She started, but then she had me and her plate was full. She did the best she could.” A tear fell and landed on his shirtsleeve, the fabric soaking up the evidence of his pain.
    “I wish there was something I could say. I’ve never dealt with this, all this emotion or pain. I’m sorry,” I said lamely, feeling completely out of my element.
    “It’s okay. Me neither. But now I gotta go home and pack up her stuff. Guess it’ll give me some closure or shit.”
    With that he stood up and walked toward the back hall. I hesitated, not sure whether he wanted me to stay or follow. I did know that I was deathly afraid of making the wrong choice.
    Unable to move, I watched him turn a corner, his gorgeous body just a memory. After another minute, he walked back toward the kitchen carrying a picture frame. His posture was stiff and his expression stoic, but his mood was anything but. He was somber, and I found myself missing the normally happy and sweet Tiberius.
    “This is—I mean was—my mom,” he said, handing me the picture.
    I held the edge of the black lacquer frame with a shaky hand, taking in the sight in front of me. There was Tiberius wearing his prep school basketball uniform. The photo must have been recent—he was tall, fully developed, a grown man with a wide smile. He had his arm wrapped around a woman about my height. She was curvy with big boobs and an even bigger smile. Wrapped in Ty’s arms and tucked into his armpit, she looked as proud as could be in a royal-blue blouse. A lump formed in my throat as I ran my finger across the glass, circling her curly dark blond hair.
    “She’s beautiful,” I said. “I can see how happy she is here. It must have been something for her, seeing you reach for the stars. You can see she knew she’d done something right in raising you, which I’m sure wasn’t easy.” My breath lodged deep in my throat, hindered by the foot I’d just stuck all the way in my mouth.
    He reached over and took the frame, taking his time staring at the picture. “Nope, it wasn’t. Bein’ a white woman in the hood wasn’t easy, but it was the only place her son was accepted, so she did it. In the end, the whole community respected the hell out of her.”
    “Do you know where your dad is? I mean, do you think he’d want to know she was gone?”
    Tiberius took a step back and I panicked once again, but he just set the picture down. Then he braced his hands on the counter on either side of me, and looked down at my face.
    “Tingly, I’m gonna tell you something I don’t share much, but I’m feeling sorry for myself today. He would not care. My momma was a passing phase for him. Most women were until he went to prison for armed robbery, ’bout the same time I started high school. I only knew ’cause I caught my mom reading ’bout it online.”
    “Oh,” I said, feeling a tear spill over my eyelashes. Crap, I was an emotional basket case over someone else’s life. Was I getting my period?
    Or is this what truly caring for someone is like?
    Ty’s accent deepened, the hood revealed in his speech as syllables dropped and vowels ran together. “When I was little, we’d see him ’round, always with a new lady on his arm. Each time would be worse for Momma. Eventually, I’d catch him outta the corner my eye and steer my mom the other way.”
    His expression fierce, he grasped my arms. “Now you get why I shoulda defended you to the boys? I may not be all white or black, but I’m a fucking man who knows better than to watch a woman get ridiculed. It’s no excuse, but I never really fit in anywhere but playing ball, so