Another Man Will

by Daaimah S. Poole

  “Daddy, where are you? My car broke down.”

  “Do you have AAA?”

  “No, I don’t. It’s smoking bad, and it won’t start up. I’m a few blocks away from Brandon’s school. Off of Chelten Avenue.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  My dad came right away. He had already called a tow truck company, and they were on their way. While we waited for them, my dad put my hazard lights on and we went to his car to get out of the cold.

  “You need some tires on that car, Vette.”

  “I don’t have any money for tires, Dad. I don’t have money for anything.”

  “Well, you can’t ride around with those. They are going to bust at any moment. Your front tires are fine, but those rear tires, you need to change them.”

  “Dad, I don’t have money to pay my rent. Phil took my money. The car broke down. It’s just so much. Brandon keeps getting suspended.”

  “Don’t worry about all of this. I’ll take care of the car. We will go get Brandon. I can loan you money. I have it. You’re my child. You’re going to get it together. I’m going to take Brandon with me. Let’s just take the car down to my mechanic first.”

  “Thank you, Dad.”

  After all this time I was still Daddy’s big girl, and he was still rescuing me. But all I wanted was to be able to rescue myself.

  My dad went inside to get Brandon at school, while I waited in the car. Brandon came out and knew he was in trouble. His face was balled up, and he was looking down.

  I met him on the sidewalk. “So what’s your excuse, huh Brandon? Your mom was on crack and wasn’t there for you? You didn’t have a dad in your life? I mean, really, were you abused? Because you’re going to need some excuse when you are a loser and someone asks you why you haven’t did anything with your life.”

  “I’m not a loser,” Brandon yelled back at me.

  “Well, you sure are acting like one.”

  “Man, you don’t know.”

  I punched him dead in his chest. “I’m tired of you, boy. You need to get it together. First, you want to be with Semaj. Now he is your enemy.”

  He bowed over, and my dad grabbed me off of him.

  “Leave him alone, Yvette.”

  “No, Dad. Stay out of this.”

  “You’re taking all your anger out on him,” my dad said as he tried to wrestle me off Brandon.

  “I’m not, Dad. He just has to has to stop acting like he doesn’t have any sense.”

  “Leave the boy alone. He will learn.”

  My dad was right. Brandon was going to learn right now—learn to stop having the school call my phone and interrupt my day.

  CHAPTER 33

  Dana

  “How do I look, babe?” Adam asked. His beard was coming in a little scruffy.

  “You look good. Your beard is sexy.” I fixed Adam’s tie in the mirror as we got ready to attend his uncle’s retirement party. I was wearing a pretty ivory cocktail dress. I knew I looked great, but I wasn’t prepared to meet his two sisters and his mother all at once. I didn’t know why I was so nervous, because I met people all the time and could sell anything, so I knew I could sell myself.

  We arrived at the upscale banquet hall in Bensalem, Pennsylvania. There were people standing around the reception area, drinking out of champagne flutes and wineglasses. Adam’s mother came over to us and kissed her son on the cheek. She had a short blond cut, was petite like me, and had very light blue eyes. She was in her fifties but looked a few years younger. She was followed by his sisters and his aunts.

  “Everyone, I want you all to meet my girlfriend, Dana,” Adam said as he kissed me on my cheek proudly.

  “I haven’t heard much about you. Where do you live and work, Dana?” his mother asked.

  I looked over at Adam, puzzled, and before I could respond, he said, “Mom, she works downtown, at a marketing agency, and lives in the city, and I have told you about her.”

  “Oh, a city girl. Nice,” his mother said, and I noticed her eyes cut over to his aunts.

  “Like, really in the city?” his sister Amanda asked.

  “Yes, Philadelphia,” I said.

  “Whoa. I would be so scared to live there,” Amanda stated. “I watch the news every day. It seems so scary to live there. It’s like every night someone gets shot or robbed. And the last time I was down there, we rode the train to the game and a homeless guy asked me for a dollar and I gave it to him, and then he came right back and asked for a cigarette. So then I finally told him I didn’t smoke anymore, but then he came back and asked me for ten dollars; it was very scary.”

