And in that moment, that 50 percent love slipped to 20 percent love and 80 percent hate.
In a soft voice, I said, “Okay, Mommy.” I stood and walked out of her room and into mine. Once there, I closed and locked the door. I pulled out my phone and texted Meka the words, Yes. Take me to my father.
So now, the next week as I waited with Meka outside the waiting room of Kern Valley State Prison, I thought back to the day I left my aunt’s house and paid her a visit at the fish place and her being more than willing to take me to see my daddy. I kept my meetings with my aunt and Meka a secret from my mom and I was going to keep my visit to see my dad a secret as well. Maybe once I got the truth from my father I would confront my mother. I wondered how long he had been locked up and why he never came to claim or see me. He should have since Demarco obviously didn’t want any part of me and my mother accepted that. But at the same time, if my father was a pimp he wasn’t a saint either. But I didn’t want to judge him too harshly until he told me his side of the story. I didn’t want to get disappointed like my mother had disappointed me. But I desperately needed to hear what he had to say.
When we were led to one of the tables I took a deep breath as I sat down next to Meka. When I went to the fish shop Meka had confirmed for me that my mother was a former prostitute and that they shared the same pimp: Black. She also confirmed that my mother had in fact gone to prison for killing her sister. Lies, lies, lies my mother told. I couldn’t believe that this was really who my mother was. And I wasn’t going to ask her nothing; she would lie! The proof was here and my mother was a liar so she couldn’t possibly tell me the truth now. I wouldn’t believe it at this point. I mean for thirteen years she lied about who my father was and allowed Demarco to mistreat me. She had the chance to tell me the truth and she chose not to! She probably would have always lied to me. Thank God I had met Meka. I remembered her words at the fish market: “If you mother won’t take you to your father I will. And I’m sure he will be very happy to see you.”
“He’s coming out, Dominique,” she whispered to me.
I stared up in awe as a dark-skinned man came walking toward us. As he came our way my hands covered my cheeks as I hungrily stared at him. He was average height and build with smooth dark chocolate skin. His eyes were as black as his skin and he wore his hair in neat skinny dreads that were pulled back into a ponytail.
His expression was unreadable when he sat across from me.
“Hey, baby,” Meka said. “Did you get that money on your books last week?”
“I did. Thank you,” he said in an even tone. Then he feasted his eyes on me as I eyed him nervously.
“I don’t have to tell you who this is. I mean she looks like you spit her right out.”
He threw back his head and laughed, revealing pearly white teeth. Then his eyes scanned me from the top of my head to my feet slowly. Then tears out of nowhere made the corners of his eyes shiny then slid down his face.
“Hi, daughter,” he whispered wiping away the tears.
“Hi, Daddy,” I said nervously but happiness budded through me.
He turned to Meka. “Leave us for a while, Meka.”
“Okay, daddy.” She puckered a kiss at him and sashayed away. He eyed her for a moment before turning back to me.
“Meka told me about you a couple days ago. It was a big shock. But I wasn’t expecting you would be in front of me today so suddenly. How did this come to happen, daughter?”
I blushed when he said that. It felt good. “I found out that you were my real father and the man who my mother said was my dad really wasn’t. I asked Meka to take me to you and she said that she would.”
“Why did you want to meet me? Wait. Before you answer that, tell me what you know of me.”
“I know that you were my mother’s pimp is all.”
“Yes. I was her pimp. That’s all you need to know about that for now. But one thing Cashmere never did was she never told me that I had a child running around. You have to know that if I did know I would go out of my way to facilitate a relationship with you, baby. Jail would have not kept me away from you. The only thing that could is death. And both our hearts are beating, pretty baby.”
That made me smile and cry at the same time. “All I ever wanted was a father’s love. I never got that. I don’t care that you’re locked up, Daddy. I don’t care that you were my mother’s pimp. I want to be in your life.”
“Pimp. Interesting. I hate that word. Well, Dominique, I must admit that I heard those same words before from your mother. And I took her and her sister in and I took care of her more so like a father. They both had nowhere to go. I gave them food, shelter, and a daddy’s love. I also schooled them on the streets because, let’s face it, at that time I was in my mid-forties. And I’m a black man living in America. I could leave the earth any moment and if I did I wanted them to both know how to fend for themselves. Those are things a daddy is supposed to do. And if that wasn’t enough, I was grooming your mother for bigger things because there was always something more special about her just like I see there is something special about you.”
I beamed at the compliment.
“After your mother went to jail for murdering your sister and was released I thought she would show some appreciation. But she never came back home. She ran off with another man. She left me after all I did for her. Then I got locked up for a crime I didn’t commit.” He fought tears.
“What?” I asked with wide eyes.
“A murder, baby. But I was set up. That’s on Allah. You have to believe me. I’m fighting the case as we speak.”
I believed him. Why would he lie to me? What did he gain from that? Nothing. So I had to ask him one more question. “Did you hurt my mother? Force her—”
“Listen to me carefully because I will not say this again. Your mother chose to stay with me. She could have left at any moment. She could have gone to the police or even social services. But she never did. That should tell you something.”
