Page 25 of Bodyguard My Heart

“Close enough, now move so I can walk,” he demanded. My skin crawled with irritation as I wished he would go back to being silent. I moved to the side to support his back as he took a few steps toward the door, both of our eyes on the ground being sure he didn’t miss a step. Neither of us saw the front of the home open.

“My God!” a woman’s voice cried, making us both pop our heads up quickly.

“It’s me, Gran! Demetrius!”

“I know who you are, boy,” she replied. I stared at his grandmother. She wore a head scarf and donned a floral night gown as she stood on the porch with her hand over her mouth. Her eyes were bright with warmth. I took in her face and every wrinkle told a story of wisdom. I was enamored by her, wanting to know more.

“Demetrius! Mwen pa ka kwe.” She spoke what I assumed to be Creole and her Haitian accent was beautiful.

“Se mwen ki kwe li,” Demetrius replied back. I didn’t even know he was fluent in Creole. I’d never heard him speak in full-blown sentences. Demetrius had grown up in America all his life. I’d always known he was Haitian on his father’s side, but Demetrius didn’t really embrace the culture. I stared at him in awe as he spoke with his grandma. His accent was actually a little sexy.

“Jean Pierre, Claude. Go get that old wheelchair. Prese, prese!” She turned and called in the house before coming down the stairs and approaching us.

“Oh my God! What you doing here, boy? What has happened to you?” She turned to look at me. “And who is this beautiful girl?”

I threw my hand up to wave but was completely thrown off by Demetrius’s words.

“This is my ex-wife, Samara. The one I told you about. Samara, this is my grandma, Esther Baptiste. Everybody calls her Gran.” My head cocked to the side at his introduction as I embarrassedly lowered my hand. Our dynamic had been weird, but introducing me as his ex-wife was a new level of petty for even him. He could have just said friend or something.

“Royale’s sister? The picture Fabian showed me doesn’t do you any justice. You’re more beautiful in person.” She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me warmly before releasing me.

“Nobody can humble you like a Haitian grandmother.” Demetrius smirked. Besides the fifty curse words I wanted to scream at him, I had nothing to say.

“Why you divorce my Meechie?” she questioned. “What you do, boy? Is it the hair?”

“It’s definitely the hair.” I flicked one of his dreads. Now it was my turn to laugh.

“I told you to cut that mess, boy. You cut or I cut it for you. This a nice girl. She want a nice-looking guy. Now you got Fabian wearing this mess too.”

Demetrius’s facial expression and demeanor changed at the mention of Fabian. Gran must have sensed it because she took his face in her hands. She studied him for a bit.

“You’re in trouble, aren’t you, boy?”

“I messed up, Gran! I messed up.” I knew he was referring to Fabian. He was holding so much guilt for his death.

“I see it in your eyes.” She stared at him, her facial expression slowly mimicking his.

“Fabian’s —”

“Shh!” She put her pointer finger up to his mouth. “Let’s get inside. Get you and Samara settled. I’m cooking breakfast. Then we’ll talk.” As if on cue, the screen door echoed, and I looked up to see two men who favored Demetrius come running out of the house. One appeared to be older, around the age of Gran, and the other looked to be a teenager.

“Zoe!” The older man shouted a Haitian term I’d heard before. “Look what the cat dragged in.” He stopped at the door and narrowed his eyes at Demetrius.

“You’re all banged up, ain’t you, boy?”

“You let this beautiful woman kick yo’ ass?” the younger man said as he came down the stairs carrying an old wheelchair.

I watched Demetrius’s mood change as the corners of his mouth turned up, and he gave him a handshake and brotherlyhug. This had to be bittersweet for him. He was happy to see his family but saddened by the news he had to share.

“It’s good to see y’all too. This is my is my cousin Claude, and that old man up there is my grandpa, Jean Luke. Call him Grandpapa.”

I put my hand up again to wave. I wasn’t usually shy, but I’d never met anyone’s grandparents before.

“Is this your wife, Meech?” Claude approached us.

“Ex-wife,” Demetrius said again. He was really testing my patience now.

“Actually, we are still married. I never got to turn in the papers.” I rolled my eyes as I stomped away from him. In this moment, his stupid ass could fall over for all I care.