  “Oh, that’s interesting. That’s real interesting,” I said, sort of lost for words. I scratched my head because I didn’t know why she was telling me this horrible story.

  “Being as you’re a city girl, you probably see that all the time,” said Adam’s mother.

  “Actually, I don’t in my neighborhood, but you know, over in Adam’s neighborhood it’s a little rougher. I have a doorman.” I looked straight in the witch’s face. I got her “city girl.”

  Adam interjected, “Yeah, we city people like it there, Mom. Let’s go and find Uncle Stuart and congratulate him on his retirement.”

  All evening his mother kept referring to me as a city girl, like the entire city was one trash can that I had jumped out of to run to this party. This lady was not behaving like the supermom of the year I had heard so much about. She was a rude bitch, and I wasn’t sure if I was a city girl because I lived in the city or if I was a city girl because I was black. I wanted to confront her, but then I didn’t want to act like a city girl, too. So instead I just smiled, and I managed to maintain my composure and got through dinner with his mother and his sister Amanda asking me ridiculous questions.

  The next morning in the conference room I was still in deep thought about the evening before. Leah was presenting our ideas on a Smart Board to the executives at Quench 0 Calorie Drink. I was supposed to keep up with her, but all I could think of is that I finally had found a great guy that I liked, but our relationship might not work out because his mother was a racist. After the meeting was over and the executives had left, Leah, Reshma, and I stood around talking. I was still moving in slow motion, trying to get my thoughts together.

  “What’s wrong Dana? Who did it?” Reshma asked with her little belly starting to poke out; she looked so cute in her Pea in a Pod maternity jumper. I couldn’t help but touch her belly.

  “It’s nothing, well. Adam’s mother kept referring to me as a city girl. She was really a bitch,” I complained. “All night she said things like, ‘Give the city girl another drink,’ and ‘The city girl is going to the restroom.’ It was so embarrassing, and what made it even worse was Adam didn’t say or do anything about it.”

  “Do you think she is prejudiced?” Reshma asked.

  “You know, I’m not sure if she is, but something is wrong with her and she was so shamelessly rude.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it. You’re dating him. Forget his mother. Stephen’s parents don’t care for me. They’d much rather he date a Jewish girl,” said Leah.

  Reshma frowned. “I didn’t know that. I love Zyeed’s parents. I couldn’t imagine not liking my in-laws.”

  “I think they are concerned about when we are married. I’m Christian, he’s Jewish, and it’s hard raising children with two different religions,” Leah explained. “The whole kosher thing makes everything complicated.”

  “Wow. Well, I’m going to say something to him,” I told them.

  I took their advice and dialed Adam once I was back in my office. I had to let him know his mom’s behavior bothered me and it was unacceptable.

  “Babe, last night your mom said a lot of things I didn’t take well. Does she have something against me? Is she maybe a little prejudiced?”

  “Dana, absolutely not. No, she is not prejudiced. I’m her only son. She has hated everyone and anyone I have ever dated.”

  “Oh. A
re you sure? Because she kept referring to me as a city girl.”

  “My mother was born in the city, in South Philadelphia. My grandfather is Italian. My mom has a lot of—”

  I stopped him mid-sentence. “Don’t say it, Adam.”

  “Don’t say what?”

  “Don’t say, ‘My mother has a lot of black friends.’ It’s the first thing every racist person says when they are trying to defend themselves about being called a racist.”

  “Okay, I won’t say it, but she does have a lot of black friends. She pushes buttons on purpose. I’ll call her now.”

  “No, you don’t have to.” Before I could stop him, his mother’s deeply annoying voice answered on the three-way call.

  “Hey, Mom,” Adam said. “I meant to ask you last night . . . What did you think about my girlfriend?”

