Man Enough For Me

by Rhonda Bowen

  Sort the laundry so I can wash tomorrow …

  Get out my clothes for work tomorrow …

  She was so far away that she almost missed Germaine’s comment to her mother.

  “You know, Mrs. Jackson, Jules has actually been helping my cousin Truuth promote his gospel album,” Germaine slipped in casually when Momma Jackson stopped to take a breath.

  Jules and everyone else at the table turned to look at him as if he was crazy. He was the only one who had dared to interrupt Momma Jackson. They all assumed it was because he didn’t know better. They expected her to turn on him at any minute. But the shock of being disrupted seemed to pacify Momma Jackson for a moment.

  “Oh?” she managed to squeak out.

  “Oh, yeah,” Germaine said casually, piling grapes and kiwi slices onto his plate like nothing unusual was happening. “She’s been really supportive, helping him book performances getting his music out to places where it can really reach people who need it. Like last week he sang at the YMCA’s youth empowerment concert in Scarborough, and got the chance to talk to a lot of the kids there. None of that would have happened without Jules.”

  “I didn’t know you were at the concert, Jules,” Keisha said suddenly. “I was there!” Keisha looked across at Germaine.

  “Truuth is your cousin? Wow, he’s really good. I heard him a couple times at church, but I didn’t know he was one of the artists Jules was working with.”

  “You been doing all of that, Jewel?” Davis asked, surprised. “I’m really proud of you.”

  “Yeah, Mrs. Jackson, she works that hard ‘cause she really cares about letting people know that there’s Someone out there who can change their lives,” Germaine said. His eyes shifted to Jules and stayed there. “You should really be proud of her.”

  Jules’s eyes met his, and she felt something stir in her chest.

  “So that’s what you’re busy doing,” Momma Jackson finally said, tilting her head and looking at Jules carefully. Jules tore her eyes away from Germaine to meet her mother’s gaze. She braced herself for whatever might come next.

  “Well, I guess I can’t be mad at you for being on God’s business, now can I,” she said with a half smile. “Good for you, sugar, good for you,” she said, patting Jules’s hand.

  And just like that, it was over.

  “Davis, when were you gonna tell me about that internship of yours …?”

  As the conversation shifted around her, Jules shot Germaine a grateful look. He nodded slightly and smiled in understanding.

  Okay.

  Maybe bringing him here wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

  Chapter 10

  “You get an A+ for this evening’s performance,” Jules said, stretching her legs, which were resting across Germaine’s lap. After escaping Momma Jackson’s unscathed, they had ended up back at her apartment on the couch, with the TV, and two bowls of Very Berry Strawberry ice cream.

  “Well, I do have a way with mothers,” Germaine said, chuckling as Jules stole a spoonful of ice cream from his bowl.

  “So I see,” she said, after swallowing. “Seems like you’ve had a lot of practice over your twenty-eight years.”

  “I’m not even gonna go there with you tonight,” Germaine said. He moved his bowl away before Jules could swipe another scoop.

  “Okay,” she conceded, dropping her spoon into her own empty bowl.

  “It was just nice to have someone stand up for me for a change,” she said, shivering slightly.

  Germaine put down his ice cream and wrapped the blanket, resting on the back of the couch, around her shoulders.

  “You know I’m always here for you,” he said, rubbing her calves gently. “But if it bothers you so much, why don’t you talk to her about it?”

  Jules sighed heavily. “Because my mother and I have a strange relationship. Every time I try to talk to her about the things she says to me, she somehow makes herself out to be the victim. You saw how she was tonight. I can never win with her.”

  “Have you ever tried to talk to her when she’s not mad?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well,” Germaine began, “if you’re trying to talk to her about how you feel in the middle of an argument, then she probably won’t hear you. But if you try reaching her when she’s in a good mood, then it just might make a difference.”

  “Hmm,” Jules murmured. “I never thought of that.”

