Make Something of It

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Make Something of It Page 2

by Stephanie Perry Moore


  “I can’t believe you’re letting your son talk to me like that. You better put that boy in check, or I will.”

  “Put me in check?” Spencer turned around and said. “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but you’re not talking to my mom that way.”

  Because his back was turned, he didn’t even see Mr. Brown handling his mom all crazy. Talking to her loud was only half the man’s problem. I was fuming more than a race car getting revved up.

  “Spencer, just calm down, Son,” his mom came over and said to him.

  Spencer uttered, “Nah, if he got something to say to me, just let him say it, and let me deal with this right now.”

  “You’ve been babying him for far too long. That’s why he’s always in trouble. You want him to come and live with us? Let me man him up,” Mr. Brown spat.

  I didn’t even know Spencer, but I wanted to tell him, “Sock your stepdad in the jaw.”

  Spencer seemed to sense something wasn’t right. “Let me talk to him, Mom. Back out of the way.”

  Mr. Brown pushed his wife out of the way and stepped closer to Spencer and said, “Yeah, move.”

  “Take your hands off my mom!” Spencer yelled.

  “Where have you been? He obviously does that all the time,” I blurted out.

  Spencer whirled back at me. “What do you mean he does that all the time?”

  Then I looked away, wishing I could take back the words, but really actually happy I said them. He needed to know, and it was the truth. I put my hands up in the air. I guess because we were getting louder in the hallway, people backstage started to crowd around.

  “Shh, shh, shh,” Mr. Brown started to say to his wife and stepson. “We can talk about this at home. Cameras are coming. Cut it out.”

  “Don’t tell me to cut it out.” Spencer looked at his mother. “Mom, has he been hitting you? Has he hurt you?”

  She couldn’t answer. She just looked away, but I glared at her arm. Hopefully, he was getting the hint. It was August, and she had on a long shirt. Spencer pushed up the fabric, and when he saw the deep bruise, he was livid. He quickly grabbed Mr. Brown’s collar and pushed him toward the stage.

  “I can’t believe what you started!” his mother looked at me and yelled.

  I would never disrespect an older woman. My mom taught me way better than that, but how dare she get mad at me because her son was defending her against a fool. So I just gave her a silly “I’m-sorry-that-you’re-mad” kind of look, but I truly hoped that her husband got his butt kicked.

  “You just want to embarrass my husband so he gets out of this election. This is all a ploy.”

  “You think this is about the election?” I finally spoke up and shouted. “I feel bad for you.”

  The tussling came back toward the greenroom. Mr. Brown passed his wife and yelled, “You need to get him off of me! He’s ruining everything.”

  His wife appeared frantic. Mr. Brown had no problem hitting her, but he was whining when a guy pinned him up. Spencer was getting some great blows in. Security ended up pulling them apart.

  “I can’t go out there looking like this,” Mr. Brown yelled. “Handle him.”

  Security reacted and got real rough with Spencer. I tried to step in, but my dad stepped right in the way.

  “Where do you think you’re going? The debate is canceled. They told everyone one of us got sick. We’re going home, and now that I see what’s the real deal, you’re not following some thug.”

  “But, Dad, you don’t understand. You don’t know what happened,” I said, needing to follow Spencer and the security.

  “Yeah. I don’t understand what happened either,” the independent candidate came over and said. “I was ready to take on you guys today.”

  “I don’t know if I could say I was ready,” my dad humbly replied back. “But I guess it’s going to have to hold off now. See you later, Mr. James.”

  Mr. James waved, shook his head at Spencer, and left with his entourage.

  “What were you doing over there with that young man?” my mom came up behind me and asked. “And now he’s fighting? That’s horrible.”

  “Mom, you don’t even know the whole story.”

  I tried walking away, but she snatched me back real quick.

  “You come back here. We’re going straight to the car now. There’re too many reporters around here, and we’re not trying to have any crazy incident like those guys just had.”

