The chicken breast felt squashy in her hands as she rinsed it, turned it over again and again.
“You think you got that one clean enough?” Mr. Livingston interrupted her train of thought.
“Oh, yes. Here you go.”
The lyrics from Al Green’s “Let’s Stay Together” filled the house.
“What you got on your mind, Yolanda?” he asked her.
Yolanda felt cornered, like she had felt at Wal-Mart. Pushed up against the wall, ready either to be subdued or to come out swinging. Stop fighting. “I’ve got a lot on my mind, Mr. Livingston.”
“Grab that barbecue sauce and that brush. Let’s go outside. It’s a little chilly out, but we should be okay.”
She followed him to the porch. He lifted the lid of the pit and stood back, letting the smoke fill the air. Probably teased some hungry strays somewhere. He took the wieners from the grill and placed them in a foil tray. He walked back to the door and yelled into the house, “Got the hot dogs ready for the kids!”
Then he came back outside again. He was dressed in denim shorts and a navy blue sweatshirt. His legs, scrawny— a lot like Yolanda’s, only with hair. His feet were big and clunky, with toes that begged for a pedicure. Or at least some lotion. Maybe old people don’t worry about such things.
Kelan had said that old folks knew how to live. Maybe toenails weren’t so important in the scope of life.
“I know you’ve got a lot of questions.”
The chicken sizzled as it hit the hot bars of metal.
“I don’t know that I can answer them all, but I’ll try.”
“Really I just have one question to ask you.” She didn’t want to sound accusatory, but how else did you ask? “Did you ever think that maybe I was yours? I mean, you were with my mom and... she had a baby nine months later. You must have known that in a small town like Dentonville.”
“I would be lying if I said the thought never crossed my mind,” he admitted, closing the top to the grill and taking a seat next to her. He faced her now, with no intention of sidestepping her question. “It did cross my mind. But your mother was an upstanding church member and a good woman. I didn’t want to ruin her reputation. Besides, I was young, broke, and I didn’t know what to do with myself, let alone a daughter.
“The next year, I moved to Parker City and married Dorothy. We tried for years to have a child, but never could. Dorothy felt like less of a woman because she couldn’t carry a baby, and the last thing I wanted to do was slap her in the face with the possibility there was another woman out there who might have given me what she couldn’t.
“We divorced in ninety. Irreconcilable differences. Now, looking back on it, I should have asked your mother. I’ve missed out on so much in your life.”
“Yes, you have. But it’s not all your fault. My mother should have told you.” Yolanda searched for some way to make sense of things.
“Yolanda, everybody has their reasons,” he said to her in the deep, earthy tone of an aged man. “People do what they think is best at the time.”
Yolanda knew he was right. “I guess I’m looking for someone to blame. It just doesn’t seem right,” she said.
“Well, for my part, I can say I’m sorry. I’m sorry I never checked up on you. I’m sorry I left and never looked back. I thank God that you have grown up to be a beautiful, beautiful person, and I hate I missed it all. I should have been there, but I wasn’t. And I’m sorry.”
His heart was so transparent, so easy. Nothing like Yolanda’s. She’d wanted to fuss at him a little more—draw blood. But she couldn’t. Really, what else was there to argue about after someone had admitted fault and an apology had been offered? “I accept your apology.”
“Thank you.” He jumped up and hugged her tightly.
They sat back in their seats and continued talking while the chicken smoked. “How’s your mother? Your family?”
“They’re all fine,” Yolanda said with confidence.
“And who’s this fella you brought over here?”
“Kelan—he’s my, I don’t know.” She was embarrassed to discuss this with her father. “He’s my man friend—kind of like Candace?”
“Oh, Candace won’t be my lady friend after today.” He stood up to turn the meat over. “You’re the first to know. I’m going to propose to her today.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I figure we’ve been playing house long enough. It’s time I made an honest woman out of her,” he said.
“That is so sexist.” Yolanda joined him at the grill.