  Germaine watched her quietly as she mulled over the concept in her mind.

  “I think I’m gonna try that,” Jules said. “That’s if I can ever catch her in a good mood.” She sighed. “I just wish I could have a normal relationship with my mother, like everyone else.”

  Germaine chuckled. “Baby, no one has a normal relationship with his or his parents. I don’t think there is such a thing.”

  “Really?” Jules said. “The way you talk about your mom, you guys seem pretty cool. I wouldn’t mind having a relationship like that.”

  “Don’t be too sure.”

  Even though he said the words casually, Jules didn’t miss the grimace that quickly crossed his face.

  “Why not?” Jules asked, her curiosity now piqued.

  But instead of answering, Germaine continued rubbing Jules’s feet silently.

  “Come on, babe,” she said, scooting closer to him. “You’ve seen my mother in all her glory. I can’t think of anything worse than that.” Jules looked at him questioningly. She could see him wrestle with the thoughts in his head, and she hoped that for once he would share them, instead of keeping everything hidden. As if hearing her, he began to speak.

  “Remember I told you I used to live in Vancouver?” he asked quietly. He had leaned back in the couch but he was gazing absently at some spot on the carpet in front of them.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I actually moved there when I was about sixteen,” he said. “Dad had been … gone … for about a year. And my mom had started seeing this other dude. It wasn’t serious. Or at least I thought it wasn’t, until she told me that she was gonna marry him.”

  Jules raised her eyebrows in surprise but said nothing.

  “Obviously I was mad as hell. My dad’s body wasn’t even cold yet, and she was selling his house and moving me and her into some stranger’s place to live. I didn’t even know this dude. It was like one morning I woke up and he was there all the time.

  “Anyway. We weren’t there a couple months before it became clear that one of us would have to go. It would either be me or him. My mom decided it would be me.”

  Jules’s heart grew heavy with sorrow as she saw the barely hidden sadness on Germaine’s face. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have her mother pick someone else over her or Davis. Momma Jackson had always had a lot of things going on in her life, but Jules knew that when it came down to the crunch, Momma Jackson would have given everything up in an instant to make sure Jules and Davis were taken care of.

  Jules grabbed both his hands as he continued.

  “She sent me to this boarding school in Vancouver, and that’s where I finished high school. From there I went straight to UBC, did business, and that’s where I was living and working afterward.”

  Jules looked at Germaine bewildered. “What about summers? Christmas? Thanksgiving?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “I worked. Or stayed on campus,” he said. “After I graduated from UBC, I got my own place, and Vancouver became home for me.”

  He grimaced. “I never even really knew my little sister until about two years ago. When she was born, my mom wanted me to come visit and see her. But I couldn’t. Wouldn’t.”

  “I’m sorry, Germaine,” Jules said quietly. She wanted to wrap her arms around him. But with him so deeply involved in his own memories, it felt like an intrusion. So she opted for squeezing his hand instead.

  “She used to write me. All the time.”

  “Your sister?”

  He nodded.

  “She’d never met me.
But here was this little seven-year-old girl, writing to me about her science project, and her pet frog, and Anwar, the boy next door who would chase her around with worms,” he said, chuckling.

  Jules smiled, glad that there were a few happy memories among so many bad ones. But almost as soon as it came, his smile was gone, and the tension was back again.

  “I missed out on so much of her life,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Is that why you came back?” Jules asked.

  “Partly,” Germaine said, sucking in a deep breath and shaking off the negative recollections.

  “What was the other part?”

  Germaine looked at Jules, thoughtful. “I think God was telling me it was time.”

  Jules raised an eyebrow. “So you still had your faith all that time?” She blew out a breath loudly. “I don’t know if I could be that strong. I would like to think I would be, but I’m not so sure.”

  He shrugged. “God was the only one who hadn’t turned His back on me. Even when my mom was off doing her own thing, He was there, taking care of me. There was no one else to trust but Him.”

