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In My Shoes

Page 22

by Brenda Hampton


  When I arrived home, Charlene and Dedra met me at the door and followed me into my apartment. The message light was blinking, displaying that I’d had twelve messages. Then, the phone rang and it was Mama.

  “Well done, Brenda, your Mama is so proud of you.” Tears quickly filled my eyes. I rightfully felt that Mama had not been able to tell me that up until now. It was a good feeling. Her baby girl had finally made her proud. And even though I wanted to hear her say it years ago, I really hadn’t given her a reason to until now. I asked her to rate me on a scale from one to ten, and she blurted out, “Twenty.” I guessed that was just a mother’s perspective on things. We laughed and I told her I would call her back, once I got settled.

  Most of my messages were from my friends and family, congratulating me on a job well done. But one of the messages was from Dwayne. He spoke in a nasty tone, telling me to gather his belongings and bring them to him—soon! I deleted his message and went back to entertaining my company.

  At one o’clock in the morning, Jesse stopped by after work. She worked late nights at the post office, but she didn’t want to go the day without personally congratulating me. A card was in one hand, and a bottle of expensive champagne was in the other. I laughed and invited her in.

  “Whatever happened to my bottles of Colt 45?” I asked Jesse. “You done stepped it up to champagne now and have forgotten about our Colt 45 days, haven’t you?”

  “I haven’t forgotten. As a matter of fact, I’ll never forget. We’re just moving on up and I have this feeling that there won’t be no stopping us now!”

  I couldn’t agree with Jesse more. We conversed about my future plans that I was really getting hyped about. Like always, we made arrangements to get together for the weekend and celebrate.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  There was a hard knock on my door, waking me from my sleep. When I opened it, it was the sheriff handing me a letter. It was an eviction notice. I had to clear the premises within thirty days or they would get a court order to kick me out. The reason for the eviction: too many disturbance calls reported at my address. According to the letter, the police had been called to my residence a total of nineteen times within a one-year period. The management office stated this was unacceptable. Damn, damn, damn, I thought. What in the hell was I going to do now? At the time, I didn’t realize how much of a blessing this news was.

  I called the management office to speak with Katy. I wanted to know if there was anything I could do to keep my apartment.

  “The situation is out of my control,” Katy said. “The inspectors were in your apartment and noticed holes in the walls, the bedroom door off the hinges, several of the windows cracked, and your front door is unable to lock. Not to mention the numerous calls to the police and you also have a serious roach problem.”

  I tried to defend what the inspectors had witnessed, as best as I could. “I…I called for the exterminators, but they never showed up. I can also get some new locks for the door and my ex-boyfriend is not allowed to come here anymore, so the police won’t be called to come back again. I have nowhere else to go with my children and all I’m asking for is another chance.”

  “Sorry, Brenda. Within thirty days, you must be out. Good luck.”

  Katy hung up, but before I could even think about what I needed to do, the phone rang. It was Jeanette. “Brenda, I have good news for you. Our phones have been ringing off the hook since your interview on TV. There have been all kinds of companies calling here asking for you to come in for an interview. And not only that, we’re getting so many calls from people who want to sign up for the program just because of you. Thank you so much!” she shouted. “Now, when are you going to come in and call some of these people back for an interview?”

  “How about now? I can be there within the hour.” I hung up the phone and tore up the eviction letter. They didn’t have to give me thirty days. All I needed was a couple of weeks and I was out!

  The first place I called wanted to interview me that day, and the other three sounded interesting, so I set up interviews with them later in the week. My self-esteem was working its way back up. I was amazed about being given so many different opportunities at once. Less than a year ago, I had nothing; and now, all kinds of doors were opening for me.

  Before I’d left home, I called Jesse to break the news to her about being evicted and asked if she would co-sign for an apartment for me. Since I was going to be working now, there was no reason I couldn’t afford to pay regular rent. Jesse agreed to co-sign for me, and said we would spend the weekend in search for an apartment. I thanked her and left to go on my interview.

