by L. Divine
Approaching the long driveway leading toward my mom’s apartment, I see her gray Mazda parked in its stall. I wonder if she’ll let me drive it when I get my license. I forgot to tell her about my dad paying for my driving lessons. I know she’ll have something to say about that. Maybe I should save that information for next weekend.
“Hey, baby. How was your day?” my mom says, sprawled across the cozy couch. She knows Jeremy’s picking me up today so she’s decided to lounge until she goes to work tomorrow morning, I guess. Ever since things went sour with Ras Joe, she’s been chilling at the house more. Yesterday she was out with her homegirl Vivica for a girl’s day. But, unlike my mom, Vivica’s married and has children at home, leaving her little time to play.
“It was okay,” I say, closing the door behind me before heading straight for the bathroom. I’ve had to pee since I clocked out, but I didn’t want to give Marty the opportunity to say anything else to me. It was hard enough following Summer’s advice of making it easy for myself by being unresponsive to Marty’s stupid comments, but I’ve been at my wit’s end all day. It can’t be good for me or my bladder to hold my tongue like that. But until I figure out another way to make some cash flow, I’ll have to take all the shit she shovels my way.
“Jayd, what time is Jeremy picking you up?” my mom yells from the couch. We can practically hear each other breathe, the walls are so thin in this apartment.
“In about half an hour,” I say, washing my hands and quickly undressing. As I open the door and head for her room where my weekend bag is, I can hear my mom pouring herself a drink in the kitchen. I’d bet money it’s Bailey’s Irish Cream. I quickly change into some Old Navy jeans and an orange GAP shirt. We’re supposed to hang out by the pier and have coffee, so low key is definitely the way to go.
“How are your studies going?” my mom says, noticing me put my spirit notebook into my backpack beside the couch before finding my sandals and slipping them on. If I could, I’d wear them every day of the year. “Has Mama given you any new assignments?” she says, reclaiming her position on the couch and forcing me to sit in a chair at the dining table across the room.
“Well, sort of.” I recall the writing exercise she gave me last week. “Mama told me to focus on what I want most and write it down in the present tense,” I say, doubtful of the results. I’m not too good at any assignment that requires me to be still.
“Ah, yes. The law of attraction.” My mom sips her brown elixir. “The shit works, I’m telling you. Usually we just make it work for the wrong reasons,” she says, getting comfortable. I grab a bag of Doritos from the large wicker basket on the table full of snacks. My mom’s the snack queen. I walk back across the room to retrieve my notebook from my backpack and thumb through the notes involving Marty I made today at lunch. I’m concentrating so hard on her no longer being my manager I’m surprised she made it through the day. If this stuff really worked, she’d be long gone.
“So, it worked for you to write down what you wanted to happen in any given situation?” I say, reviewing my words. Damn, my handwriting is awful. I can barely make out what I’ve written.
“Well, yeah, but not in a positive way. I usually wrote down negative shit. Like, for example, I remember I was dating this fool in high school, and he thought he was gone play me with some chick up the block,” she says, sipping her Bailey’s and getting real loose. I love it when my mom tells me about her school days. I can’t believe how much of the same drama we go through from generation to generation. I wonder if this happens in all families or if it’s just a Williams Woman trait. “I wrote him such a nasty letter saying that I hope she would give him syphilis and make his penis fall off and all kinds of stuff.”
“Did it fall off?” I say, as my phone vibrates, signaling a text. It’s Jeremy, saying he’ll be here in ten minutes.
“Just about. I know he got some sort of sexually transmitted disease, and it’s one that will never go away. He didn’t bother me again after that,” my mom said, her voice low and guttural, almost frightening. I’m glad I’m not one of her enemies. I hope she’s thinking about something similar happening to Ras Joe.
“So, what was negative about that?” I say. “It sounds like he got what he deserved.”
“Yes, but so did the girl, and I didn’t wish anything on her, not really. That’s the thing about dealing with the negative side of our gifts,” she says wearily. “It usually hits its target, and then some, because of the power of your intentional thoughts. When you focus a lot of passion on something, you give it energy, and that can backfire on you.”