  “I thought she was okay. Nothing jaw-dropping.” I waited for her to say something really reckless. “But you know my opinion is different from everyone else’s. She was okay to me, but your sisters seem to like her. What do I know?”

  “Mom, how come you don’t like any of my girlfriends?” Adam asked.

  “Because I don’t. But I will say she is a vast improvement over the other one. At least she is not on medication.”

  “All right, Mom. I will call you a little later.”

  “Bye, son.” His mother hung up.

  “See? She loves you.”

  “That’s love? Watch when you meet my parents. You’ll see how easygoing and nice my family is. You’ll see love.”

  “When will I get to meet your family?”

  “I don’t know. Soon. My dad is really funny sometimes. He really only likes to meet husbands and fiancés. At least that’s what he tells us.”

  “I’m going to be your husband one day, right?”

  “Maybe you will be one day, maybe not, but right now I’m completing my workday. I will talk to you later. I’ll be over around seven.”

  After hanging up with Adam, I called my mom. I hadn’t talked to her in a while. Between work, being in a relationship, and just everyday life, there wasn’t enough time to keep up with everyone. She answered on the fourth ring.

  “Mommy, what are you doing? Why did it take you so long to answer the phone?”

  “I was upstairs fixing up that back room. Everything is okay the same I suppose. I’m just really concerned about Yvette and the kids.”

  “What’s been going on with Vette?”

  “Everything. Every time I call her, she still doesn’t answer. I leave her messages and we’ve sent her money and she doesn’t respond. Your father said her car broke down on her, Brandon is misbehaving in school, she still hasn’t found a job or got her money from that nothing-ass man, and he also said she put on some weight. It’s like the world is coming down on her, and I don’t know how to help her.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Dana, just call her or go past there please for me.”

  For once I was worried too. I was going to have to make sure I called her.

  “I will.”

  “Oh and Dana, Thanksgiving is at Crystal’s,” my mother informed me. “And, when you get a chance, I want you to help me pick out new luggage. We are leaving this cold weather and going to the Florida Keys.”

  “Thanksgiving at Crystal’s? Can she even cook? Is she still married?”

  “Yes, she can cook and her husband Terell is a real good guy since we’ve gotten to know him. I told her I didn’t feel like making all the food, and she volunteered. She is doing good now. They bought a new truck and everything. You need to apologize to her. You have to give credit where credit is due.”

  “I don’t care. I’m dating someone now, too, and I’m bringing him. I still say it won’t last—I give them to the end of the year.”

  “That’s not nice, Dana.”

  “It’s not nice, but true. Mommy, I’ll talk to you later, and I’ll take you to get luggage this weekend.”

  CHAPTER 34

  Yvette

  I felt so behind, like I was drowning and trying to reach the surface. I was getting there, taking a breath, and then some force of nature kept pulling me back down again. I was getting tired of the fight, but I didn’t want to die. I needed someone to pull me out of this water and rescue me before I sank to the bottom. I’d been praying and praying and praying. And hopefully, the interview I was about to go on was the answer to all my prayers.

  Finally, one of the companies from the job fair had called. The position was for a human resources director for an insurance company. If I got it, it would be perfect. It was right downtown. I could catch the train. And the salary was just about what I was making before.

  I pulled apart hangers and tried to search through my closet for something that fit and was interview worthy. I’d tried on a few suits for my interview. My suit jackets were tight, and my pants felt like they were about to split open. I settled on a blouse and black slacks that were a little wrinkled at the bottom. Hopefully, they would iron themselves out by the time I got to the interview. Being on time was more important than getting rid of a few wrinkles.

  I left all the clothes I’d taken off the hangers on the bed and rushed downtown. My plan was to park in a parking lot, but the parking prices right around the office building were extremely high. I didn’t have fifteen dollars for the first half hour, so I circled around and parked seven blocks away for free and walked to my interview.

  I reached the office building ten minutes early. I checked in and went to the bathroom to check my appearance. I looked nice. I smiled at myself, took a deep breath, and hoped they hired me. I had to make a great impression, because I needed this job. I had my entire future paycheck spent already in my mind, and I hadn’t even got the job yet.

