Deal With It

by Monica McKayhan

  “I don’t have a dog, Mr. Espin.” I wasn’t in the mood for his sarcasm. I hadn’t completed my homework. So what? What was he going to do? Give me a detention?

  “Señorita Summer, you may serve a detention in the cafeteria after school,” he said.

  “Are you serious? You’re giving me a detention for not having my homework?” I was wide-awake now.

  “And for falling asleep in my class,” he said.

  “I can’t serve a detention, Mr. Espin. I have dance-team practice right after school. And I can’t miss practice.” I pleaded my case. “And besides, a detention will get me two demerits. And I can’t afford that. I might not get to perform at the game on Friday night.”

  “Señorita, you should think about these things before blowing off your homework,” he said. “My class is just as important as your dance team. You should put forth just as much effort.”

  “This class is just so hard, Mr. Espin. I don’t get Spanish.”

  “Then you should ask for help,” he said. “In the meantime, I will see you after school. And in the future, please try and be more prepared for my class, Indigo.”

  Was he trying to ruin my life? Miss Martin didn’t play when it came to grades and discipline. She would kick you off the team so fast, your head would spin. She was very strict in that area. I had to find a way around this.

  Dance-team practice had already started, and here I was, straggling in thirty minutes late. I’d already had Tameka and Tymia cover for me. They were supposed to tell Miss Martin that I was sick, and that I would be in the nurse’s office, resting for a little while. If I felt better, I’d be late for dance-team practice.

  “She’s not gonna buy it, Indi,” Tameka had warned. “And I don’t really like lying to Miss Martin like that. You’re gonna get me some demerits, too.”

  “What if she sends someone to the nurse’s office to check?” Tymia had asked.

  “She won’t,” I’d insisted. “Miss Martin is too busy to be worrying about my whereabouts. Please, y’all. Help a sister out.”

  “Why don’t you just make up with Jade? She’s the team captain. She’s the only one who can cover you, Indi,” Tymia had replied.

  “I’m not making up with her! She needs to make up with me,” I’d said. “I’ll take the demerits first.”

  “Fine, Indi. I’ll do it.” Tameka gave in. “But if I get in trouble for covering—”

  “You won’t get in trouble. I promise,” I’d said.

  “I’m not playing,” Tameka had said.

  “This is not cool,” Tymia had said. “Why didn’t you just do your Spanish homework?”

  “Because I was on the phone with y’all hoochies last night,” I’d reminded them. “Talking about your little, ugly boyfriend with the nappy hair.”

  We had spent most of our chat time trying to tell Tymia what a loser her new boyfriend was. He was already starting to accuse her of other boys, and they weren’t even exclusive yet. And he was already starting to be aggressive with her, pulling on her arm. He even shoved her once. In my opinion, that was a red flag. He would’ve been history the first time he grabbed my arm. But she liked his smile. A million boys at this school had a nice smile, and she had to pick the weird one.

  “Whatever, Indi,” Tameka had said. “I’ll do it, but it better not backfire on me.”

  “Thank you!” I’d been so grateful. I was home free.

  I stepped into the gymnasium and then walked slowly toward center court, where the group was practicing a new routine.

  “Miss Summer, we’re glad you could join us,” Miss Martin said. “You can begin with your laps around the gym, and then take a seat in the bleachers.”

  Laps? Was she serious? Didn’t she get the word that I was sick?

  I took off around the gym, slowly. I panted as I finished the first lap. I tried to read the faces of my friends Tameka and Tymia. Wanted to know if the lie had gone over or not. Tameka was into her routine. She didn’t even look my way. She took dance way too seriously, in my opinion. With a serious look on her face, she shook her hips from side to side. Tymia finally looked my way, and I tried reading her face. When she shook her head from side to side, I knew something was wrong. But what?

  After running my last lap, I bent over and tried to catch my breath. Then I took my seat in the bleachers, as Miss Martin had suggested. When practice was over, she dismissed the team and then motioned for me to come see her.

  “Why were you late, Indigo?” she asked.

  “I, uh, I wasn’t feeling well in my last class, so I went to the nurse’s office for a little while.”