  “In a second I’ll go straight to the car, Mom. I’m not going to embarrass you, but you don’t know what’s going on.”

  I wanted to yell, “You got to let him go! You got to let him go!” When I got to the back door, I heard Mr. Brown say to his wife, “It’s him or me.” She just looked at her son like “What am I supposed to do?” As the security roughly carried Spencer away, all I could do was feel sorry for the stranger.

  CHAPTER TWO

  STORY

  “Shelby Grace, I said I’m not trying to hear it. Get in the limousine! You see all these reporters out there?” my dad said to me in the angriest voice I’d ever heard him use toward me.

  “Stanley, you need to calm down,” my mom leaned over and whispered to him. “There’s already been one candidate that couldn’t control himself tonight. Let’s not make it two.”

  My dad gave Mom a look as if she’d let him down.

  The driver held the limo door open, and I dared not to get in. I could tell my father wasn’t finished talking to me, so I let my sisters pass by. Yuri, Slade, and Sloan all looked at me as if I let them down too. I really had a tight bond with Ansli … maybe because we were in the same grade, but imagine your best friend actually being your sister and being able to come home with her each night. It was special because I didn’t have to hold things back from her. I could get her straight when she needed it, and she didn’t have a problem telling me what she felt either.

  Ansli pushed me into the limousine and said into my ear, “You sit far away from Mom and Dad. Don’t give him any ammunition to stay mad, and don’t try to tell him what happened while we are in the car. Wait until we get home.”

  “What happened, Dad? Why didn’t we have the debate?” inquisitive Sloan asked.

  Everybody eyed her down.

  “Oh, I’m not supposed to ask that?” Sloan annoyingly blurted out.

  “How many more of these things are we going to have to go to?” shy Yuri asked.

  “As many of them as your father needs,” my mom answered, even though the question wasn’t directed toward her. “Seriously, Stanley, you need to calm down,” she said, sensing my father was still upset because he wouldn’t even look at us. He loved looking at his girls, telling us how proud of us he is.

  Instead, he groaned, “You girls just whine all the time. It’s like you don’t appreciate anything. The reporters are asking tons of questions. I got a text from Lou. He’s going to meet us at the house.”

  My dad’s campaign manager was a pain in the butt. He kept pushing us to appear perfect. I knew they had a strategy and wanted to win, but we could only be who we were. My dad was disappointed in me. I could feel it.

  Finally, when the tension was so thick in the limo that you couldn’t even chop it with an ax, I said, “Dad, I’m sorry if I let you down. I was just trying to tell you …”

  He cut me off and said, “Didn’t I tell you, Shelby, that I didn’t want to know any particulars about that family? I’m running a clean race. You’re always trying to fix things. Why can’t you just stay in your lane and take care of Shelby?”

  “You don’t need to be so harsh with her?” My mom stepped up.

  “Whose side are you on?” Dad shot back.

  “Our family’s side.”

  “Well, you were just saying backstage how you were disappointed that she was inserting herself into someone else’s life,” my father reminded her.

  “Yes, but we can talk to her off-line about whatever any of our girls want to discuss. I don’t like the lo
ud tone you’re using,” my mother said.

  My dad looked up and saw ten eyes glaring back at him. “So you’re going to correct me in front of the girls? Just great.”

  “We can just agree to disagree,” my mother said as she sat back and motioned for us all to look away. We saw her grab his hand. “I still love ya though.”

  When she saw my dad pull his hand away, Slade, never wanting any conflict, uttered “Great, now you’ve got our parents mad at each other.”

  I didn’t want any conflict either. My mom’s body stiffened, and I could tell that she was not happy with him. My dad wasn’t happy with her either. He said so and kept staring out the window. But I did appreciate that, though they argued, as I’m sure all parents do at some point, there was no threat of blooming violence. My mother was safe to have her own opinion. While I hated that I was the cause of any kind of tension, I knew we’d be alright. I could only hope and pray things were better for Spencer.