“Probably so,” he agreed, “but it’s the truth. Can’t fight that.”
Candace cried for a good ten minutes after Bernard put the ring on her. Her full head of hair seemed to spring up and down with her heavy sobs.
She couldn’t have been much older than forty, but she had an older texture about her. As if she, too, had learned to slow down and enjoy the journey.
After she finished crying, the women in the family took turns gawking at her diamond. She held her plump, light brown hand out for all to see. The house was filled with “It’s about time”... “Don’t know what they were waiting on”... “They ain’t gettin’ no younger”—things people say.
When Yolanda got home, she returned a phone call from Regina. “Hey, you called?”
“Yeah, I called you at work but they said you were off. Where’d you go?”
“I went to meet my father,” Yolanda said.
“Oh.”
“He’s really nice,” Yolanda added before it dawned on her that she shouldn’t have elaborated.
“That’s good. Well, I’ll speak to you later,” she said quickly.
“Did you want something?” Yolanda asked.
“No.” Regina hung up the phone.
Chapter 37
Yolanda wondered how long it would take for her mother to bawl her out about the situation with Regina. It took a little over a week, but Gloria finally called Yolanda and gave her two cents. “Look, Yo-yo, you and Regina have been carrying on long enough with this situation with your father. It’s about time you quit actin’ high and mighty and remember the family you grew up with.”
“Momma, I haven’t done anything to Regina.”
“That’s the problem. You ain’t called her. You ain’t asked her nothin’ about the baby. When’s the last time you went and picked up your nephew?” she added for effect.
Totally irrelevant. “Okay, I’ll call her.”
“You will?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Call her right now, too.”
“I will, Momma. As soon as we hang up.”
“Bye.”
Lord, don’t let me be so bossy when I become somebody’s momma. Yolanda laced her fingers, closed her eyes, and put her hands on top of her head. Only Gloria could talk to her like that—well, Gloria and Aunt Toe. Maybe Kelan could, too. But that was it. How did he get so high up on the list?
Yolanda prayed before she called Regina at work to ask her if they could meet for lunch. It wasn’t as if she were afraid of Regina. She also prayed Regina would be in a good mood. It was a long shot, but she prayed it anyway.
When she did call, Regina sounded too tired to put up a fight and agreed to meet her at Papa’s Bar-B-Q Shack. Yolanda thanked God for working it out in His way.
The restaurant was crowded with white-collar workers who looked out of place at such a down-home, hole-in-the-wall restaurant on the wrong side of the tracks. The leather on every chair was peeling, and the tables wobbled on uneven legs. The decor was straight out of the sixties, seventies, and eighties—maybe even a few treasures among them worth many times what the owners had paid for them decades ago.
For as far back as Yolanda could remember, the autographed picture of Tony Dorsett had been hanging over the cash register. Nothing had changed, not even the people who worked there. Same attitudes: Speak up and say what you want. Have your money ready. But the sweet smell (not to mention the taste) of
smoked meats kept everybody coming back to Papa’s Bar-B-Q Shack.
“Girl, they need to make a candle out of this scent,” Yolanda joked as they entered Papa’s, testing Regina’s mood.
“People wouldn’t be able to think straight.” She offered a smirk.
I’ve caught her at a good time.
Regina got in line behind her sister, but Yolanda insisted that Regina go ahead and hold a booth for them. “What do you want—a chopped beef sandwich with baked beans?”
“Yeah, and get me some potato salad and sweet tea, too,” Regina said as she turned to walk away.
“Ooh!” Yolanda touched Regina’s shoulder and pointed toward a booth in the back corner of the restaurant. “Those people over there are getting up.”
“Okay. I’m all over it.”
Yolanda was never so glad to get dirty and sloppy with her sister. They ate as if they didn’t have good sense—just as hard as they wanted to. No pretensions. Thank You, Father, for opening this door already. Felt like old times—before any of this happened with Aunt Joyce Ann, Regina’s eating disorder, or the business with Yolanda’s father.