“Wow.” I don’t know what else to say. My mom’s sitting here telling me that her thoughts made this dude catch something and pass it on to the trick he was fooling around with. That doesn’t sound so bad to me. “So how exactly did you do this?” I say, ready to take notes. Maybe I can have similar residual luck with Tania but without affecting Jeremy.
That’s what I’m trying to tell you; negative always hits more than the intended victim, my mom says without speaking. Damn, I still forget she can do that.
“Mom, just talk to me without reading my mind,” I say. It was enough having to be careful what I say around her, now I have to be careful what I think, too.
Okay, she says, still on the telepathic plane. Seeing my frustration, my mom stops and comes back down to my level. “You have to let me practice sometimes.”
“I’m actually proud of you for reclaiming your power, even if it only works on me.” I wish she’d stuck with her studies, like she’s advising me to do. I think my mom’s very powerful in her own right, and she could use some of that power to help a sistah out.
“Well, thank you very much,” she says, her green eyes glistening in the setting afternoon sun. The time recently changed, falling one hour behind, so it’s starting to get dark earlier. “Learn from my mistakes, Jayd,” she says, placing her empty glass on the coffee table in front of her and curling up into the fetal position, ready to sleep the rest of the day away. My phone vibrates again, indicating Jeremy’s arrival.
“Is White boy here?” she says, smiling at herself. Why is everyone hating on Jeremy lately?
Because we can sense your true feelings, even without you saying them, my mom says, again not moving her lips.
“Mom, I love Jeremy.” As the words slip from my mouth for the first time, I realize that they are only half true. I love a lot of things about Jeremy. But I don’t have the same feeling as I did when I first felt love for Rah, which hasn’t gone anywhere. Can I love more than one person at a time? I know it’s more than infatuation, like I had with KJ. But when Jeremy told me he loved me, it really threw me off. Not so much because of the short amount of time we’ve been together, but more because if you love someone, you’ll do anything for them—even if you’re just friends. And that isn’t how Jeremy rolls at all.
“That boy’s just plain selfish, if you ask me.” I don’t recall asking my mom anything about him, but I need to get downstairs. I text him a message saying my mom’s asleep and I will meet him at the car. “But most men are in one way or another. You’ll figure out how you really feel about him in time.” Here we go with this time thing again. Why can’t I just know all the answers to my questions right now?
Because that would take the lessons out of life, Jayd. And that’s no life at all, she communicates telepathically before drifting off. I walk over and kiss my mom’s ebony cheek. Her skin’s so soft and flawless. I hope I look like her when I’m in my thirties. I pick up my bags next to the couch and head out the door. As I lock the multiple locks, I remember the first time I went to Jeremy’s house and saw his huge oak door with one lock. We are very different, maybe too different. But I’m still willing to give this relationship a try, no matter what others may think I think.
When I get downstairs, Jeremy’s propped up against the hood of his car, casually waiting and blocking the driveway.
“What’s up, babe?” he says, walking toward me and t
aking my bags before kissing me on the lips. He must be chewing Juicy Fruit, one of my favorite gums. Following him to the passenger’s side, I get comfortable as he slides my bags into the backseat before closing my door. He’s loudly playing Creed, causing the other tenants to look out their windows as if to say, “What the hell is all that noise?” If it was Ludacris or Snoop, no one would give it another thought. But the fact that it’s alternative music causes heads to turn.
“Can we turn that down a little until we pull out?” I say, feeling a little self-conscious. I’ve never felt like this when Nigel or Rah picks me up, and their music’s always hella loud. But the attention is making me feel like a target on a dartboard. Jeremy definitely can’t do this when he takes me back to Mama’s tonight. I’d never hear the end of it.
“Sure,” he says, sitting in the driver’s seat and lowering the volume before closing the door. “Is everything all right?” Jeremy looks concerned.
