The Diary of a Side Chick 6 (SCD)

by Tamicka Higgins

  “That I will,” Nalique said. “You know how niggas eyes wonder a little too much, so that I sure will.”

  Chapter 3

  That weekend was the longest weekend of Desirae’s life. She slept for a couple of hours on Saturday before waking up to a wailing baby. Quickly, she’d rushed out of bed, only to come downstairs and find them both crying. Titan and James continued their back and forth crying well into the night, causing Desirae to not get the kind of sleep she’d wanted. On Sunday, she woke up and paced her mother’s quiet house for most of the morning. Every so often, Desirae would stop in the living room and look out of the large picture window. The yard and the street on the other side looked so empty compared to Saturday mid-day. The scene of being stripped of her dignity and losing a fight naked played over and over again in her mind. At times during her aimless pacing she’d just have to turn away from the window and walk to a different part of the house.

  Desirae cooked herself something to eat around 4 pm or so. Just as she was finishing up, she heard keys jingling at the back door. Her heartbeat increased. She knew it was her mother coming back from seeing her cousins up in Chicago. In a matter of minutes, Desirae would be pulled out of her mindset – the mindset she’d been in for the last couple of days with not leaving the house. Quickly, she wondered if her mother had ridden down the street and talked to any of her neighbors. That wouldn’t be unusual for her mother.

  Karen walked onto the back porch then into the kitchen. There, she was greeted by the back of her daughter Desirae. She pulled her suitcases into the kitchen, pushing them over to the side so they could be out of the way. After checking to make sure that she’d locked the back door, she came back into the kitchen and slid out of her jacket.

  “Well hello, Desirae,” Karen said. There was obviously a clear, positive tone in Karen’s voice. Since she’d always been about family, going to see her family in Chicago really did give her a break. The lives of a social worker and a grandmother who has her daughter and the daughter’s twins living with her were hard to bring together. “How are you today?”

  Desirae slowly turned around and smiled. “I’m okay, Mama,” she responded.

  Karen’s thin, beautifully moisturized face went flat. All excitement she’d felt coming through the door from her weekend trip to the Windy City had flushed out of her body, making room for worry and confusion. The average-height, thin woman approached her daughter and reached out toward her face. “Desirae?” Karen said. “What the hell happened to you? What happened, Desirae?”

  Desirae stepped away. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” she said. “I mean… I just don’t wanna talk about it, Mama.”

  Desirae stepped into the dining room. Karen followed, putting her hands on her hips as she stood in the doorway. “Desirae,” she said, “tell me, baby. What happened? Did you go to the hospital to get some of that looked at or what?”

  “No, I ain’t go to no hospital,” Desirae said, shaking her head. “I’mma be okay.”

  “I know you’ll be okay,” Karen said, “but I just wanna know what happened to you. Did somebody break in here in the night or something?” Karen looked around. “Did somebody attack you at the store?”

  Desirae simply continued to shake her head. The scene in the front yard played over and over again in her mind. The humiliation, the embarrassment; once again she was feeling the pit of her stomach fall out. It was all just too much to deal with, let alone think about. And with each passing hour, she was getting closer to Monday – closer to the day where if she wanted to keep her job, she’d have to step outside. The sunlight would shine on her in the open world as she walked to her car. The scratches and bruises on her face would tell everyone that somebody had gotten the best of her, and they did it in a big way.

  Karen leaned her head back as she thought about what was going on before her eyes. Something was clearly off about Desirae. Yes, she wasn’t always the most open daughter, particularly because of some of the things she’d been into as a teenage girl and young woman. Now, as Karen stood in the dining room feet away from her daughter, she knew something was up.

  “What happened, Desirae?” Karen asked. “I’m not playing with you. Tell me what happened. With how your face is looking, it would seem as if you need to be pressing charges on somebody. What happened?”

  Tears rolled down Desirae’s face. She hadn’t cried since falling asleep yesterday in the bed upstairs. She simply couldn’t help it right now. The tears were just going to have to fall as she turned and looked her mother in the eyes.

