The Broken Canvas

by Tai Barnett

  My family, especially my conservative father, thought it was odd having a male housekeeper, especially one that was unmarried and had no family or relatives that anyone knew of except for his father. Lest I forget, my own father is a bit homophobic himself…the irony of life, huh?

  So, the only thing we knew so far about Vernon was that he is originally from New Orleans but moved to Atlanta with his father when he was 11years old.

  After getting to know Vernon, he had become like an older Southern brother, who was colorful, superstitious, good at giving advice, talkative, deafeningly loud, and could make anyone eat anything.

  The truth is, while on one hand Vernon was overly critical in general, he quite enjoyed taking care of people. He liked dressing up the house, the children, me and, of course, himself. He was irritatingly neat, clean, and all-round a perfectionist with every aspect of his duties. He kept this house like a royal mansion, it was spotless and always stylishly decorated with the latest designs and fabrics.

  Honestly, I don’t know how he kept up with having to deal with the children and my busy schedules, and over-the-top makeovers when it was time for the next big function to come around or interviews. I told him all the time that I didn’t know how he did it and still managed to look like he just stepped out of a magazine.

  Vernon was definitely like family and I would give him my very last if he ever needed it. But everyone has two sides. So, Vernon also could be at times impatient, rowdy, controlling, and extremely secretive about his past and family.

  I realized I had better start eating before he came yelling and cursing with his over-the-top deep southern accent, which almost always left you feeling guilty and ashamed, as if you did something wrong. His many humorous country sayings confused almost everyone in the house.

  Vernon laid out the spicy sardines in front of me and I sighed in delight.

  “Thank you so much, Vernon. You’re a sweetheart…”

  “Not a problem honey, just be sure to have some a dat cornbread too…” Vernon said.

  He walked to the other side of the table and sat in front of Michael while spreading the napkin on top of his lap.

  I turned around to start eating as I closed my eyes and smelled all the tasty and delectable scents on the table. I was sure ready to indulge. “Oh, Vernon. Everything looks absolutely delicious!”

  “Why thank you, Tasha…ya’ll betta finish everything too!” Vernon said. He positioned himself more comfortably on his chair.

  “Oh Michael, where is Lauren? I thought she would be having brunch with us this morning?”

  Michael closed his tablet and sighed, unfolding his napkin unto his lap and rolling his eyes while having a sip of orange juice.

  “Is everything alright? ’Cause you look pissed! Again! What did Samantha do now?”

  “Honey, I don’t know why the hell I am paying her 20 dollars an hour for when the girl doesn’t even know how to customize a mass email message for each supplier. Instead, she sends a generic message exposing all my suppliers to each other. I swear to you if I didn’t have this big contract and desperately needed the help of a personal assistant, I would have kicked her ass to the curb months ago…” Michael exclaimed.

  I took a sip of my orange juice from my favorite Mother’s Day gift glass mug.

  “Hahaha! She has no idea who she is dealing with, I tell you that much! I am surprised the poor thing lasted three months…” Vernon said.

  “Yeah, well, she is still on probation and can you believe that Miss Thing had the nerve to use company phone to make her personal calls? And to her man in Australia for that matter? And don’t get me started on her having absolutely no clue about fabrics. Can you believe the girl asked me the thread count of a leather fabric! I mean how stupid could you really be?” Michael said with the fork wigwagging his irritation in one hand.

  I almost spilled my drink as we all started laughing.

  “Well, Miss Lauren should be back soon, but you know that girl, so easily distracted by everything that reminds her of Conner, always meditating and finding the next Buddhist prayer beads or rosary to bring her comfort,” Michael said.

  “Hmm, she really loved him, Michael. I can’t imagine what she went through losing him to the accident. And they were engaged. I am sure the meditation helps too…” Vernon said while taking a bite of a fried drumstick.