“Yeah. Why do you ask?” Why am I lying? I should just come out and straight ask him what I want to know. He doesn’t have to know how I got my inside information. I just have to be tactful with my approach. But Jeremy’s right, I’m tense and for many reasons. Not having Nellie to vibe with is really throwing me off. Even with all her princess qualities, she’s still my best friend, and I miss her. Maybe if I send her a text real quick she’ll hit me back.
Hey Nellie. Just checking on you. Hit me when you get this.
I send, still awaiting Jeremy’s reply.
“I don’t know. Lately you seem a little high-strung, like something’s bothering you,” he says, feigning ignorance. He can’t be serious.
“Well, for starters, your former fling has stolen my best friend away from me, and she’s trying to get you back, too,” I say as we back out of the driveway and head toward the beach. It’s a warm evening, but as soon as the sun sets completely, the night chill will hit. I’m glad I brought my sweater—the same sweater I let Nellie borrow over the summer and she didn’t get it back to me until the first day of school. That’s my girl.
“Jayd, you can’t let Tania get to you, I already told you that,” Jeremy says, turning Creed back up, but not so loud that we can’t hear each other.
“Is it really that simple?” Maybe everything in his world actually is that cut-and-dry. To have a baby on the way, he seems remarkably calm. A little too calm, if you ask me. “Why doesn’t shit bother you that would worry the hell out of a normal person?” I say, realizing we’re heading for Palos Verdes. “And where are you taking me?”
“Well, which question do you want me to answer first?” he says, trying to be a smart-ass, but I’m not in the mood.
“Take your pick,” I say, returning his attitude tenfold.
“Well, my dad decided to have a barbecue at the last minute, so I was hoping you wouldn’t mind coming back to my house for dinner instead of going out,” he says, casually dropping a bomb on me. I’m in no mood to deal with his dysfunctional family today. What the hell?
“Why didn’t you tell me before now!” I yell, practically drowning out the smooth tunes. How could he spring a surprise like this on me?
“Well, because I just found out when I left to come and get you,” Jeremy says, not realizing how upset he’s just made me. “What’s the big deal?” he adds, trying to make light of the situation.
“The big deal is that you didn’t tell me about it, so I’m not prepared. I’m dressed for coffee by the pier, not dinner with the family.” Rah would never pull no shit like this. He would just know better. And so would KJ, for that matter. It must be a cultural thang.
“Nobody cares what you look like. My parents love you.” Now, he should know both of those statements are the furthest thing from the truth. His mother’s a strange wench, and his dad’s always drunk, so who knows what he really thinks. But whenever I’m around them I feel like I’m on display.
“Jeremy, can we skip the social hour and just kick it, you and me?” I plea. Maybe if I’m sweet he’ll let me have my way. We have too much unsettled business, and we need to be alone to discuss it all.
“Jayd, stop being so self-conscious. As quick as you are to tell people off, I’d think you could care less about what people think of you,” Jeremy says, uncovering some buried resentment of his own. I knew he was embarrassed by my mouth, but I had no idea he was still upset about it.
“Are you serious?” I say, ready to go off but trying to keep my cool. “You can’t be comparing you not telling me where we’re going so that I would know what to expect to me getting into it with Tania the other day.”
“All I’m saying is that you can’t have it both ways. Either you care what people think about you or you don’t.” I think things are just that simple from his point of view. His crystal-blue eyes sparkle as the last of the sun hides in the horizon, allowing the evening to begin. We’re almost up the hill, entering into Palos Verdes Estates. I’m sure many people envy the folks up in here. But personally, I’d rather be at home.
“Here we are,” Jeremy says, pulling up to the huge lawn in front of his house. The smell of the grill makes my stomach growl, even if I may protest the whole thing. The rest of our ride was uncomfortably silent. Jeremy can be so self-righteous sometimes it drives me crazy. He thinks he knows the best way always, and that’s just not so. I admit, I do have a slight temper. But keeping stuff bottled up for too long can be hazardous to your health. And a sistah can’t afford any unnecessary ulcers.