  During my interview for Physician’s Health Plan, I wasn’t nervous at all. Two White women asked the questions and a Black woman took notes. They laughed and joked with me about how crazy the health insurance industry could be, and said it definitely had its ups and downs. According to them, they were looking for an experienced, friendly person to run the front desk where visitors and some of their most important clients came. They took me to the place where I could possibly work, and needless to say, it was the perfect environment. The floors were hunter-green swirling marble and a mahogany desk sat in the middle of the floor. Old-fashioned cushioned chairs surrounded the room and a matching sofa set sat near the entrance. You had to have a swipe-card or enter a pin number to enter, and when you did, the tall tinted glass doors opened to the receptionist area.

  “So, Ms. Hampton. Do you think you can do this?” One of the ladies asked.

  I was still mesmerized, looking around. “Absolutely. I would love to work here.”

  “Let’s finish taking the tour, and then we’ll go back to my office to talk about a start date and salary.” I was all smiles. I couldn’t believe I was about to work for one of the largest healthcare companies in the country.

  When we got back to the interviewee’s office, everyone shook my hand and congratulated me on my new position. They turned me over to the Black lady, who was the Assistant Director of Human Resources.

  “Girl, you did a great job,” she said with her legs crossed. “It’s good to see a sista coming up in here ready to handle her business.”

  I laughed. “Actually, it’s good to see a sista with a position like yours.”

  “Yes, but I had to work hard for it. It didn’t come easy. After being with this company for six years, they had to do something for me.”

  “I hope to have the same success with this company. It seems like a wonderful place to work.”

  “Oh, you will. I can tell by your personality and attitude, you’ll do just fine. You’re exactly what we need out there at that front desk. It won’t be easy—we get an enormous amount of phone calls and visitors, so be prepared to stay busy.”

  “That’s fine with me.”

  The HR Director turned to her computer, and after checking her schedule, she turned to me.

  “Okay, Brenda, so when can you start? We want you to train for two weeks, and after that, you’ll be on your own.”

  “Can I start Monday?”

  “Sure, Monday sounds fine. That way you can start when the new pay period begins. As for your salary, the position starts out at $28,000 a year. You get a small raise after six months, and then you’re evaluated once a year.”

  My eyes widened and mouth hung open. “How much did you say?”

  “Yes, sweetie, I said $28,000 a year. But remember, there’s a lot of work involved.”

  “I know, but that seems like a lot of money for a receptionist, doesn’t it?”

  “I can always offer you less if you want me to,” she said, smiling.

  “No, that’s okay. I’ll take the twenty-eight instead.”

  We both laughed.

  “I’ll see you at eight o’clock Monday morning and don’t be late. Meet me in the lobby.”

  “Thanks, Ms. Watson. Thanks for all your help.”

  “Don’t call me Ms. Watson, call me Ruth.”

  “Okay, Ruth, I’ll see you Mon
day.”

  I hurried home to make my phone calls. Twenty-eight thousand was a dream come true for a sista on welfare getting $292/month from the government. Not in a million years did I think I would see that kind of money. Why or how something this good happened to me, I didn’t understand. I could find the twins and me a nice place, buy a new car, and start saving for the future. Most of all, this kind of money would keep me out the stores. I’d been backsliding a lot when it came to that, but now, I could pay for what I wanted.

  Jesse, Dedra, Charlene, and I drove around on the weekend looking for me an apartment. Shantell and I had made up, as we often did. But when I asked if she wanted to go with us, she turned me down. Her boyfriend, James, had her so wrapped around his finger, she couldn’t do anything. The last time I’d seen her, he’d blackened her eye. Looking at her situation was a mirror reflection of mine, and as we spoke often on the phone, she cried about getting out of her relationship too. I didn’t judge, and I knew, more than anyone, how difficult it was to break that grip. I would judge no woman in her situation and I looked at it as God strengthening a person and preparing them for something better to come. Whatever that would be, He’d be the one to decide, not me.

  Jesse had driven to about ten different apartment buildings listed in an apartment guide she picked up for me at the grocery store. Not one appealed to me. They were over-priced and the bedrooms were like matchboxes. Dedra and Charlene complained about me being too picky.

