Love Unchosen

From Vashton

“Listen, it’s not like me to follow people home. I need some answers about, about Foster. I just want to make sure he’s is alright. Is he going to be staying with you?”

Romeyo shrugged. “Fair enough,” he admitted. “But I’m curious about a few things too.” She stood there without protest so he went on, “I’m curious to know why you’re concerned about him? What is he to you?” Romeyo knew Foster would be home at any moment and a curious streak in him wanted to see Vashton’s reaction to that. In a few seconds with the two of them in the room, he felt he would have all the answers he needed.

Vashton saw the questions, the concern, the curiousness and though it was unfounded, she saw skepticism, critical scrutiny and doubts about her person, her character tramp across his face. “I don’t want to hurt Foster, despite what you’ve been told, or heard from David or whatever, all right?”

“I haven’t heard anything from David, he’s dead.” Payeton said matter of factly.

“What?” Vashton didn’t feel as if she could take yet another piece of news about death or dying. “Then Foster has no one. His family just wiped out like that?” Vashton cried.

“Something like that.” Romeyo offered nonchalantly. She quickly forget that he was family too. He moved into the living room and took a seat.

“Could we just stop this?” She grew angrier by the minute. With Vashton Watts, there was a thing or two Romeyo Payeton needed to learn about her and that was that sadness never stayed with her long before she was on the rampage. She put her sadness aside and temper replaced it as she moved to follow him into the living room. “Could you answer my questions with a yes or a no?” He shrugged his shoulders and nodded. “If you are the guardian, how do you feel about raising a child you barely know?”

“Yes.”

A desire to jump up and down in frustration was warrant, but Vashton resisted.

“How do you even know him?” Romeyo asked.

“I was a friend of his mothers?”

“And that’s all?” he raised a skeptical eyebrow.

She bit her tongue and nodded, “I helped her with a business plan for a catering business she wanted to start.”

“And what happened to the business?”

“I don’t know, we grew apart after an...”

“An incident,” Payeton finished for her. “What kind of incident?” he inquired further.

“A misunderstanding,” Vashton clarified. She took a deep calming breath and looked at him. “This isn’t about her. She’s dead.” Her breath caught and she looked away before regaining her composure. “She died and you know she couldn’t even tell me that she was sick. A postcard, a letter, hey I’m dying over here but what the heck, see you in the rapture!” Vashton shouted mad at herself, mad at her friend for leaving the earth and not telling each other how much they meant to another. Then again, Vashton regretted everything. She just wanted to know that she’d been buried, that there had been a service. That someone, a loved one had stepped in to take care of Michelle and Foster. A thousand more questions ran through Vaston’s head, about Michelle’s funeral, the burial. How did Foster take the passing of his mother and then his father? How in the world did the child cope with not one but two deceased parents? And who was helping him deal with this entire situation? “This is about Foster. That’s all I care about. Okay?” Vashton said calmly. “I just want to know he’s all right. That you will do everything you can to raise him right.” Vashton continued.</