“I take it Momma called you?” Regina asked, licking barbecue sauce from her fingertips.
“Yeah.”
“What she say?” Regina asked.
“A bunch of stuff. And let me be the first to say I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was putting you on the back burner with this thing about Mr. Livingston.” Yolanda threw it out there, making it seem insignificant for Regina’s sake. Yolanda knew she would never get an “I was hurt” out of Regina, so she went on before Regina could deny her feelings. “I feel almost guilty. I mean, we’ve been through everything together. We’ve always had the same things—the same clothes, same rules, same opportunities. And now here I am with a father that I don’t share with you.”
“Hmph.” Regina put her hand over her mouth to keep from losing food. “I felt the same way when I got married.”
“Mmm.” The memory of Regina’s wedding was bittersweet for Yolanda. On one hand, she was happy for Regina’s love and fulfillment; on the other, sad for the empty space it created in Yolanda. Give and take.
Regina went on, “When I really thought about it, I was sad, too. I guess, when you share a bedroom with someone for most of your life and then, poof, you’re out of there, it’s weird. Almost scary. At least when I was away at college, I knew I’d come home and have you to talk to if I wanted to.”
We didn’t talk that much. Okay, Yo-yo, don’t go there. This is as close as you’re gonna get to reality with Regina. “Yeah. It was nice to talk sometimes,” Yolanda agreed with her.
“Now that you’ve got a father, though, it’s like all that time we spent bonding in our misery was a lie. Like it never happened,” she squinted and leaned in toward Yolanda, as if to say, “You know what I mean?”
“Now, imagine what it would be like if your whole life was a lie—not just the part you shared with someone else, but the whole thing.” Yolanda challenged her sister’s sad little story. Hold my mule. “And don’t forget, I grew up without a father, too. He might have been alive, but I sure didn’t have access to him. Like you, I only knew one Father. God.”
Regina nodded in agreement. Even in a man’s absence, they never went without their Heavenly Father. He had always been more than sufficient.
“Look, Regina, I can’t apologize for having a natural father any more than I can apologize for being born and robbing you of your only-child status,” Yolanda teased her.
Regina relented, letting the corners of her lips break upward. It was no secret that four-year-old Regina had not been happy to learn that she would have a little brother or sister.
“I can give account for myself,” Yolanda continued. “For the record, I apologize if I have done anything to make you feel ostracized. And the fact that we don’t have the same father has not diminished my feelings about you. No matter what happened with Momma or Daddy or Mr. Livingston, we still have the same heavenly Father and you will always be my sister—flesh, blood, and Blood.” She pointed toward heaven.
Just when her life was getting back to a reasonably comfortable routine, Kelan jolted Yolanda into an upright position when he announced he was going to meet his parents in Oklahoma for the Fourth of July and wanted her to join him.
“It’s not often they’re this close to Dallas. I really want them to meet you,” he stated one Sunday after church, on their way to Gloria’s house for dinner.
Yolanda turned up the volume on his radio. She didn’t know why, but this meet-the-parents thing caught her off guard. Kelan didn’t talk much about his parents or his family. Yolanda knew his mother and father were retired and traveled a lot. She knew he had a much older brother who was a missionary overseas, but that was about it. Frankly, Yolanda rather liked the idea of an in-law-less relationship.
“I don’t know.” Yolanda rolled her lips in between her teeth and pretended to think hard. “Let me see how the calendar at work looks. It seems like I’ve been taking off for everything under the sun since Momma’s wedding, and that was just a little over a year ago.”
“What’s wrong now, Yolanda?” Kelan asked, propping his elbow on the door frame. Annoyed. “How are we supposed to have this wedding if you haven’t even met my parents?”
“We are not even officially engaged yet, Kelan,” Yolanda reminded him.
“Is that what you’re waiting on—a question? A ring?”
“That’s usually the way it’s done.” Hello!
