Deal With It

by Monica McKayhan

Obviously, he hadn’t seen some of my jeans and how they hugged my hips. He was usually asleep when I left for school in the mornings and still at work when I came home from school. He might not approve of lots of my outfits were he to see them.

  “That’s how they’re wearing the jeans now, Paul. Tight and slender at the ankles,” Aunt Helen said. “Not much different from Mel’s little outfit over there.”

  Aunt Helen smiled at Mommy, but Mommy didn’t smile back. It was no secret that Aunt Helen was a little bit jealous of Mommy’s figure, especially since she didn’t quite have one. Aunt Helen reminded me of the comedian Mo’ Nique, with her oversize hips and her large breasts. She was always well dressed, and her hair was always together, but she shopped in the big women’s section of the store. And deep down inside, I believed that she was jealous of my mom’s curves.

  “Hey, girl, if you got a figure like mine, why not wear something to enhance it?” Mommy asked and then sashayed toward the kitchen. She seemed to be taunting Aunt Helen with her size-seven Apple Bottoms jeans and Apple Bottoms top, which hugged her just right. She never let Aunt Helen get to her. “Now, let me go on into this kitchen and see what you got cooked up in here, Helen.”

  It was no secret that Daddy’s oldest sister, Aunt Helen, didn’t care much for Mommy. Aunt Helen resented my mother for getting pregnant with me at the age of sixteen and ruining my daddy’s future—or at least the future she thought he should have. He was supposed to go to college and maybe even become a lawyer, but instead, he’d ended up dropping out of college, getting married and becoming a father at a very young age. Aunt Helen had thought my mother was too fast for Daddy. After all, Mommy had grown up on the opposite side of the tracks. With a single mother who sang in nightclubs, Mommy hadn’t been good enough for my daddy in Aunt Helen’s opinion. She’d tried keeping them apart, but it hadn’t worked. They’d been too much in love, and there was nothing she could do about it.

  Grandpa Drew had raised his children alone, since his wife died after giving birth to Aunt Beverly. My daddy and his siblings never even knew their mother, and I often wondered if Aunt Helen might’ve turned out better if she’d had a mother figure. Maybe then she wouldn’t have so much resentment from having to help raise her younger brothers and sister. Because she’d been forced to be a mother figure at such an early age, she went around trying to be everybody’s mama.

  “Let’s go upstairs. 106 & Park is on,” Roni said and then headed up the steps.

  I followed her upstairs to one of the guest bedrooms in Grandpa Drew’s house. It was so weird walking up those stairs and past my grandfather’s bedroom, knowing that he wasn’t there anymore. I stopped in front of his bedroom door, looked inside. A pair of his khaki pants was lying across the bed, and his ties were still hanging on the closet door.

  “I hate that he’s gone,” Roni said. “I miss him already.”

  “Me, too,” I said. “I wish I had come when he was sick. Then I could’ve at least said goodbye.”

  “I wonder whose gonna protect me now,” Roni said.

  “Protect you from who?” I asked.

  “From the barracuda lady down there,” she said, referring to her mother, “and from Lucifer.”

  “Who’s Lucifer?” I asked.

  “Never mind,” she said and changed the subject. “Did you get those jeans at 5.7.9?”

  “The Gap,” I said. “Clearance rack.”

  In one of the other guest bedrooms, my cousin Jason sat on the edge of the bed, crouched in front of the television, playing a video game. He never looked up as Roni and I stood in the doorway.

  “Hey, J,” I said.

  “What’s up, Tameka?” he asked, his eyes never leaving the television.

  “Didn’t you hear barracuda lady calling you?” Roni asked him.

  “What does she want?” he asked, his eyes still steady on the TV.

  “Go find out!” Roni said before moving on to the third bedroom, where I could hear 106 & Park’s host, Terrence J, introducing the next musical guest who was appearing on the program’s Freestyle Friday competition.

  The bedroom, which was painted soft pink, was the one I had shared with my cousins Roni and Alyssa since we were toddlers. Aunt Helen had decorated the room especially for us. When we were five, she had the Powerpuff Girls all over the wall. When were ten, it was SpongeBob who danced on the walls. And once we became teenagers, the cartoon characters that were painted on the walls were replaced by posters of Omarion, Usher and Mario—our three favorite entertainers.