  “Yeah, well, the girl almost freaked me out this morning. So, I hear a strange humming sound in the late hours of the morning, right. Well, turns out little Miss Lauren was reciting some mandra…or mantra or whatever they call it. As I peeked into her room, I saw her with her legs folded and eyes closed chanting at 4:30 in the morning…” Michael opened his eyes widely, looking alternately at me and Vernon.

  As Michael continued talking, I looked back unto the canvas and wondered why this one painting was taking so long to complete and Lauren’s love died suddenly. It was so sad. Time was so very precious. But if you ask me, it seems that my little cousin had been seeking peace and happiness through some unworldly means. I sure hope she would find it soon.

  “If you ask me, Lauren needs to start dating again. Can you believe that my little sister is still a virgin? Talking about when she gets married! Almost 33 years old and abstaining from sex. Heck! When I was her age, I had slept with almost half the guys that were ‘out’ in my college and three Professors…” Michael said proudly with a bright smile.

  “Yes, well…we all know you’re a little ‘whore-ish’ sometimes, Michael. But listen, you and I both know that most of the women in our family have very, very few partners and Lauren is probably just a romantic. She is just waiting for her true love,” I said.

  I patted my mouth with the napkin, turned back to the easel and started packing away my painting equipment and tools.

  “Yeah, just like you were! The only difference is that Lauren and Conner were High school sweethearts. She has never been in a ‘real’ relationship with ‘real’ problems before. Like you have!” Michael said sassily.

  Vernon looked at us both while he ate. Somehow not being ready to give his opinions just yet.

  As Michael spoke, I sat back into my chair. I was soon swept away in monologue and fantasies retelling, narrating the progressed opinions and anti-climactic tales of my love life inside of my head.

  But Lauren had just walked in, interrupting our conversation and my sidetracking imagination.

  “Thank God you’re here! We were just gonna start eating everything without you girl ’cause I am famished!” exclaimed Michael while he started selecting from the mouthwatering spread.

  My cousin Lauren was mild mannered, well cultured, and beautiful. She spoke very little especially since Connor’s death. Although, she could be fierce. Her complexion was light with a few freckles scatted across her cheeks and pointy nose. People would often assume that we were sisters except that her hair was light brown and wavy and mine was jet black with big curls. We were similar in features too. About the same height, five feet six inches or so. But one of the biggest and most noticeable distinctions with me was my enormous ass that just refused to go away.

  “I am sure that Vernon and Tasha would have left some for me because we know how you can be greedy sometimes!” said Lauren while removing her knitted beige jacket and sitting around the table, smiling.

  “Well, Natasha and I were just talking…” Michael said. He looked at me with a curious expression as though he was about to stick his nose where it didn’t belong.

  “About me?” said Lauren while positioning her pink satin napkins unto her slender legs and chewing one of the beignets that she snatched and bit into.

  Vernon put his hands to his hip while he stared at Michael.

  “Where were you?” said Michael, smiling and taking up a beignet and throwing it into his mouth.

  I looked at them while smiling and at Michael because I knew that Vernon was about to attack him now.

  Vernon shook his head and used his knife and fork to cut into the
crispy chicken breast. He looked at Lauren while chewing his food, “Now, you listen here, sweetheart, you don’t have to tell nobody where you were! Why you be asking this girl about her whereabouts? That’s her own damn business. Lauren, why don’t you try some of the cornbread? I made them especially for you, hun!” Vernon exclaimed.

  Michael sighed while looking at me grinning. He loved pushing Vernon’s buttons.

  “Don’t pay your old brotha no mind. See, he over there, grinning his perfectly bleached white teeth like a possum…” Vernon said.

  “Thank you, Vernon. Well, if you really must know, I stopped by the church on my way up,” Lauren said. She took a sip of her juice.

  “A church? But why? What happened?” She had me worried now.

  “Oh, it’s nothing, Tasha. I have just been having this weird recurring dream that’s been bothering me.” Lauren looked at her empty plate and then looked back at everyone staring at her.

  “Is it about a man?” said Michael smiling.