  “Which nurse’s office was that? Because when I sent someone to check on you, she couldn’t find you.” Miss Martin’s mouth was moving, but I blanked out for a minute.

  “Um…” I didn’t even have a response.

  “She did, however, find you in the cafeteria, serving a detention,” Miss Martin said. “And you know how I feel about detentions. They are for students with behavior problems, and none of my girls have behavior problems.”

  “Miss Martin, I’m sorry for lying. It’s just that Mr. Espin gave me a detention for nothing. I didn’t have my homework, but I told him that I don’t understand Spanish and I need help. It’s not fair to give somebody a detention for not having their homework when they don’t understand it.”

  “Indigo, you know what my rules are. I don’t really care about the circumstances surrounding a detention. A detention is a detention, as far as I’m concerned. And the consequences are just that…consequences. You can’t perform at Friday night’s game.”

  “Aw, Miss Martin, not Friday night’s game! We been practicing that hot routine. I wanna dance,” I pleaded. “Please let me dance.”

  “Indigo, you know the team rules. If I let you get away with it, then what kind of example would I be setting for the other girls on the team? That’s what I was looking for in a team captain, someone who would be an example for other girls. Not someone who tried to use their friends to lie for them. You understand?”

  I nodded yes.

  Her decision seemed final. She seemed unmoved, and it was worthless to keep trying to convince her to give me another chance. I gave in.

  “Am I dismissed?” I asked.

  “You can go now,” she said.

  I lifted my gym bag onto my shoulders and headed for the locker room. I wondered who had given me away. Was it Tameka or Tymia? I stopped in my tracks, turned to face Miss Martin.

  “Who told you that I had a detention?” I asked.

  “My new team captain, of course. Jade,” she said.

  Jade was the one who had snitched on me?

  “I sent her to check on you because I know how close the two of you are. It took great character for her to come back and tell me the truth. Most friends would lie for each other. But Jade didn’t, and I was proud of her. You could learn a lot from her, Indigo. Jade is a wonderful role model.”

  Didn’t she mean Benedict Arnold?

  eighteen

  Tameka

  Grandpa Drew’s heart wasn’t as strong as I thought it was, because somewhere between my late-night conversation with Vance and the wee hours of the morning, it stopped pumping. When Mommy crept into my room and gently touched my hair, I knew something was wrong. She sat on the side of my bed; the tears on her face glistened in the moonlight.

  “Wake up, baby,” she whispered.

  “Grandpa Drew?” I asked. I already knew.

  “He had a second heart attack, but he couldn’t survive this one. He passed away,” she said. “But he didn’t suffer long.”

  Tears began to fill my eyes. I thought about Grandpa Drew and how funny he was, and realized that I would never see him again. I would never hear him tell his corny jokes again, or hear his laughter. He’d always laughed at his own jokes. He would wrap his arms around me and tell me not to worry so much.

  “You worry too much, ladybug,” he would always say. “Don’t be so serious all the
time. You’re just a kid.”

  “I’m not just a kid, Grandpa. I’ll be sixteen on my next birthday,” I’d told him when I was fifteen, grinning from ear to ear.

  I was fifteen when I’d last seen him. I suddenly wished I had gone with my parents to see him when he had his first heart attack. At least then I could’ve talked with him again. I could’ve heard one more of his silly jokes. I could’ve said goodbye. But now all I had were memories.

  “How’s Daddy?” I asked Mommy. “Is he okay?”

  “I had to call him at the studio. He’s on his way home.” Mommy wiped tears from my eyes with her fingertips, but they kept flowing.

  “I can’t believe that he’s gone. It just doesn’t seem real,” I cried. “I just called him two weeks ago to tell him about my grades. He was so proud of me.”

  “He loved you so much,” Mommy said, “and even though he’s gone, he still lives right here in your heart.” She touched the center of my chest.

  “It’s so weird, because when you and Daddy came home a few weeks ago, he was doing so much better,” I whispered in between tears.