  “Terrence J is so fine.” I grinned and then plopped down on one of the twin beds, remote control in hand. I propped the pillow behind my head.

  “He’s a’ight,” Roni said and then bounced onto the bottom bunk across the room. We always left the top bunk for our younger cousin, Alyssa. We always slept in the exact same beds when we visited Grandpa Drew’s house.

  Alyssa, who was on her way from Florida with her parents and younger twin brothers, would probably have pictures of Usher all over her cell phone. She would carry one of his CDs around in her purse, asking if we could listen to it a million times. While Roni and I could pass for sisters, Alyssa looked more like her mother’s side of the family—lighter skin, long, curly hair and light brown eyes. She was much skinnier, too. Aunt Helen was always trying to fatten her up with smothered pork chops and mashed potatoes and gravy. Alyssa played just about every sport that her school offered—basketball, volleyball and soccer. She was an all-around athlete and was sure to get a scholarship somewhere. She wanted to attend Spelman with me, but of course, her parents wanted her to stay closer to home and attend one of the universities in Florida.

  Roni, on the other hand, didn’t participate in any extracurricular activities. Not anymore. She had once been on the cheerleading squad and the volleyball team at her school in Charlotte, but when her grades took a nosedive she was kicked off both teams. After Aunt Helen decided to get married during Roni’s freshman year in high school, Roni’s behavior did an about-face. She started getting into trouble at school, and her grades were so horrible, she almost got held back a grade. She did whatever it took to make her mother miserable, and I couldn’t count the number of times Aunt Helen called my daddy for him to “talk some sense into Roni,” as she put it. She’d even sent Roni to Atlanta to spend a couple of weeks at our house during the summer, just to see if that would help her behavior. My mother had said she was the perfect angel; she just needed some attention and a little bit of TLC. The moment Roni went back home, her behavior went right back to being horrible.

  It was no secret that Roni hated her new stepfather, Grant, like she hated green peas—green peas made her throw up. He was always barking orders at Roni and Jason, like they were animals instead of human beings. When they complained to their mother, she would simply say, “You need to get used to Grant being around. He’s not going anywhere.” And that seemed to depress Roni all the more. She was convinced that Aunt Helen was blind to who the real Grant really was.

  “He’s a bastard,” she told me once. “And he cheats on my mother. I know who it is, too.”

  “How do you know?” I’d asked.

  “I just know,” she’d claimed.

  “Have you told Aunt Helen?” I’d asked.

  “She wouldn’t believe me,” she’d said. And that was how we’d left it.

  As I watched 106 & Park, it was hard to stay awake. I needed toothpicks to hold my eyelids open, and since I didn’t have any, I let them fall shut. Gave in to the sleep fairy and dozed off completely.

  twenty

  Indigo

  The mall on a Friday afternoon was more like a morgue. Nobody hung out there during the week. I was anxious to return the jeans that I’d picked up at Macy’s during their one-day sale, and since I didn’t want to go to the mall by myself, I dragged Tymia along for the ride. Daddy agreed to drop us off and pick us up in an hour, while he ran over to Home Depot for tools to fix our upstairs toilet. Once inside the departmen
t store, we headed straight for the juniors department, in search of a pair of jeans that actually looked better on than they did on the hanger.

  “And this time you should try them on before we leave the store,” Tymia said. “Don’t just assume they’re gonna look right.”

  “I plan to,” I said and started sorting through the jeans rack.

  Tymia and I danced to John Legend and Andre 3000’s song “Green Light,” which was playing over the speaker system. She actually knew the words and sang along—loudly.

  “We should do a routine to that song,” I teased.

  “We should,” Tymia said. “It’s a nice song.”

  “It sounds like pop or rock, and not at all like John Legend,” I said. “Is he getting weird or what?”

  “He’s a little different,” Tymia agreed, “and Andre 3000 has been weird.”

  “The routine would go something like this,” I said and started moving my hips as I made up something as I went along.