  “I’m sorry, girls,” my dad said, finally giving in and making my mom beam with pride that he listened. “I am proud of you all. I know you know how to handle yourselves. I’m just getting more texts from Lou. He’s already at the house, and there’s a swarm of reporters waiting on us.”

  We lived in an upscale neighborhood with a guard gate. However, since some homeowners had not paid their fee, the gate was unattended because the complex couldn’t afford to pay an attendant. It’s been open for the last few months, and people were able to come and go as they pleased.

  “A bunch of reporters? Honey, I don’t want the girls photographed all over the place,” my mom said.

  “I hate that we aren’t in our car. We could’ve driven right into the garage and closed it,” my dad said, wanting to protect us. “Don’t feel like you have to answer any questions.”

  When the driver came around and opened the door for us, pandemonium erupted. Lights flashed, cameras were snapped, and mics were in our faces. With the way the media was treating us, you would have thought my dad was actually president of the United States.

  A fat, sweaty reporter stepped too close and blabbed, “Girls, I heard you were going to public school this year. That’s going to be a big switch from private school.”

  Though we’ve been told not to respond, I think all of us said, “No, we’re not.”

  My mother quickly escorted us inside. All of us were pacing back and forth. We needed to talk to my dad. We needed answers. No way in the world were we planning to go to public school. What in the world was that announcement all about? And as soon as he came in the door, we started drilling him.

  “Okay, girls. Just settle down. I’m just saying public school helped me start from the bottom and get here,” he started trying to talk all young, hip, and cool to us. “I didn’t grow up privileged. I built my law practice from the ground up. I got to the NFL because I worked hard and went for what I wanted at a young age. You girls have had a silver spoon in your mouth all your life, and it’s time you start learning you can’t just hold your hand out and want us to give you things. You’ve got to start making your own way.”

  “But why do we have to go to public school to learn that lesson?” I said.

  Sloan asked, “Yeah, Dad, is this for you or for us?”

  He looked appalled. Sloan stepped back, realizing she’d said too much. Lots of thoughts were wrestling around in my head about why for us going to public school is a bad idea, but none of it mattered. My dad had made up his mind, my mom supported his decision, and that was the end of the story. We were going to take it, deal with it, and make it work. It just seemed so unfair and it seemed like such a political move, but that didn’t matter.

  “Shelby! Get up!” my sister Sloan jabbed me in the ribs and said. “We’re not sleeping in today. We’re getting up and fixing Mom and Dad breakfast. We are not going to public school.”

  I pulled the covers over my head. I wasn’t even thinking about my younger sisters. Yuri was shy, so she wasn’t saying anything. Slade wanted to be famous so she wasn’t trying to upset Dad because anywhere where the cameras were, that’s where she wanted to be. If she thought cameras were going to be in public school, she was down with that plan. However, Sloan was very outspoken, the community activist of our family, and because she thought our rights were being violated and we weren’t going to have the best education that our parents could afford for us, she felt that they needed to change their minds.

  “Come on, Shelby! Seriously!” Sloan said as she snatched the covers off my face.

  “Seriously, you need to leave me alone,” I said in a tough voice. I knew she loved having her way, but when I put my foot down, she didn’t try me. I wanted to go back to sleep, so I turned over.

  I could hear Sloan mumbling to Slade and Yuri. Then Yuri coughed and said, “Fixing breakfast for them would be nice, Shelby. We just need your help. You’re the one who cooks the best.”

  I rolled back over and eyed her. “Yuri, are you serious? You’re the best cook in the house.”

  “Yeah, you are, Yuri,” Slade agreed, wondering why Yuri would make such a dumb comment to convince me.

  “That’s just because I spend a lot of time with the cooks Mom and Dad hired, but you make the best homemade pancakes because you got the recipe from Grandma,” Yuri said, making a great point.