  It was true. After my parents had come back home from checking on Grandpa Drew, he had been doing better. The doctors had been so positive, telling us that he would recover as long as he changed his diet, but they obviously didn’t know Grandpa Drew like I knew Grandpa Drew. He loved to cook, and he loved to eat. And he loved to eat stuff that wasn’t good for him—like lots of butter and fried foods. He could eat a loaf of bread in a couple of days’ time. And he didn’t know a thing about exercise. He would walk outside to get the newspaper or the mail, but that was about it.

  Tears began to flow like a river. My face was soaked from just thinking about Grandpa Drew.

  “We’re going to North Carolina for a few days,” Mommy said. “We’ll probably leave in a little while. You’ll have to go with us this time, Tameka. You might have to miss a few days of school. And that means dance-team practice, and probably a game, too.”

  “I wanna go, Mommy. I need to say goodbye to Grandpa Drew,” I said.

  “Why don’t you start getting packed. And make sure that you take one of your Sunday dresses.”

  “For the…funeral?”

  It was weird saying the word funeral while talking about Grandpa Drew. It gave me a funny feeling. It was the same feeling I’d gotten when Mommy said, “He passed away.” It was almost as if she was referring to someone else. It was like when you watch the news, and they talk about people dying in car accidents or people who are murdered. You didn’t really give it a second thought, because it was no one that you knew. It was not someone who had bounced you on his knee when you were a little girl. It was not somebody who had kissed your forehead and squeezed you tight before tucking you into bed. It was not the person who you had made milk mustaches with or the person who had tickled your feet until you’d almost wet your pants.

  “Yes, for the funeral,” Mommy said. It was hard to believe that Grandpa Drew was really gone.

  After Mommy left, I stared at the ceiling for a while. I felt a little numb and wanted to just lie still for a moment. Wanted to try and picture my grandfather’s smile, but couldn’t. I wondered if he would become just a distant memory in my mind. I hopped out of bed, opened my closet and pulled a shoe box down—the one that held stacks and stacks of pictures that I’d collected over the years. I sat on the edge of the bed and sorted through the photos until I found one of Grandpa Drew. It was a photo of him reclining in his easy chair, a big smile on his golden-brown face. I smiled at the photo, and then tears filled my eyes.

  I wanted to change the mood, so I popped a CD in and bounced to the music. I pulled my overnight bag out of the closet and started filling it with underwear and socks. Then I packed a few pairs of jeans and a couple of sweat suits with the cropped jackets. I gathered my CDs and stuffed them into my CD case. I placed various bottles of Victoria’s Secret shower gel and lotion into my overnight bag. I packed everything except for a dress. Couldn’t bring myself to pack that.

  After I pulled myself out of the shower, I slipped on a pair of sweats and a polo shirt with the Aéropostale butterfly on the breast. I pulled my hair into a ponytail and rubbed some lip gloss on my lips. I slipped on my sneakers and sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Ready?” Mommy appeared in my doorway, looking adorable in her pink sweat suit, with a brown shirt underneath. Her funky haircut was looking hot.

  “Yes,” I answered.

  “You okay?” she asked and sat on the bed next to me, wrapped her arm around my shoulder. “We’re all gonna miss him.”

  I nodded a yes.

  “Which dress did you pack?” Mommy asked.

  There was the issue of the dress again, the dress that led to the funeral. The funeral that led to the reality that Grandpa Drew was really gone. I shrugged my shoulders.

  “Baby, you have to pack a dress,” she said, “unless you’re gonna wear your Apple Bottoms to the services.”

  I cracked a smile but really didn’t feel much like smiling. “I don’t know what to pack.”

  “Are you kidding?” Mommy headed for my closet. “All those dresses you have. You need to pick one. And let’s get moving. Your daddy’s warming up the car. We’re about ready to pull out.”

  She left the room and shut the door. I searched my closet for a dress. I would wear a dress, but it wasn’t going to be black or any other dull color. This would not be a sad occasion. Grandpa Drew enjoyed life, and I wouldn’t make this dull for him. I would wear red or pink. Maybe I would even wear a white dress. I grabbed dresses in all three colors, stuffed them into my bag.

  “Are you ready, baby?” Daddy met me at the top of the stairs, grabbed my bag.

