Since those were the first words out of Mrs. Redmond’s mouth and she’d barely let them into her house, Damon was about five seconds from bolting. He’d driven Sasha to her mother’s house. He’d been in the house many times before, but never really noticed the red and white decorations in the living room before. He’d been concentrating too hard on Sasha’s bedroom and listening in case somebody came home and caught them. He’d also never been here when her mother was at home. Damon felt vague shame at having disrespected this woman’s house. He turned his full attention on Mrs. Redmond. She was a small, light skinned woman who probably looked very much like her daughter, thought Damon, when her face wasn’t all screwed up with rage.
“Ma,” said Sasha, patiently, as if her mother had not just insulted her. “This is Damon Hamilton. He is my baby’s daddy.”
“Oh,” said her mother, looking at Damon narrowly. “The baby daddy is here. This is the boy that couldn’t keep it in his pants.”
“Ma,” said Sasha, looking desperate. “Please.”
“Miss Benson,” said Damon, fighting not to stammer. “I’m going to stand by Sasha and take care of my child.”
“Like you stood by her all this time?” asked Mrs. Benson.
“No, ma’am,” said Damon. “I didn’t know she was pregnant until she called me a few days ago. Then, I was sick. I’m really sorry”
That seemed to make her even angrier. So red in the face that Damon feared she was about to burst a blood vessel, Mrs. Benson took two steps to the right and smacked Sasha on the shoulder with the flat of her hand. With a cry, Sasha staggered to the side. Instinctively, Damon put out a hand and steadied her.
“Yes, you both are just as sorry as can be. All you little knot heads fornicating and spreading your seed around ought to be ashamed,” snarled the woman. She rounded on Sasha again. “And you, little Miss hot pants. You even sure this is the right boy?”
“Yes, ma, I’m sure it’s the right boy,” said Sasha, looking furious. “I’m no slut. I just made a mistake.”
“Mistake my behind,” said her mother.
“Ma,” said Sasha. “You said it was okay to come back home. If it’s not, I got no place else to go. Damon, could I get a ride to the shelter downtown?”
“Where you gonna go?” screamed Mrs. Redmond. “You gonna tell everyone how I didn’t do my Christian duty and kicked out my poor pregnant child? For the second time? I don’t think so.”
She approached Damon as through she was going to repeat her actions but his expression must have stopped her. Damon took a step back. He didn’t want to fight with the woman, but he wasn’t standing still while she hit him, either.
“Oh, you gonna jump bad on me, punk,” she said.
“Maybe I should come back when you’ve calmed down a little,” he said.
“Calm down? Calm down?” shouted Mrs. Benson, waving her hand in his face. “I’ll calm down when you take care of your responsibilities and get this heifer off my insurance. I rebuke you, both of you.”
“I’d better go,” said Damon, making a move towards the door.
“Don’t you walk away from me when I’m talking to you!” screamed Sasha’s mother. Damon backed away from her.
“You coming?” he asked Sasha.
“Walk out that door, and don’t come back,” said Mrs. Benson to Sasha. “I will kick the dust off of the back of my shoes over you like Jesus kicked the dust of Satan off of the back of his sandals.” Sasha froze and looked at Damon with a pleading expression on her face.
“Call me tomorrow,” said Damon. And he nearly ran out of the door. He heard it slam behind him. He got into his car and drove down the block. After a few minutes he stopped and parked the car. He needed to compose himself before he spoke to his parents. He reached into his pocket and took out his inhaler. In the past few days he’d used it more than he had all year. He took a puff and felt his tight chest loosen. He laid his head back against the headrest for a few minutes and watched the snow fall in big fluffy white flakes. It was going to be a white Christmas.
God, what was going to happen to him?
Brielle
Brielle and Kyzie were at the mall with Sammie. Sammie was looking for fly shoes as usual. Brielle was thinking about what she wanted to get Damon for Christmas.
“I don’t know what to get,” said Brielle. “Everything is so expensive, or way too personal.”
Kyzie snorted, “Yeah, I’m sure mommy would flip out if you were to buy him some boxers or something.”
“Sammie,” said Brielle, ignoring her sister. “What do you think?”
“Well,” said Sammie. “Khalil is really into art, so I thought that I’d buy him some really nice art supplies and a cool baseball cap.”
“That is a good idea,” said Brielle.
“Well, what about books?” asked Kyzie. “All you ever see Damon doing is reading. It’s a wonder the boy doesn’t go blind.”
“Yeah,” said Brielle. “That’s good.” The three of them headed for the bookstore.
“I can’t believe that you and Damon have been going out for almost four months,” said Sammie. “Khalil and I have been talking for about seven months and it seems like forever.”
“That is like forever,” said Kyzie. “And he is so boring. Damon, I mean. Khalil is okay.”
“Damon is not boring,” said Brielle, feeling compelled to defend him. They had had several dates and it had gotten hot and heavy on several occasions. Only lack of space and the cold weather had preserved Brielle’s virginity, since necking in the car was as far as they could go.
“You say that because you’re infatuated with his pretty face,” said Kyzie. She fluttered her eyelashes at Brielle and sighed. “Oh, Damon is so fine.”
“Did you read my diary?” asked Brielle, outraged.
Kyzie rolled her eyes.
“As if I would,” she said, disgusted. “I’ll bet