  “Just please get up. We’re going to be going to school soon. We need to spend time together,” Slade said. “Plus, you heard Dad’s campaign manager. We’ve got to be more of a tight unit.”

  I stood up. “What do you want us all to do? Dress alike and follow in line behind each other?”

  “Whatever it’s going to take to help Dad win, we should be down for it.”

  “No, speak for yourself,” Slade said, and then the two of them started going at it.

  “Where’s Ansli?” I asked.

  Sloan said, “We came and got you first. We know you can get Ansli up.”

  “Alright. I’ll meet y’all in the kitchen.”

  I knew there was more to Ansli not being as social than they understood. She was a morning person. She’d always been the one coming into my room, jumping on me, and trying to get me up and stuff. She actually hated that we didn’t share a room anymore. Though we were best buddies and loved each other as sisters, I did want my space, but it was killing her. Most of the nights, she’d end up in my room anyway. So for her not to bother me meant something was up.

  Then it dawned on me. It’s August. The anniversary of her parents’ death. While the details were vague to us because our parents wanted to shield us all from the tragedy, every year around this time, she retreated. I needed to pull her out of her gloom. The good thing about it was she and I shared a bathroom between our rooms. She loved locking out our younger sisters by her bedroom door, but she never locked me out, and the bathroom door was never shut either. This time it was.

  “Ansli, you in there?” I said, not wanting to just bulldoze my way in.

  “I’m not feeling that good, Shelby. We can talk later, alright? I heard they want y’all to make them breakfast. Go do that. Go make your parents something to eat.”

  Okay, see now I was mad. I knew what she was going through, so I couldn’t let her know I was mad, but these weren’t just my parents. My parents adopted her, and she had our last name. Why was she trippin’? I couldn’t even imagine what she was going through. Not only did she and Yuri not look like my parents, but just knowing that she’d never see her biological folks again had to hurt bad. However, my folks had given her all they had, and she had a lot of life to live. Someway, somehow, she was going to have to embrace her pain and become stronger from it. As her sister and her friend, it was my job to make sure that happened. So I just opened the door and jumped into her bed like she usually jumped into mine.

  “Okay, what’s this?”

  “Well, you can’t kick me out because you do this to me all the time.”

  “I know, but I’m tired, and when you tell me you’re tired, I leave you
alone, right?”

  “No, so don’t even try it! What’s wrong?” I said, as I stroked her beautiful, naturally curly hair. Being mixed did have its privileges. Not only did she have a gorgeous, golden skin tone, but her hair was prettier than Indian hair.

  “I know you miss your parents. I’m sorry.”

  “You can’t begin to know how this feels.”

  “And I’m not trying to. I guess I’m just saying my folks, our folks, love you too. So let’s cook them breakfast. You don’t want to go to public school any more than I do. So we got to talk them out of this craziness. Right? Let’s join as sisters and make sure we’re straight. Come on! Come on!” I said, tickling her and knowing that that always worked.

  Sure enough, she started smiling. I knew it wasn’t a real smile. I knew deep down she was still hurting. When she got up, I said, “We’re older now. Me and you can talk to Mom and try to get more details about your parents if that’s what you want.”

  “You’d want to know?”

  “Yeah, if you want to know, I want to know.”

  “And you think she’d tell me?” Ansli asked.

  “I do. I think she’ll tell you. I think she’d tell you anything you want to know.”

  “Thank you, Shelby.” She hugged me.

  About an hour later, we were waking our parents up. I couldn’t believe it was just six thirty in the morning, but we were trying to show them that we needed them to hear us out.

  “Okay, so what do you guys want? I know it’s something,” my dad said. “We’re not getting all this love, breakfast, and attention just because you guys want to be sweet daughters.”

  Nobody said anything, and this was Sloan’s idea, but she looked at me.

  So I uttered, “Dad, we’re just not trying to do the whole public …”

  “Don’t even go there, Shelby. You guys are going to public school.”

 

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