  “I got my ass beat, Mama,” Desirae said, in a very emotional way. “I got my ass beat.” She began full blown crying, her fists at her sides. “That bitch beat my ass right out there in the front yard!” She pointed toward the front of the house. “Right there in the fuckin’ yard, Mama! She came up to the door and beat my ass like it was nothin’! She even tore my robe off and shit and threw it, Mama. Right out there in the front yard.”

  Desirae buried her face in the palms of her hands and cried loudly. She could feel the anger building inside of her, almost to the point where she wanted to go find the chick and go for a round two. She could feel her mother coming closer, then hugging her.

  “Desirae, what are you talkin’ about?” Karen asked. “She who? When did all of this happen, Desirae?”

  “It happened yesterday, Mama,” Desirae said. “Yesterday, right out there in the front yard. She beat my ass, naked, and people from up and down the street came down and just watched. They didn’t even do anything. They just came down and watched it all happen like it was nothin’.”

  “What were you doing going to the door in your robe?” Karen asked. “That’s not something you usually do if the person at the door is somebody that you don’t know, Desirae. And who is she? You keep avoiding that question, and I’m really starting to wonder why, if you want to know the truth. Tell me, Desirae, who is she and why would she be coming to my house to jump on you to where she’d be pulling you out of the front door and out into the damn front yard? That doesn’t even make sense to me, Desirae. What really happened? I don’t know if I’m buying the idea of some serial, woman attacker going door to door and snatching people out of their homes to fight in the middle of the front yard in broad daylight.”

  Desirae shook her head, knowing that she was going to have to tell her mother the truth eventually. There was no better time than the present at this point. “It was his wife,” she said, practically having to force the words out of her mouth. “It was his fuckin’ wife, Mama.”

  “Look, I know you all upset and everything, and I understand that,” Karen said, “but you’re not going to be talking like that in my house, at least not to my face…at least.” She smiled. “Calm down, Desirae. Calm down. It’s going to be okay. At least you’re still alive.”

  “Still alive?” Desirae asked, her bruised eyelids opening somewhat wider. “Damn, Mama. Do I look that bad?”

  Karen’s mouth opened, but then she paused. She’d realized what she said and how it could have come across to Desirae, especially considering if this fight happened in the middle of the yard in broad daylight with people watching. Karen quickly wrapped her arms around Desirae’s shoulders and guided her to the nicest couch in the living room. Within a matter of seconds, the two of them were descending into a pink, Victorian chaise lounge that Desirae’s great grandfather had shipped back from his deployment in France during World War II.

  “Just calm down, Desirae,” Karen said. “I promise, I won’t be mad. Just tell me the truth so I can know and tell you if you need to press charges or anything. At the very least, let me know something so I can look at who is coming to my door.”

  “Okay,” Desirae said, hoping that what her mother had just said to her was true. “It was Greg’s wife, Veronica, or whatever her name is. She is the one who came to the door and pulled me out when I opened it.”

  “Greg?” Karen asked, sounding very confused. “Desirae, who is Greg? I don’t e
ven know if you’ve ever mentioned the name Greg, or at least not that I can think of at the moment.”

  “Yeah, I have, Mama,” Desirae said. “Greg… The store manager up at the Family Dollar.”

  “The store manager at the Family Dollar?” Karen asked. “Why in the world would his wife be coming up to my door and looking for you?” Karen looked at her daughter, wondering if she still hadn’t learned her lesson from the situation with Tron. “Desirae, spill. Are you messing around with some woman’s husband? And how would she know that you were here?”

  “Cause, Mama,” Desirae said, “he was here.”

  “He who was here?” Karen asked. “This Greg person was here, in my house?”