  “That’s good, but we need to add a little bit of this.” Tymia started moving to the music and mocking my routine, but she added a few steps of her own.

  An older saleswoman walked over just in the nick of time, her glasses at the tip of her nose. She was much too old to be working in the juniors department. She couldn’t have known anything about young adult fashion.

  “May I help you ladies?” she asked.

  “No, we’re fine,” I answered, “but thank you.”

  Now go away. That was what I wanted to say, but I bit my tongue instead.

  “Let me know if you need some help,” replied the saleswoman.

  She slowly walked away, and Tymia and I continued to bounce to the music. It was hard finding a pair of jeans that was within my budget, but I finally located a pair that was just a little more than I was willing to pay.

  “Here. Hold my purse while I try these on,” I told Tymia.

  The jeans were perfect. I turned to get a better glance at my butt in the mirror, slipped my hands into the back pockets. They were definitely going home with me, I thought.

  When I stepped out of the dressing room, Tymia was busy talking to Asia and who else? Benedict Arnold, of course—aka Jade Morgan. I walked up behind Tymia, grabbed my purse from her shoulder.

  “Hey, Asia,” I said, completely ignoring Jade.

  “What’s up, Indi?” Asia asked. “You’re returning those jeans you bought the other day, huh?”

  “Made my butt look flat,” I said.

  “That didn’t take much,” Jade mumbled under her breath.

  “What you say?” I asked Jade, with attitude. I wasn’t sure if I’d heard her right, but it had sounded like she’d said, “That didn’t take much.”

  “I wasn’t talking to you.” Jade had attitude right back.

  “Yeah, but it sounded like you were talking about me,” I said.

  “So what if I was?” Jade hissed.

  “Then say it to my face.” I was in her face within seconds.

  “I’m not afraid of you, Indigo,” Jade said and stood her ground.

  “No, you’re just afraid of Miss Martin!” I yelled. “So much so that you have to snitch on your friends.”

  “My friends?” she asked. “Are you calling yourself my friend?”

  “Not anymore,” I said. “With friends like you, who needs enemies?”

  Asia stood in between us. “Those jeans are cute, Indi. Do they look cute on?” She was trying desperately to change the subject, defuse the fire that was already burning inside me. I didn’t have time to discuss jeans with Asia. I was fired up and needed to get some things off my chest.

  “You could’ve covered for me that day when I had a detention. That’s what friends would do!” I continued with the argument.

  “You shouldn’t have gotten yourself in detention. You know how Miss Martin feels about problems,” Jade said, sounding more like a school administrator than someone who had once been my best friend. “You put me in a bad position.”

  “This dance-team-captain stuff has gone to your head,” I said and tapped my finger right on her forehead.

  “Don’t put your hands on me,” she warned. “I think you’re just jealous that you’re not the team captain.”

  “Jealous of who? You?” I asked. “Everybody knows I’m a way better dancer than you. Not to mention my grades are better,” I snapped. “I’m a better team player—”

  “But your attitude stinks!”

  “Your attitude stinks, you two-faced, brownnosing…”

  Before I knew it, we were on the floor in Macy’s, rolling around like guests on The Jerry Springer Show. Asia was pulling Jade off me, and Tymia was holding on to my arms to keep me from swinging again. The department store’s security guard was on his walkie-talkie as he approached; his counterpart followed close behind. The two of them dragged us both off, through the store.

  “Call my daddy!” I yelled as I tossed my cell phone to Tymia. “His number’s in my phone.”

  The saleswoman who’d tried to help Tymia and me earlier looked on as Jade and I were taken away like common criminals. A frown on her face, she shook her head in disgust. “I knew they were trouble the minute they walked in here,” she said as we passed.

  I rolled my eyes at her. Wished she would get hit by a truck.

  twenty-one

  Tameka

  When I felt something crawling on my face, I gently brushed it away. I felt it again and brushed it away again. The third time, I gave myself a slap on the face and then sat straight up in bed. Giggles filled the room as my twin cousins, Nick and Nate, stood over me. It was the tail of Nate’s toy dinosaur that had been crawling on my face.

  “Are you gonna sleep forever?” Nick asked.