  “Yep,” I said.

  “How you holding up?”

  “Good.” I kissed Daddy’s cheek. “How you holding up?”

  “I’m doing fine, baby. Thanks for asking.” Daddy placed his arm around my neck, and we headed down the stairs arm in arm.

  I could tell this was going to be a long weekend, for both of us.

  nineteen

  Tameka

  In the backseat of my parents’ SUV, I listened to one of Rihanna’s CDs while flipping through the latest copy of Vibe magazine. I wasn’t really reading. My mind was a roller coaster of thoughts. I wondered if Grandpa Drew was in Heaven yet. Wondered if he’d gone there immediately, or if he’d waited around for a little while. Maybe he was waiting for us to get there, to say goodbye.

  I wondered if Vance would miss me. Wondered if he would hook up with Darla while I was gone, or if he would stay true. He’d promised to keep in touch while we were apart, but I couldn’t help wondering if I could really trust him. After all, I’d given him an intimate part of myself, just so he wouldn’t have to go looking for it somewhere else. I pulled up his photo that was stored on my camera phone, stared at his cute little smile. I hoped and prayed that our relationship could withstand these few days apart.

  I pulled up the calendar on my cell phone. It was the seventh day of March, and my visitor hadn’t paid me a visit yet. My visitor was my menstrual cycle, which usually paid me a visit on the first day of every month. It was like clockwork—I never missed it, and I was never late. But here I was, seven days past due, and I was nervous about it. There was no way I could be pregnant. After all, Vance and I had used protection. We had taken every precaution to do things the right way, so I dismissed that thought altogether.

  My phone vibrated. I’d received a text from Vance.

  WUP? he asked.

  On my way to NC. Grandpa Drew passed away.

  He knew who Grandpa Drew was. I talked about him all the time.

  Sorry 2 hear dat.

  Thx.

  U OK?

  Yes.

  I will miss u.

  Ditto. The truth was, I missed him already.

  As we pulled up in front of Grandpa Drew’s house, my heart started pounding uncontrollably. I knew that my grandfather woul
dn’t be rushing to the car to greet us, as he usually did. He wouldn’t even be inside waiting for us, with a piping-hot meal on the stove—some concoction he’d gotten off the Food Network. He wouldn’t be reclining in his easy chair. Inside, I would find only Aunt Helen, my daddy’s oldest sister, and my cousins Jason and Roni, who had lived with Grandpa Drew. Aunt Beverly was probably on a nonstop flight from Cincinnati, and Uncle Rich and his family would be driving up from Florida.

  “I’ll get the luggage later,” Daddy said as he stepped out of the car.

  Aunt Helen stood on Grandpa Drew’s front porch, an apron tied around her waist.

  “Is that my little Tameka?” she asked, obviously forgetting that I wasn’t little Tameka anymore. I was a sixteen-year-old, high-school-going, driver’s-license-having Tameka. I was one year older than her daughter, Roni, so she should have known that I wasn’t a little girl anymore.

  “Hi, Aunt Helen,” I said.

  “Give me a hug,” she said. “You’re growing up to be so pretty.”

  I hugged her tightly, and when she finally let go, she hugged my parents.

  “Something sure smells good, Helen,” Mommy said.

  “Well, I knew that you all were coming, so I threw a casserole in the oven. Come on inside and take a load off.” Aunt Helen went inside and headed straight for the kitchen. “Jason! Roni! Come on down here and say hello.”

  Roni rushed downstairs. A much shorter version of me, she wore her hair similar to mine, flat ironed and hanging on her shoulders. She wore a tight pair of jeans and a Guess T-shirt.

  “What’s up, Tameka?” She smiled, a pink cell phone glued to her ear.

  “Hey,” I replied.

  “Where’s your brother?” Aunt Helen demanded.

  “I don’t know. Upstairs, being stupid, I guess,” Roni said. “Hi, Uncle Paul and Aunt Mel.”

  “Hi there, Roni,” Mommy said.

  “The jeans are a little bit tight, don’t you think?” Daddy asked Roni and then turned to Aunt Helen. “You let her wear stuff like that?”