Read Online My Son Marshall, My Son Eminem by Annette Witheridge, Debbie Nelson - Free Book Online Page B

mothered him to pieces.
    Nathan’s front four baby teeth had to be pulled after he contracted a rare bacterial infection. It was heartbreaking—he was only two and a half years old and had beautiful white teeth. His adult teeth didn’t grow until he was nearly eight. Until the age of three, he refused to be parted from his bottle, sucking on it even when it was empty. I tried throwing it away, but somehow he always managed to retrieve it.
    Fred called once: he wanted to come back. But I couldn’t forgive him again. He’d left me pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen. Then his mother begged me to take him back—she didn’t like his girlfriend, Tina. I told her he’d made his bed and he could lie in it. There was also the issue of child support. He’d declared bankruptcy to avoid paying my hospital bills when I was pregnant. He didn’t pay a penny until 1995. Even then he claimed hardships to the court, and I couldn’t count on the money, which was thirty-five dollars every two weeks and only ever came off and on. Fred continually asked for his rights to his son to be severed, which I refused, as he had gotten off lightly as it was. But he did start paying maintenance right before Nathan’s sixteenth birthday.
    Thank God my doctor had given me something to calm my nerves—I don’t think I could have got through the many trials and tribulations without some help. I’ll never forget Dr. B. telling baby Nathan, “Listen, little man, when you’re grown up, if you see your dad, give him a good punch on the nose for me.”
    Marshall loved our duplex apartment in Savannah. It was brand-new, and he had the entire top floor to himself. But just like Marshall after he was beaten by DeAngelo Bailey, I remained scared that the crazy man who’d attacked me when I was pregnant would return.
    It was time to return to Michigan, but Marshall did not want to go. He threatened to run away, begged me to let him stay behind and get a job—anything to stay in Missouri. Even though he loved Nathan, he still had flashes of jealousy. He accused me of ignoring him and giving Nate too much attention. Threatening to run away was his way of fighting back. I insisted he was too young to live on his own, and asked how he was going to earn a living.
    “I’ll get a job in a factory or on a farm,” he said. I knew he wasn’t serious—he was just rebelling.
    It was a tough few weeks, but eventually Marshall came around. Once we were back in Michigan, he soon reconnected with his old friends and started to make new ones.
    Our house was always full of kids. I joined Parents Without Partners, a group for the divorced and separated that encouraged families to get to know each other. There were picnics, lake beach parties, and barbecues.
    I soon fell for a landscape gardener called B. J. He had several kids but saw them only rarely. I noticed how good B. J. was around my boys. They were both frightened of water, and neither really wanted to learn how to swim. But B. J. encouraged Nathan to splash about in the lake, wading out with him hand in hand. I was very strict about the men in my life—my kids were everything—and I gauged how they treated my boys and their pets. And, of course, they had to be sober. B. J. passed every test at the time.
    B. J. had been badly hurt by his last wife, but that didn’t stop him from proposing to me after just three months. Marshall was fifteen, and I valued his opinion when it came to the men in my life. He told me to go for it.
    We were married by B. J.’s minister. He was a big, surly man who asked if I was sure I wanted to go through with it. I thought that was a bit odd. He did the ceremony in a small office. I wore a long pink satin dress. B. J. had on a suit and tie.
    But there was something preying on Marshall’s mind when we got home that night.
    “Where’s he sleeping?” he asked, glaring at B. J.
    “My room,” I said.
    “Oh, no, he’s not!” Marshall screamed. “He can sleep outside in