  “Not with you two in the house,” I said.

  They both giggled.

  “Can you hook up the PlayStation in here for us, Tameka?” Nate asked.

  “No!” Roni walked into the room and answered for me. “If you wanna play video games, you need to go in the room with Jason.”

  “He won’t let us play,” Nick whined.

  “Too bad.” Roni stood firm. “You can’t play in here. We’re about to watch Real Housewives of Atlanta reruns.”

  “Hey, Tameka,” Alyssa greeted me as she walked into the room, carrying a paper towel filled with potato chips. She hugged me, and I grabbed a chip.

  “When did y’all get here?” I asked.

  “About an hour ago,” Alyssa said. “Aunt Helen wanted us to wake you up for dinner, but your mom said to let you sleep.”

  “The barracuda lady can really get on your nerves sometimes.” Roni rolled her eyes and then started surfing through the television stations.

  “All the adults are goin’ over to the funeral home to plan Grandpa Drew’s funeral,” Alyssa said.

  There was that word again—funeral. I didn’t like it, and I didn’t want to think about it.

  “So what’s been going on, Alyssa?” I asked. “You still messing with that boy that Uncle Rich chased down the street when he caught him in the house?”

  Roni and I laughed.

  “Nope. I got a new boyfriend,” Alyssa announced. “He’s fine, too. Plays football.”

  “Your high school football team sucks,” Roni said.

  “He doesn’t play for my high school team.” Alyssa smiled. “He plays for FAMU.”

  “He’s in college?” I asked.

  I wanted to protest, but the truth was, I had been in her shoes before. I had dated a boy who was a freshman at Morehouse College when I was a freshman in high school. He was supposed to be a senior in high school, but he’d skipped a grade. So technically, he was a senior in high school and not really that much older at all.

  “Shh, not so loud,” Alyssa said. “I don’t want those two little rug rats in there all up in my business. All I need is for my daddy to find out.”

  “I know what you mean,” I said. “My daddy is the same way. He thinks that I’m still a little girl
sometimes.”

  “I know. I hate it!” Alyssa exclaimed. “I’ll be fifteen in a couple of months.”

  “I don’t know, Alyssa. How old is this dude? Eighteen? Nineteen?” Roni asked.

  “He’s nineteen.” Alyssa grinned.

  Roni and I were both in shock. Our mouths opened at the same time; our eyes were the size of saucers.

  “Oh my God! Nineteen?” I asked.

  “You dated a boy who went to Morehouse, Tameka!” Alyssa reminded me.

  “He wasn’t nineteen,” I clarified. “He was seventeen. He was supposed to be a senior in high school, but he skipped a grade. So that doesn’t count.”

  “Well, excuse me,” Alyssa said. “T. J. is just so mature. He’s not like the stupid little boys who go to my school.”

  “Of course not. He’s a grown man!” Roni said. “Dude can vote if he wants to.”

  “And he did vote…for Barack Obama, thank you very much!” Alyssa snapped her fingers as if she’d just said something brilliant.

  “Are y’all having, you know, sex?” I had to ask. “Because if so, he could go to jail, you know.”

  “We haven’t yet, but I’m thinking about it,” Alyssa said. “What about y’all? Are y’all having it with your boyfriends?”

  “I don’t have a boyfriend,” Roni stated, and both of them looked my way for my response.

  Alyssa smiled. “Well, Tameka? Inquiring minds want to know.”

  I couldn’t help blushing.

  “You don’t have to answer,” Roni said. “We already know by the look on your face.”

  “Okay, I won’t,” I said.

  “Please tell me that you are using protection,” Alyssa said.

  “Of course,” I mumbled.

  “Aha!” Alyssa said. “So you are having it.”

  “We did it one time,” I finally admitted.

  “We?” Roni asked.

  “Me and my boyfriend, Vance,” I said. “He’s a senior in high school, Alyssa. He’s not in college.”

  “When…?” Roni asked. “When did it happen?”

  “A couple of weeks ago. When my parents came down here to check on Grandpa Drew when he had his first heart attack,” I said. “Vance came over. We popped in a Lloyd CD—”