Page 40 of The Lockdown Mann

We played an early game today, which gives us plenty of time for dinner tonight. It’s a tradition that I’ve always been the one to help Sanaa cook. I love my time in the kitchen with her, learning all her recipes. I’ve perfected many of them over the years and make them for Ree and Tiana when I’m home.

I get the chilled potatoes out of the fridge. We boiled them earlier, but she always insists on them sitting in the fridge before we start adding all the ingredients for her famous potato salad.

“You got that under control?” she asks.

“You know it.”

“Good. I’ll start the catfish and hush puppies.”

“You know I’m not supposed to be eating like this, right?”

She gives me the smile I’m so familiar with, the one she gave me after Ree and I told her we were having a baby, the one she wore when I held Tiana for the first time, the one she had when I got into college and then was drafted to play professional football.

It’s the smile of a mom, and it immediately tackles my heart, making me feel like shit for lying to her, for not being able to make it work with Ree.

“You’ll be okay,” she says. “One meal won’t kill you.”

I chuckle. “I’ll tell Coach you said that.”

“I’ll tell him if you want. I’m not scared of that man.”

Another laugh falls from my lips. God, I love her. Will things be the same when she finds out about me and Ree? Will I lose her like I did my own mom? “I know you’re not. I don’t think you’re afraid of anything.”

She’s working on the fish, the oil getting hot, while I keep working on the potato salad as she says, “As long as I have my family, there’s nothing I can’t overcome.”

Our eyes meet. I hold her gaze, my heart beating too fast while I try to figure out if her words mean more than they do. It’s about her diagnosis, I’m sure, but my guilty conscience keeps trying to make this about me. “I love you, Mama,” I say. It wasn’t until a couple of years after Tiana was born that I started calling her Mama sometimes. It just felt right. Even before my mom left, Sanaa was a form of a mom to me, and after she left, Sanaa was the only one I had.

“I love you too, sweet boy. You know that. Even before the two of you saw it, I knew you and Ree were meant to be together. I couldn’t be happier that you’re the father of my grandbaby…that you’re my son. It brings me more peace than you know.”

The weight in my chest gets heavier and heavier with each of her words. I want to be her son more than anything in this world, and I don’t want to let her down. “I’m glad,” I tell her, eyes stinging. “And I couldn’t be happier either.”

She walks over and gives me a hug, the tremble in her body radiating into mine. The hug doesn’t last long, because that’s not Sanaa’s style. Seconds later, she’s pulling away and pointing toward the bowl. “Get going on that.”

I give her another laugh. “Yes, ma’am.”

We finish cooking, and then the whole family sits down at the table together to eat.

It’s delicious, like always.

We only stay for about an hour after dinner. I have practice on Monday, a weights session, and preparing for our first game of the regular season.

I’m in the backyard after Tiana goes to sleep when I hear the door open behind me and Ree comes out.

She sits beside me on the same outdoor couch, our legs touching, we’re so close.

“This is hard,” she says.

“Yeah, it is. When we were cooking, she told me how she always knew you and me were meant to be and how happy she is that I’m her son.”

Ree sighs. “You’ll still be her son, Oak. You know that, right?”

Do I? My brain tells me I do. I know Sanaa, know she loves me, but I’ve already lost one mom. I don’t want to lose another one. Still, I say, “Yeah, I know.”

“I know we need to tell her, tell everyone, but I just… I’m not ready.”

I wrap an arm around her, much like I did with my daughter earlier. “Me either, Ree.” I want this. I know I want this, but it’s also hard to know everything is changing, especially when we’re just now adjusting to Sanaa’s illness as well.

“I’ve, um…been talking to someone. It’s nothing, really. Just friends. He works at the youth center where I volunteer. He doesn’t know about you and me. It makes me nervous to tell anyone, but I like talking to him. It’s exciting. We never had that. It’s just been you and me our whole lives.”