Free Accept Me by J. L. Mac

like that, I’m swathed in everything Damon Cole. Even if for just a moment, I forget the world and every person in it. For just this moment it’s only me and Damon and the connection we share.
    “Oh, gimme a break,” Grams laments in mock disgust. She’s entered the foyer with her duct tape-adorned walker, a backpack slung over one shoulder, and her reading glasses dangling from her neck.
    Damon’s deep laugh resounds against my lips before he breaks away to smile broadly at the woman who raised him. He looks back to me and gives me a chaste peck. “Gotta go, baby. Call you later. Bye, Grams,” he says on his way out of our door.
    “Okay!” I call out. “Love you!”
    “Love you too!” he shouts back.
    Once the door closes, I look to Grams and can’t help but laugh. “What’s with the backpack? Going back to school?”
    “No, Miss Smartypants. I’ve got some pictures and things for Noni to look at.”
    “Yeah, I guess she does have a lot to catch up on,” I admit.
    It’s then that it really sinks in that Noni has missed almost thirty-three years of her child’s life. She’s given up so much. She missed watching him grow and learn and turn from a baby to a child to a man. If I ever have a child, I can’t imagine missing everything. Even the thought of not seeing a baby that I made with Damon is enough to spawn a small ache in my chest. I don’t like the thought. Not at all.
     

     
    Noni beat us to work this morning and it’s beginning to look like something I should expect. More often than not (with the exception of yesterday, really), I get to work and find Noni waiting to be let in. She’s all kinds of dependable. Every day she even looks the same. Her brown hair is brushed smooth and pinned back with a hair comb. Her clothes are secondhand, but they’re professional and always pressed and clean. She smells of lavender perfume. Her dark brown eyes are lightly rimmed with eyeliner, her lashes coated with a modest amount of mascara. I can’t say that she needs much more than that. She’s a beautiful woman in spite of her circumstances. Had I looked closer before, I think I might have seen my Big Man in Noni. He has the same long eyelashes, dark brown hair, and brown eyes, though his are more of a honey brown whereas Noni’s remind me of melted chocolate.
    I should just give her a manager’s key instead of letting her wait outside with her bag lunch, purse and travel mug every morning.
    “G’morning, Noni,” I greet as I pull the store keys from my bag.
    Grams shuffles right over to her and wraps Noni up in a hug that seems to be reserved for mothers. I’m not entirely sure how to even describe that type of hug but I do know that it’s lingering and gentle and full of secret whispered exchanges in each other’s ears. I take a moment to admire these two women, distractedly placing the key into the door and turning until I hear the slide of the deadbolt. I may not have my own mother around anymore, but I’ve gained two amazing women whom any person would be proud to call their mom. They are perfect examples of what a strong woman is. I idolize them both.
    Noni smiles her typical sweet fashion. “Morning, Jo.”
    Grams shuffles into the store first, followed by Noni, as I prop the door open with an outstretched foot.
    “I’ve brought the pictures I told you about,” Grams says to Noni, covering her heart with her hand and smiling ruefully. “I’m excited to look at them. It’s been a while.”
    “You two go on into the office. I’ve got that table guy coming at 10,” I say as I check the watch on my wrist. It isn’t Maman’s watch anymore and I’m still getting used to it. It’s a pricey replacement though. My new Rolex matches Damon’s (though I’m not sure much is the same besides the brand and the fact that it’s a watch); it’s a gorgeous, shiny rose gold with diamonds embellishing the face. It’s simple but elegant and I must admit that I love it. I tried to refuse,