That made me feel so much better.
“She did betray me though I must say, Dominique. She left me when I needed her the most.”
“I’ll never leave you, Daddy. I promise.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. So now I need you. Get with Meka and let her groom you into a cash cow. The money will go toward me getting a lawyer and fighting my case.”
“I want to help you in any way I can.”
“And you have no problem taking my instruction?” he asked.
“No, Daddy. Just will you . . . will you love me like most fathers love their daughters? I know I’m not perfect. But I don’t know it, a daddy’s love. It’s supreme love to me. More important than anyone else loving me. Without it I feel dead inside. I don’t want to feel dead anymore. But will you love me?”
“I already do.” Tears dropped from his eyes and soon I was bawling and he held me, stroked my hair, and whispered, “It’s okay. Daddy’s here.”
“I’m hurting so much.” I sobbed.
He continued to comfort me. In that moment, my love dropped down to 0 percent and was now 100 percent hate for my mother.
Chapter 15
Dominique
I took a deep breath and knocked on Meka’s door. I thought back to all the things my father had told me. The rules were simple. My father had told me over our visit. He was going to groom me to be exactly what my mother wasn’t. He told me for the time being I had to lay low with my mother and not let on that I knew her secrets. I had to wait to get my first letter from my daddy to know what my next step was, which arrived three days after our visit.
Before I read the letter, I tore the envelope up and threw it in the trash so there was no way it could be traced back to Meka. I was told to do this to every letter. And I had read the letter over and over again.
Dear Dominique,
I’m so grateful for you coming to me. Allah has blessed me with a beautiful princess. I am honored that you want to be there for your father and that you
also want to build a relationship with me. Just remember your mother has no real bearing over your life anymore. However, until I am released I would like you to stay with her and do not tell her that we have spoken. You need to continue following her rules like nothing in your life has changed. In life it is always best to move in silence. However, you are never to go with her law over mine. I am older and seasoned so I know what’s better for your life. Now that I have you in my life I will make sure no one hurts you again and I won’t put anyone in front of you. That was your mother’s mistake. She allowed her husband to continue to hurt you so she could keep him around not worrying what the repercussions would be. She was living a lie, a fake identity. I won’t let her do this to you, Dominique. But as a father, there is only so much I am able to do for you being locked up. So I have to get out of here. That’s why I need your help. You have my blood running through your veins so you will be the most solidified moneymaker out there. No one will be able to touch you. Just like your mother is. But you needed to be groomed. I mean there are rules to this. I’m trying to get a lawyer to get out of here and we can establish a relationship. If you can start working for Sunshine that will help me greatly.
I knew Sunshine was code for Meka. Black said in case anyone ever saw these letters they wouldn’t get traced back to her.
Sunshine can show you how to make a lot of paper. You better listen to her. She knows what she is talking about and if you don’t follow what she says it will get back to me and I will be very disappointed in you. You don’t want that do you?
“No, Daddy, I don’t,” I said out loud as I read the letter. My eyes scanned over all the rules to the game. Then when I heard a knock on my bedroom door I quickly hid the letter under my pillow. My mother poked her head in my bedroom. I had my back turned to her.
“Has Demarco called?” she asked pathetically.
“No, Mom. I would have told you if he did.”
I heard her sigh before closing my door and trudging back into her room.
I walked out of the house with my backpack pretending I was going to school when really I was going to Meka’s house. But like I said, my mother didn’t answer the phone so she really had no real way of knowing. I always forged my mother’s signature when I missed a day. But Meka told me I couldn’t miss too much school. We could get caught up.
When I got to Meka’s apartment, there were four boys who looked to be around my age sitting on the couch while Meka sat in a chair across from them sipping from a glass cup.
“Hi,” I said nervously to both.
She tossed me another letter from my daddy. “You can read that later. You got work to do. Strip down.”
“Huh?” I asked confused.
“These little brothers are from down the street. They don’t have any money, but you are going to pretend that they are paying customers. Don’t tell me you a virgin, Dominique. You look like a virgin. But your dad ordered this initiation tonight. All four of them.”
My heart thudded in my chest. I had only had sex with Mr. Douglas. And he had taken my virginity. But I felt safe with him. I didn’t feel safe here. But still I said, “No, and if my father wants me to do this then I will.”
“Good ’cause it’s no time to turn back now. I’m going to coach you through this. By the time you leave my crib there won’t be anything innocent about you. Now let’s go strip down.”
I closed my eyes and proceeded to get naked.
“Open your eyes! You in control when it comes to servicing men. Don’t ever forget that you hold the power. Not the men.”
I nodded and kept my eyes open and I stripped down to nothing while all four of the boys who looked like they were also in their teens eyed me in disbelief almost.
Then I looked at her.
She smirked and said, “You say you not a virgin so go on and handle it, sweetie.”
“Okay.” And that’s what I did.
Chapter 16
Cashmere
“No, Mama, I don’t want to go with you. I appreciate you offering but I don’t want to.”