“Can you pass me my sweater from the back?” I say as Jeremy exits the Mustang, walking around to my side with the sweater in tow. He can be so sweet yet such a jackass. I think I have a pattern of choosing similar boyfriends, no matter their skin tone.
“Here you go,” he says, slipping the petite cardigan over my shoulders and closing the car door. There’s a definite synergy between us, I’ll admit. He smells so good to me all the time. And I love our conversations. But lately it seems all we ever talk about are things we disagree about. And there’s more of that likely to come at the barbecue.
“Jayd,” his mom says as we approach the side gate. She gives me a big hug and drags me off into the picturesque backyard. This lady must spend a fortune on her gardens alone, not to mention the cascading waterfalls, the pond and the spacious grass area, where Jeremy’s brother and several other neighbors are engaged in a game of football.
“Hey, babe, I’ll be right back,” Jeremy says, running off toward the impromptu field and leaving me alone with his mother. Oh, I’ll never forgive him for this one. Luckily I see China across the yard. She catches my eye and starts to walk over and rescue me from the shrew but not before she can get a few jabs in.
“So, Jayd, I see you’re becoming acclimated to the beach crowd,” Mrs. Weiner says, eyeing me like she’s sizing up a slave on the auction block. This woman’s energy is familiar in an ancient-evil kind of way. She reminds me a lot of Mrs. Bennett, but at least her perfume smells nicer.
“It’s not hard to do,” I say. The last thing I want to do is engage with this woman right now or a bunch of the rich kids from school. It seems like every family on the block is here, and there’s enough food to feed a hundred more. When we have barbecues on our block, it usually means Daddy fires up the grill, one of my uncles brings the radio outside, we fill up the ice chest and there’s our barbecue. These folks went out and hired a caterer, hired a deejay, set up different seating arrangements and have servers and a full bar—and this was supposedly last minute. It must be nice to live on the other side of poverty. But as Mama says, under-appreciation of one’s abundance leads to idle time, and idle time is evil’s playground. If she’s right, then this must be their gymboree.
“Hey, Jayd,” China says, carrying her small Yorkshire terrier dressed in beachwear, matching her attire perfectly. It seems I’m the only one fully clothed and without a dog. I know I’m in lala land now. The heating lamps installed throughout the space make it unnaturally warm out here, and everyone’s taking full advantage
of the mixed blessing.
“Hey, girl. What’s up?” I say, petting her mini pooch. “Don’t forget about Wednesday.” I remind her of my free day from the AP meetings.
“Girl, I got you. Hi, Judy,” she says, smiling at Jeremy’s mother, who’s now fully distracted by the now empty martini glass in her hand. No matter how much I may not like her, I would never feel comfortable calling her by her first name. I guess that’s just how I was raised.
“Hello, China, dear,” says, her Southern drawl now a slur.
“Jayd, let’s go watch the game. My boyfriend’s playing, too,” China says, leading me toward the grassy area and away from Mrs. Weiner, who’s now headed toward the bar for another round, joining her husband and their friends, who seem to be having a good time. I guess I can’t fully blame Jeremy for being a product of his environment. I’m just not used to this version of normal.
“So what’s up with your girl Nellie?” China says as we continue our arm-linked hike up the hill toward the game of shirts versus skins, where, unfortunately for me, Jeremy’s still got his shirt on. Damn.
“What made you ask me that?” I say, following her eyes to the chill area. Tania, Laura, Reid, Matt, Chance and Nellie are among the bystanders on the sidelines. So, she got into their world on her own merit. I guess I should congratulate Nellie while I still have the chance, since she’s not returning any of my messages or even acknowledging my presence.
“She’s not acting herself lately,” China says. “I asked her if you were coming, and she acted as if she didn’t know you,” she continues, not realizing the combustible scene running through my head I’m trying to avoid causing.
“Is that right?” I say, heading in Nellie’s direction. “Well, let’s see if she can ignore me now.” Noticing my approach, Nellie looks uncomfortable, like me being here makes it obvious she doesn’t belong. Tania, seeing Nellie’s discomfort, looks up to see me in their faces again.