  Karen nodded – a nod that was followed by a groan. “Okay,” she said, having to force herself to not be as angry as she wanted to be. “So, this Greg person, who is your supervisor at Family Dollar, was over here. His wife somehow finds out, as they usually do, and comes up to the door and knocks and you open it for her. She pulls you out into the yard and so on.” Karen decided to end the sentence for the sake of sensitivity.

  Desirae nodded, wondering what her mother was really thinking. “Well, Tron was leavin’, so I was already sort of at the door. I just kinda thought it was him coming back or something since he’d just been over here to see Titan and James.”

  Karen’s face immediately changed from understanding to simply shocked. She shook her head as she stood up. Once she turned back to her daughter, she looked as if she were about business. “Desirae, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, her lips tight. “How would you just so happen to be having another woman’s husband over when Tron just so happens to be coming over to see the twins? That seems so damn coincidental, if you ask me, and I’ll tell you whether you asked me or not. That really sounds, shall we say, interesting to me, Desirae. I won’t even ask about that because I think I already know what is going on here.”

  “What?” Desirae snapped back, feeling a little upset. She was getting this feeling deep down that her mother was judging her – thinking of her as promiscuous or something like that. “What you mean you think you already know what is going on here?”

  “Just what I said, Desirae,” Karen said. “I was young once too, you know. And I know these games that these young girls play when it comes to these men out here, especially in your age group and whatnot, if you know what I mean.” She shook her head and looked away in disappointment. “It’s time you let it go, Desirae,” Karen said. “It’s really time, I think, that you let it go. Let go of the thugs and the married men and the men who belong to some other girl or woman or whatever. At this point, I really think you need to focus on Desirae. Do something with your life because you’re not going to be living here with your children forever. Understand me? That’s not happening here. I’m not going to be that grandmother, I’m just not.”

  “I know, Mama,” Desirae said. “I know.”

  “Girl, I can’t believe you,” Karen said. “And I was just riding down the street on my way around back to the alley and garage, and I did notice a couple of people walking who looked at me for a couple of seconds too long. Desirae, why don’t you focus on taking care of them two babies you got and getting your life back together before you go chasing men and stuff? What were you messing around with this Greg person for, huh? Why? I can only think of one reason a married man, who is the store manager at a Family Dollar, would want to be spending any sort of time with a twenty-something year old girl who has two newborn twins. I really can only think of one reason. But I would like to know your reasoning. Cause you wanna know what I see?”

  “Girl, I don’t care what you see,” Desirae said, standing up. She just couldn’t take her mother’s righteous attitude. She brushed past her mother and headed toward the stairs.

  “What was that?” Karen asked. “Desirae, don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you. Girl, what were you getting out of doing that?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Desirae said. She knew that if she were to tell her mother what she was getting out of messing around with Greg, she’d have to mention what happened with the man and his wife her first couple of days at Family Dollar.

  “Look here, Desirae,” Karen said. “This is not going to be a hoe house. This—”

  Desirae cut her mother off saying, “Mama, I ain’t no hoe.”

  “I didn’t say that you were a hoe, Desirae,” Karen explained. “You’re not listening to me. I’m just saying, you’re not going to be bringing men in and out of here when I’m not around. And especially not married men. That’s not the kind of reputation I want for my house and where I live.”

  “Dang, Mama,” Desirae said, as she began to climb the steps. “You really did just basically call me a hoe to my face, saying men, like it would be more than one.”

  “I’m just telling how it looks,” Karen responded. “Desirae, I swear. That’s all I’m doing. I’m just telling how I see it and how other people will see it. I just don’t want you getting attacked the same way again like you did. I can tell the woman was mad and rightfully so.”

  Desirae was feeling more and more offended at her mother’s brash remarks. She felt as if her mother was not really being all that supportive. Something about her tone, as well as how she stood and talked in such an authoritative way just did not sit well with Desirae. “Fuck whatever you got to say, Mama,” Desirae said, boldly. “She didn’t have to beat my ass in the yard like that! And you one to talk, especially since you a baby killer.”