I didn’t bother making eye contact with my mother as she stared down at me disapprovingly as I lay under the covers of my bed in my bedroom in the middle of the day. But I really didn’t care what she thought. Just a week before my world was turned upside down.
Man. Every time I thought about the situation I was in nonstop tears. Demarco had finally decided to leave me. To sum up the feeling I felt, it hurt like pure hell. There were times when my fingers itched to scratch my skin. And there were times where my body craved something stronger than alcohol to dull the pain. I guess old habits die hard. But I continued to struggle on and deal with what I had to deal with: losing my better half. He had finally gone ahead and done it. Demarco had left me and was going to file for divorce. I was so glad that Dominique wasn’t there and hadn’t heard what he had said: the secret that I had been keeping from her since she was born. That Demarco was not her father; Black, my old pimp, was. When Demarco and I moved in together to start a life as young lovers the last thing I thought I’d find out was that I was pregnant at eighteen. Initially although I was young, the thought of it made me so happy. I would have a baby. With all the things that my young body had endured when Black had me out there on the streets from all the men, getting raped to all the STDs I had gotten, I didn’t think I would ever be able to conceive. And then to have the love of my life profess his love to me forever, it was a dream come true. But then that was when I was hit like a bag of rocks because I remembered I was also raped by Black in front of Demarco and he could also very well be the father. There was no real way to estimate because shortly after the incident Demarco and I resumed having sex and we didn’t wear condoms so while it could very well be his baby or Black’s, I was most assured that it was Demarco’s because the incident with Black happened only once whereas Demarco and I were having sex on the regular. So we both just hoped and prayed that it was his. Demarco told me one day early on, “Why don’t we not chance it, baby, and you go ahead and get an abortion?” At the time I was three months. I closed my eyes to those words.
“I mean, you’re a spring chicken now. We can get you pregnant again.”
I couldn’t imagine terminating something growing inside of me. So I assured him, “Come on now. As much as we mess around you gotta know that this is your baby. What are the chances that it will be Black’s?”
He smiled, rubbed his hand around my newly formed bump, and said, “Yeah, you’re right, baby.”
And he was very supportive of me during the pregnancy doing all the things a soon-to-be father is supposed to do. Rubbing cocoa butter on my tummy. Massaging my feet and being so gentle and careful of hurting the baby when we made love. When Dominique was born, she was very pale and she had my eyes. So initially we thought she was very well his. As Dominique got older she darkened, which was still no sign because I was dark skinned and she looked so much like me. Then one day Demarco came to me and said, “I love her but I don’t love her. I’m afraid of completely giving my heart to her unless I know for sure she is mine.”
So I told him, “Baby, Dom is yours.”
“You think so, baby?”
“Yes.”
But when he looked away I saw he still had a little doubt. I mean I did as well but every day and night I prayed that the baby was Demarco’s. So we did it. Although I didn’t want to because I feared what the results would be. And sure enough our biggest fears came true when the results came back that Demarco wasn’t the father of Dominique. It was the worst devastation ever. And things just weren’t the same, period. At first he tried, even after he found out she wasn’t his. For days he wouldn’t even talk. But like a man of his word he married me like he had promised me we would. But it never made things better; things only went downhill from there and never came back up. As Dominique grew, we grew further and further apart, until the gap between us was so wide I just couldn’t close it by myself. And a baby would have but I couldn’t get pregnan
t.
And, thus, here I was.
“Cash!”
I slowly turned and looked at my mother as she stood in front of me shaking her head in disapproval.
With this shit eating at me I couldn’t work so I called my scheduled clients and told them that I wouldn’t be in all that week. I just couldn’t fathom working and feeling the way I did. I mean sometimes I struggled getting out of bed; and with something as simple as going to the bathroom I just wanted to drop on the floor and break down. I didn’t bother talking to my mother because I didn’t want to hear her self-absorbed ass speak on how she didn’t need a man to define her because she knew her worth and apparently I didn’t know mine. Yeah, whatever, maybe I didn’t. And yes, I needed him, not any man, but I needed Demarco. Does the fact that this man has been the love on my life since I was eighteen make it more understandable? I wanted to ask her as she rumbled on about how she wanted me to go on a vacation with her.
“A change in scenery is what you need, Cash. You never know. You might find you another husband. Girl, you only thirty-two with one kid. Hell when I met Hank I was well older then you and a little too old to be popping out no more babies but it didn’t stop him from loving me and putting a ring on it.”
I shook my head at her. “I’m not going to Aruba with you, Mom. No, thanks.”
She sucked her teeth at me. “So what? You just gonna sit in this room and waste your life away over a nigga who don’t want you?”
I almost lunged toward her from the bed then stopped myself. I closed my eyes briefly and took a deep breath. “Mom,” I said carefully, “if you start that shit again I’m throwing you out.”
“Okay. Okay, Cash, damn! You know it’s fucked up how you talk to your mother.”
I shook my head at her. The supposed Christian.
“But I’ll chalk it up to you going through some shit right?” She walked toward me and cupped my face between her hands. It brought me back to that day at the shop when she tried to come back into my life when I was eighteen. It made me sad all over again ’cause back then Demarco wanted me so bad.
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