He shook his head and started humming a tune. An old saints song. One that Yolanda thought she recognized, but wasn’t sure of until he started the second round. “Don’t let the devil ride. Don’t let the devil ride. If you let him ride, he’ll surely want to drive. Don’t let him ride.”
“I know you’re not talking about me!” Yolanda pointed at herself, using every available muscle to keep from giving in to his humor.
“I haven’t said a word.” His lips struggled to stay straight. Humming again. “I just don’t see how somebody who didn’t want to commit to anything now wants to make an ultimatum.”
“Look, Kelan, I’m not the one who started all this marriage business,” Yolanda lectured him. “You’re the one who said you wanted to have a commitment by December thirty-first.”
“And then there was the chain of events, right?”
He could be so brutal with the truth. “Yes, the Lord allowed a lot in my life to help me see what’s really important. But the fact still remains, you said you were ready to move to the next level in this relationship. I already told you how I felt— at Wal-Mart, of all places. Now I’m wondering, which one of us has the coldest feet here?”
“You know what we haven’t done?” He bolted upright as he parked the car in Gloria’s driveway and turned off the ignition.
“What?”
“We haven’t prayed about this. Together, I mean.” His index finger rose in the air, and he prayed right then and there for both of them, grabbing Yolanda’s hand. Squeezing it. “Lord, we thank You for who You are in our lives and how You’ve brought us together through Your divine plan. We thank You for teaching us and showing us even now to seek Your face in everything we do, because it’s not just about me or Yolanda, Lord. It’s about You. It’s about Your love that continues to grow and develop us in Your will. Father, let this be the first and the last time we try to make decisions without You in the midst. Teach us what it means to be one—to pray on one accord, not in our own separate corners with separate agendas. Thank You for that uneasy feeling we both felt before we sought Your final word as one. Keep us in Your will, o God, both now and forever. In the name of Jesus we pray. Amen.”
Yolanda opened her eyes, leaned across the center of Kelan’s car, and kissed her man of God. She lost her fingers in his dreads and wished never to see her nails again if she could just stay there. With him. And in His presence wit
h the man she loved. Yolanda thanked God for bringing Kelan in through the back door—the only way he could have gotten in. You are so good, Father.
Chapter 38
The doorbell rang just as Gloria May bent over the cake to light the candles. “Who’s that?” She blew out the match and ordered Yo-yo to answer the door.
Yo-yo looked through the peephole and gasped with disbelief. She swung the door open, yelling, “It’s Dianne!”
The two sisters fell into each other, the same as they had at the airport. With the same connection, only less inhibited. Dianne with her whole heart healed, Yo-yo with hers less guarded. Both able to freely give and receive what had been struggling inside for years.
“Dianne!” Regina strode into the living room to embrace her cousin.
“Girl, look at you,” Dianne stood back and marveled at Regina’s figure. “Got your shirt all tucked in. You’re looking good, girl.”
“God is good,” Regina said. “So are sit-ups, crunches, and weights,” she added. In all honesty, Regina still hadn’t figured out how to stay away from her favorite foods. Every once in a while she broke down and ate a whole lot more than she should. But seeing a counselor had been helpful. Even more so, signing up for the aerobics class at Master’s Tabernacle was what she had needed to get on a healthy track.
Dianne took note of Regina’s attitude—better than she’d seen in a long time.
Next Gloria hugged Dianne and pulled off her coat before leading Dianne into the kitchen to greet the rest of the family. Orlando, Kelan, and Richard took backseats to the women’s reunion, watching. Adoring. “Aunt Toe, look who dropped by for your birthday.”
“Dianne!” The loose skin on Aunt Toe’s face rode up. “What a wonderful surprise!” Her eyes traveled the full length of Dianne’s body once over. She looked good. Solid.
“Where’s your man, gal?” Aunt Toe scolded her.
“I’m still single, Aunt Toe. Where’s your man?” Dianne taunted her.
“Don’t you worry about my man.” Aunt Toe rose to the occasion. “I got me a jet black man with big white teeth.”
Divas of Damascus Road Page 28