  Karen’s eyes bulged. Her chest pumped up as she felt her blood pressure rise. Giving very little thought to her actions, Karen lunged forward and headed upstairs. She quickly gained ground on Desirae, rushing up behind her just as the two of them came to the top of the steps. Desirae turned around, snapping her neck as she could practically feel her mother’s body heat very close to herself.

  “Desirae,” Karen said, grabbing her daughter’s shirt. “Who the hell are you calling a baby killer?” Karen knew that Desirae’s comment was in reference to when she’d revealed that she’d had an abortion back when she was younger, as to not ruin her chances for various opportunities in life. However, the last reason she would ever be telling her daughter such a delicate part of her past was so that she could throw it up in her face.

  “I’m just telling it how I see it,” Desirae said, looking into her mother’s eyes. The two of them stood across from one another, at the top of the steps, just outside of Karen’s master bedroom door. “You are one to talk about some of the things I’m doing. Sounds to me like you did a little worse. I at least let mine live. I was woman enough to take on the two babies I created. You wouldn’t even take on the one.”

  There was a long pause. The only sounds in the house were the ticking of the clock downstairs in the dining room and the heavy breathing from both Karen and Desirae. There they stood, looking into one another’s eyes. Karen’s nostrils flared, as she realized she was about to do something she’d never thought of doing. In the flash of a second, she’d raised her hand and slapped Desirae across the face. Desirae’s face turned to the side. It stung, almost just as bad as one of Veronica’s slaps. The breathing and ticking of the dining room clock continued. Slowly, Desirae turned her face and looked back into her mother’s face. Before she could open her mouth to say anything, Karen beat her too it.

  “I wish you would,” Karen said. “I wish you would slap your mother. Go right ahead and see what happens to you, Desirae.” She lowered her voice, clearly angrier than she’d been in years, if not decades. “I really wish you would. See how hard I go in,” she said, referencing sayings she’d heard younger people using, “and you’re going to see how easy Veronica went on you.”

  Desirae stood there frozen in place. Her adrenaline rushed so badly that it took every fiber of her being to refrain from reaching out and slapping the holy shit out of her mother. At that moment in time, she saw her mother as another grown woman – a grown woman who had just disr
espected her. In Desirae’s eyes, there was nothing wrong with what she’d just said. She’d only given her mother a taste of her own medicine. It wasn’t her fault if she couldn’t take it.

  Desirae’s body trembled from the energy building up inside of her. “You didn’t have to slap me, Mama,” she said. “You ain’t have to slap me.”

  “If I didn’t have to do it, Desirae,” Karen said, “then it wouldn’t have happened. Don’t you ever talk to me like that again. I don’t care how grown you get. You understand me? I wasn’t calling you a hoe, Desirae. I was just saying that with your history of men and whatnot, maybe it’s time that you lay off of that. Maybe it’s time that you refocus, let’s say, on something else that will get you a little further than a relationship with a married man will – a married man who is also your supervisor at work, Desirae. Your supervisor at work.”

  “I know who he is, Mama,” Desirae said, calming down. There was just no way she was going to be that girl who attacked her own parents. She thought of herself as being better than that; she thought of herself as having more class than anyone who would do something like that. “And I know, it probably wasn’t a good idea.”

  “Can I be honest with you so that maybe you can learn something?” Karen asked, not really planning to wait on an answer. “I think you had him over so that you could make Tron jealous, is that what it was? Are you trying to make Tron jealous or something? I’ve seen this kind of thing before, you know.”

  Desirae hesitated. “I don’t know,” she said, not wanting to give the real answer.

  Karen knew what Desirae’s response really meant. “Desirae, listen to me,” she said, now sounding more loving. “You don’t want Tron back, so don’t act like you do.”

  “He just watched, Mama,” Desirae said, her eyes swelling with tears. “I was out in the yard, naked, and he just watched from his car and didn’t even do anything.”

  “Hold up,” Karen said. “He was still here, or out there, when it happened?”