  “I knew that’s the first damn thing that would pop up in this one’s head. A man! A recurring dream, huh? You know my father use to tell me that a recurring dream is often a sign of life trying to tell you or warn you about something!” said Vernon.

  “Well, I had a late dinner that night and I don’t want talk about it. I am starving. The spread looks so good, Vernon. It’s tasty too, I bet,” said Lauren.

  “Well, I am gonna just say it! Lauren, you need to finally start dating again! You’re young and hot! You aren’t gonna be 32 forever, honey! You need to start having some fun and some sex. It’s been almost five years since…!” said Michael.

  “The child doesn’t need a man, Michael! Nor does she need to be whoring down the place and opening her ‘sweetie-pie’ to every Tom, Dick and sex craving dumb-ass that she meets! What she needs is to accept Jesus Christ as her personal Lord and savior!” he chided.

  “Mm-hmm well, not all of us are Church-going folks, Vernon. Because I know you ain’t gonna sit at this table and act like you go to church every Sunday or you’re no Christian. And why are you giving relationship advice to someone when we ain’t ever seen you with any woman, or man for that matter,” Michael said.

  “Tsk…look, even though we don’t all go to church every Sunday, I know that y’all are God-fearing folks. Honey, all I am saying is when you have the Lord in your life, you don’t need no woman…or man for that matter, to make you happy. Not saying that I like men either!” Vernon said looking gruffly at Michael.

  Vernon continued, “Everything will happen right on time! It’s called synchronicity,” Vernon explained. He sighed and leaned back into his chair.

  “Well, halleluiah to that, Vernon!” Lauren shouted and giggled.

  I smiled and looked at my wonderful family and how outlandish, opinionated and saucy they could all be. Yet, still so very caring and loyal.

  “Well, after the Oscars I have been thinking a lot. I have come to realize that the sensible thing to do is to renounce a jarring relationship. But for some, the captivation of the heart for its object is far too spellbinding. The prevailing paradox of love befuddles even the mindful intellect and especially the credulous romantic. And, well, for my relationship history, this truth had always been my reality…”

  They all looked at me and then look at each other as though they had no idea what I was saying. Michael sighed and turned toward me.

  “You really in the right field, huh Tasha? I mean, who talks like that to family, like you’re reading from a book or reciting some poetry or something?” said Michael.

  Turning around and facing them, I looked at them sharply. “You know me, always drifting off into heaven knows where.” I laughed awkwardly.

  “Wait, this is about your meeting with Brody, right? You don’t still have feelings for him, do you Tasha? What about Andrew?” said Lauren.

  I shook my head as I started eating my pouched sardines again, “Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Lauren. Of course not! I can’t stand the man, I mean what Andrew and I have works perfectly for me right now. I just wish I could completely cut Brody off, you know. Isn’t that the sensible thing to do? Everything was just so perfect until he came around again.”

  Vernon rolled his eyes as he picked up his cup of coffee and held it in his hand.

  “Now. Y’all know I am usually like the old lady who fell out of the wagon but…” Vernon said while sipping his black coffee.

  “Huh huh?” said Michael.

  Vernon stared at him heatedly, “But…just how do you plan on doing that, darling? You’re going to see him and his family in a couple days?” said Vernon continuing to gobble down his fried chicken with biscuits and gravy.

  “Yes, Vernon’s right, Natasha. What are you gonna do?” said Lauren.

  “Ahm well, I am going to tell Brody Banister the truth. I would like full custody of Charles!”

  Everyone made their own uncertain sounds and expressions around the table.

  “Natasha, now you know I look up to you, right? You’re a highly intelligent woman who is the kindest person I have ever met in my life and I ain’t never considered you to be stupid. Until now!” said Vernon.

  “Huh…what do you mean?” I said.

  “Honey, you’re a celebrity now. You’re gonna give the press even more to talk about and you’re gonna be in even more pain and conflict with this Brody Banister than Rose’s no-good father! Hun, you can’t be dealing with anything like that. Not when you have finally settled down in…what-e-va it is that you and Andrew have going on there!” Vernon said.