  An older white man name Samuel Creighton was my interviewer. He was wearing skinny, black-rimmed glasses to look over my résumé. I knew all the questions he was going to ask me, because so many times I had been on the other side of the desk, asking the questions. I had a seat and Mr. Creighton went right into going over my job history.

  “So why did you leave your last job? You were there for a very long time.”

  “Yes. Unfortunately, they were downsizing, so I was a salaried employee and they couldn’t afford to keep me, so they laid me off and brought in an outside company to handle their payroll.”

  “A lot of companies are doing that today. That’s unfortunate,” he said as he gave me an understanding glance and further studied my resume.

  “Yes, it is,” I agreed.

  He asked me a few more questions. Then he said that he was very impressed and thought I would be the perfect candidate, because they needed someone to start immediately. Mr. Creighton explained he had a few more interviews this week, but he would know something by the end of next week and be in touch.

  I think the interview went well. I drove home excited and hopeful. I felt good about the prospect of having a job again. The possibility of having employment again gave me the courage to open my bills. As soon as I was home I took the stack of bills and opened them one by one. When I moved here, I forwarded my mail here, and Phil’s mail to his father’s address, but somehow his got mixed in with mine. I could have been nice and put his new address on it; instead I tore his shit up. Fuck him, I thought. One thing was for certain, I couldn’t keep letting the bills pile up and not do anything about them. I opened the electric bill and called them immediately ; I was scheduled to be shut off in two days. Thank God I called them first; they allowed me to make a payment arrangement. Then I contacted the gas company and was able to make an extension. The last thing I needed to handle was my storage company, because their notice read that they have been trying to reach me.

  “Stanley Storage. How may I help you?” a male voice asked.

  “Yes, I was calling to see how much I owed on my storage unit.” I gave the man on the other end of the call my name and he put me on hold. He came back on the line and said, “With late fees, the tota
l amount on this account is three hundred and twenty-one dollars and two cents. You have until the twenty-sixth to pick it up.”

  I wrote the information down and thanked him. I was happy to be finally getting everything in order. In less than an hour I had the status of three bills under control and felt a lot calmer. Just as I got up to contact the bill collector, Geneva called.

  “Hey, Geneva.”

  “Don’t ‘Hey, Geneva’ me. I want you to stop avoiding me and come out and have a drink with me and Stacey. I want to get you out of that house.”

  “I can’t even afford a drink right now, though I need one.”

  “Come on. I’m treating. Get out. Eric has the kids. We can laugh, talk. I promise you will feel so much better if you come out.”

  “Okay, I’ll go.”

  I didn’t have anything new to wear, because I hadn’t bought myself anything in months. But I looked in the back of my closet and found a cute shirt I hadn’t worn and threw on jeans and heels and met up with my girls.

  Geneva looked so pretty, and so did Stacey. Their hair and nails were done. Their shoes were cute. We ordered our first round of mango margaritas with Patrón Silver, and I began to feel at ease.

  I sipped a little of my drink. “This is good. Whew. I really needed this,” I said, pointing to the drink.

  “So what’s going on? Girl, how are you managing?” Stacey inquired, stirring the pureed mango at the top of her drink.

  “Managing by the grace of God. Besides the world coming for me, I’m doing okay. I think what keeps me going is the fact that I know that this can’t last forever. And things are already looking up. I had a really good job interview today.”

  “Yes, they are. The sun got to shine sometimes, right?” Geneva said and laughed. “You are so strong, and all you have to do is just keep praying and God will send you that miracle.”

  “I know. It is just hard while you waiting on the miracle. I think not being able to pay for Mimi’s tuition was the hardest thing. Then Brandon got suspended twice. I just keep thinking, ‘Why me?’ And then my car broke down again. It’s just a lot . . . That’s why I don’t even feel like talking to anyone. I just want to be alone.”