  Jules cocked her head to one side and looked at Germaine curiously. Every time she thought she had him figured out, he threw another curveball at her. She thought of all the concerns she had had about him and the Sound Lounge before. They all seemed silly now as she sat there listening to him talk about his faith.

  “What?” he asked as he caught her watching him.

  Jules shook her head and smiled. “Nothing. So you and your mom are okay now?” she asked.

  Germaine shrugged. “I guess. I think she’s sorry about the way she handled things. But I’ve moved past that. She’ll always be my mom, and I’ll always love her. But she knows I’ll never set foot in her husband’s house.”

  “You still don’t get along with him?”

  Germaine’s face grew dark, and Jules knew instantly that there was more to the story than what he was telling.

  “Let’s just say it’s probably better for everyone that we keep our distance.”

  Jules shivered slightly, as she watched a hard look pass over his face. It was the same look she had seen him give Easy that evening at Triad. But almost as soon as it came, it was gone, and he was grinning at her.

  “Like I said, no one has a normal relationship with his or her parents,” he said. “But if it’s any consolation, your mom probably loves me.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Jules said, wrinkling her nose. “You’ve got some sort of spell over her. I think Davis has a little crush too.”

  Germaine laughed. “He’s a cool kid. I’m supposed to help him juice up his engine before he heads back to school this week.”

  “What? You’re already making playdates with my brother? I hope this isn’t going to cut into my boyfriend time,” Jules said with mock displeasure.

  “Absolutely not,” he said, leaning down to kiss her once. And then again. It wasn’t long before Jules forgot what she was supposed to be upset about.

  “Okay, I think it’s time for me to go,” Germaine said, pulling away from her a few minutes later.

  “What! Why?” Jules moaned.

  “Because,” Germaine said, standing up and grinning slyly, “I want to keep being the good boy your momma thinks I am.”

  Jules felt her face flush, and she stood up to walk him to the door.

  “Drive home safely,” she said, helping him into his jacket, her hands lingering on the lapels.

  “And you make sure you talk to your mom—soon.”

  “I will,” she promised. “Thanks again for coming with me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Well, lucky for you, that’s not something you have to worry about.” He pulled her close for a quick kiss before leaving.

  Jules closed the door behind him and leaned against it. She sure hoped he meant what he said, because she was really getting used to having him around.

  Chapter 11

  It was 5:25 a.m. when Jules pulled her car into the back alley of the Dollar Bay convenience store. The dark, early morning August sky made it seem much earlier than it was, and she shivered as a draft of cold air slivered in through her cracked car window. From the driver’s seat, she gazed around at the decrepit twenty-two-story community housing buildings that sandwiched the narrow street. She hated this part of town; hated that she had to come here; hated that anyone had to live here. She wouldn’t wish this roach-infested hell on her worst enemy.

  After taking a deep breath, she opened her car door and got out. Instantly the putrid smell of days-old food, burning rubber, and stale garbage invaded her nostrils. It was the smell of poverty. Real poverty.

  Locking her doors securely, she pulled her jacket closer around her and hurried down a shadowy alleyway, wondering all the time why Truuth needed to have his photo shoot here, in a place where everything seemed to be covered in thin layer of grime.

  It was a redundant question. She already knew why. This was where he came from. This was where he had lived, among the crackheads, drug dealers, and forgotten of society. In this place where dreams came to die, God’s vision for Truuth’s life had survived. That’s why he needed to come back here. So his album covers, the posters, and the magazine spreads could all show the truth. Yes, this was where he came from, but it was not who he was.

  As Jules hurried past it all, she wondered to herself if she could have survived this. Her problems with her own mother seemed insignificant compared to what Truuth must have gone through. It was not that she did not understand what it was to struggle. After her dad left, taking care of Jules and Davis had been a strain on Momma Jackson that Jules had been very aware of. Nonetheless, Jules knew the worst of that experience did not compare to some of the things Truuth had faced on a daily basis. If it wasn’t for God, who knows how he might have turned out.