  “Vernon’s right…” Lauren said.

  “Thank you, Lauren!” Vernon exclaimed.

  “A custody battle is the last thing you need right now. Frank would explode if he found out. And Tubby and his paparazzi minions are just waiting for the right situation or picture to run with it,” said Lauren while leaning her head to the side and staring disquietedly at me.

  “Frank is my publicist so it’s his job…”

  “Yeah, but you’re smarter than that, Natasha. You need to find a reasonable solution,” Michael said.

  While we finished our brunch, Vernon’s cell phone rang, and he went a little distance from the table to have his usual secret phone call.

  “I told you he is hiding something Tasha, always having private phone calls, disappearing for the holidays,” Michael whispered.

  I looked back at Vernon trying his best to quietly talk to whoever it was that was on the other end of his call.

  “He is just a private person Michael, ain’t nothing wrong with that,” said Lauren on her tablet updating my social media accounts.

  Vernon’s expression suddenly became dull and dreary as he hung up the phone and walked back to the table.

  The clouds were becoming darker now as the wind started blowing heavier.

  “Is everything OK, Vernon?” I asked.

  “Huh…that was my fatha. He said m-my grandmama died this morning,” Vernon said droopily.

  Michael’s eyes expanded while looking at Vernon.

  “Oh my. I am so sorry to hear that, Vernon…” Michael said.

  “Vernon, my sympathy goes out to you and your father. Were you and your grandmother very close?” said Lauren.

  Vernon took a seat beside me, but I could tell that there was something else that he was still not saying. Something was bothering him profoundly.

  “You have never really mentioned any other family members except for your father.” said Michael.

  Vernon went silent for a few seconds while looking across the patio at the flowers swaying to and fro in the wind.

  “Yes, Granny Cummins and I were…why we were actually closer than two peas in a pod, if y’all can believe that! She was my best friend back in N’awlins.”

  I looked at him closely, imagining what he must be feeling losing someone that he loved so much. Death was such an inevitable and dreadful thing.

  “Well, wonderful…Granny Cummins. Thanks for sharing that w
ith us Vernon. And I am thinking that this is the perfect time to take a trip to New Orleans to see your family. And we will all accompany you for support, if you would like, and the children can stay with my parents…”

  “Well while I do appreciate the sentiments Natasha, I am afraid those folks where we are from don’t take too kindly to strangers coming around. And besides, it’ll be a few days before the funeral and y’all are busy with work and stuff…” Vernon said.

  “Well even if I can’t be there, I am sure Michael and Lauren would love to accompany you. Vernon, your family and you need our support during this time.”

  Vernon shook his head. Yet, on his face, was a look of uncertainty.

  “OK, I will book the flights then. Michael, clear your schedule!” said Lauren.

  Not His Type?

  “Knock, knock, hope your decent, dear?” exclaimed Mrs. Banister while slowly making her way inside of my guest room.

  It was late June. I was sitting up in bed in my glasses on my laptop writing my next hopeful big hit. I was not ready for company; my hair was disheveled and up in one with bits and pieces hanging all over the place. Charles was asleep beside me. And worst, I was wearing just a pink and white sleeveless sleep slip.

  I never liked exposing myself to anyone. Not even to the men I slept with, which I am now counting is approximately three. Not bad, I say, for a woman that is going on forty-five. I consider myself a well-brought-up girl. Yet, sometimes I measured that perhaps indulging in my promiscuous and occasional lesbian fantasies in my twenties would not have left me so vulnerable and completely scrambled with relationships and sometimes even sex.

  Every time always seems like my first, especially when I am sober. When I am drunk or very ‘into you’, which is rare, well, all inhibitions go out the window and I act like a common prostitute and stripper.

  Mrs. Banister leaned over on my bed and looked at Charles sleeping snuggly beside my legs.

  I really liked Mrs. Banister. She had one of those sweet, kind and tender personalities. She was always neatly dressed in a skirt suit and even wore stockings.