  “Hey, it’s about time you got here,” ‘Dre said when Jules rounded the corner to where Ryan Lee Chung and his photography crew were already setting up. With his sweatshirt hood pulled over his head and dark glasses covering most of his face, ‘Dre looked barely awake.

  “Boy, you need to check yourself,” Jules answered. “It’s five-thirty in the morning. The only person I get up this early for is Jesus.”

  “Hey! Don’t be mad at me. This was Truuth’s idea,” ‘Dre said, as Jules followed him over to the back of his van, which hosted a large metal thermos and an array of hot beverage mixes.

  Over the top of the back seat Jules could see the back of a baseball cap, and Tanya’s long blond locks sticking out underneath.

  “Hey, T,” Jules called to her friend slouching in the front passenger seat. Tanya muttered something unintelligible and pulled her baseball cap further down over her eyes. Jules shook her head. That girl was some kind of committed. Jules wasn’t sure, however, if that devotion was to the company or to ‘Dre. Either way it was impressive. Even Maxine had refused to get up this early, and she was all about supporting her man.

  “Where’s the man of the hour?” Jules asked ‘Dre, as he filled her mug with hot chocolate.

  “He’s in the van over there with the stylist and makeup artist,” ‘Dre replied, gesturing to a white van parked a few feet behind them.”

  “Stylist, makeup artist, and a four-man photography crew.” Jules whistled. “I don’t even want to know how much this is costing.”

  ‘Dre made a huffing sound and shook his head. “Trust me, you don’t.”

  Jules leaned against the van and watched as the crew finished setting up and started taking pictures of Truuth.

  “So you think this will work for both of you?” Ryan asked Jules teasingly, nodding toward the first set up: a crumbling brick wall, surrounded by scatterings of broken glass that probably came from beer bottles someone had left there weeks before.

  Jules wrinkled her nose at the scene. She had already spoken to Ryan about what she wanted, after Truuth had spoken to her about what he wanted, and somehow they had managed to come to some vague ag
reement of what the shoot would end up looking like. Or so they thought anyway. As far as Jules was concerned, it was more of a trial and error process than anything else.

  “We’ll see, Ryan,” Jules said with a fair amount of apprehension. “You just do your magic and make it work.”

  Ryan laughed and began taking more shots.

  Just as planned, they were in time to catch the first rays of sunlight. And even though she was doubtful about how it would turn out, Jules had to admit that the light and scenery came together beautifully to create spectacular images. Somehow, Ryan managed to make even broken-down apartment buildings look amazing.

  The time passed quickly as Truuth changed outfits and switched backdrops for different shots. By the time Ryan called for the last set, it was 9:30 a.m. and a steady stream of foot and vehicle traffic was flowing through the streets and alleys around them.

  As the warm summer sunshine heated up the pavement and the air above it, Jules and Tanya ditched their jackets and lounged lazily on the hood of ‘Dre’s van to watch Truuth take his final shots. As she gazed around, Jules began to wonder once more what life was like in this place.

  She watched a slim black woman in a faded pantsuit try her best to control two little boys, neither of whom could be more than eight years old. From where she was Jules could tell that it wasn’t easy, for one boy wanted to run ahead of her, while the other stuck his feet in one spot and refused to move.

  Across the street, a hunched-over old woman pushed a battered grocery cart slowly down the sidewalk. Even though it was still early, she looked tired and worn, like the night had not been a good one for her. With great effort she trudged along, barely raising her eyes above the cart she was pushing. It was too painful for Jules to watch, and she turned away.

  Jules couldn’t help but wonder where God was for these people. Deep in her heart, she knew that even though their situations looked dire, the Lord was still there taking care of them, and if they asked, He would supply all their needs. But at the same time, she could understand why people like Easy, who had to see this suffering everyday, had a hard time believing that there was a God who cared.