  “Any place beats where we live at right now. I don’t know why you’re being so picky and I liked the last place we were at,” Charlene said.

  “Well, I didn’t. And since I’m going to be paying my hard earned money, the place I move into has to be right.”

  Jesse agreed, but by day’s end, we had almost given up. We sat at QuikTrip on West Florissant Ave., drinking sodas and sharing chips. There was a sign on the corner pointing to some townhouses down the street, so Jesse drove to the rental office. The manager gave us a key to look at the display unit. The outside wasn’t bad at all and the premises were well manicured. When we stepped into the townhouse, I immediately knew this place was for me. It had two large bedrooms with walk-in closets that connected to bathrooms. The kitchen had white appliances and a small island sat in the middle of the floor. The living room was bigger than my whole apartment and had built-in bookshelves on one side of the wall. The entire place, except for the kitchen, was covered with shiny hardwood floors. We opened the door to the lower level, and were completely sold. It had a laundry room, another half bathroom and the rest was an open carpeted space.

  I rushed Jesse over to the rental office to complete the application. The manager said rent was seven hundred and fifty dollars a month. Even though it was more than I anticipated, the luxury was well worth it. The manager shook our hands and said she would call Jesse on Monday to let her know if her application had been approved.

  The twins and I spent the rest of the day cleaning out our apartment. We had accumulated so much over the years, it was ridiculous. I came across the full box of spiral notebooks that I’d been writing in for years. While flipping through the pages, I began to read many of my entries. The bad times I’d written about, outweighed the good. Many of the pages still had dried-up tears on them. Some pages were curled and had me thinking about the past. Other pages had stories where I’d used my imagination to create them. Some were interesting, many not. My fairytale stories where life was good made me smile, and I remembered it as being one of the ongoing stories that I used to read to Jesse. But most of the contents were about a past that I wanted to put behind me. It was time to let go, so I carried the cardboard heavy box out to the dumpster and dumped all of my spiral notebooks inside. Right away, I felt something awkward inside, because I knew I was giving up on something that was close to my heart and often gave me peace—writing.

  Since Dwayne had been calling and bugging me about bringing the rest of his things to him, I put all of his belongings in a box to take to him later. I knew packing was a bit premature but my destiny was already confirmed. I was so ready to leave my apartment, and if I could have moved out that day, I would have.

  Later that evening, I called Dwayne’s parents’ house to see if he was home so I could take him his things. Myron answered and asked me to call back because he was on the phone. I told him to relay a message to Dwayne that I was on my way with his things.

  Before going to his place, I stopped at a pawnshop, removing the four diamond rings from my fingers. I laid them on the counter and the man behind the counter asked how much I wanted for them.

  “Fifty dollars,” I said.

  He scratched his head. “Fifty dollars? Are you pawning them or do you want cash for them? If you want cash, I can give you a little more than fifty dollars.”

  “I know how much the rings are worth. All I need is fifty dollars to pay my gas bill. You can sell them for whatever you want to.”

  The man rushed to give me fifty dollars and he made me sign an agreement that confirmed I didn’t want the rings back. Without any delay, I did so.

  Dwayne stood on the porch, watching as I pulled up and got out of my car. I grabbed one of the boxes from the back seat and walked up the steps to give it to him. The box was pretty darn heavy and he just stood there with his hands in his pockets. I dropped the box on the porch, turning to go get another one.

  “Brenda, don’t come down here trippin’,” he said in a whisper.

  I quickly turned with confusion on my face. “What are you talking about? Trip for what? All I came here to do was bring you the stuff you’ve been bugging me about.”

  “Aw. Myron said you had an attitude when you called because he told you I had company.”

  “Well, Myron was incorrect. He didn’t tell me you had company. I told him to tell you I was on my way and he said that he would. If I’d known you had company, I would have waited.” Just then, his front door opened. The White young woman stared at me, and I looked at her.

  “Dwayne, who is this?” she asked. I made my way to the porch, extending my hand to hers.

  “Hi,” I said with a huge smile planted on my face. “My name is Brenda. I’m Dwayne’s ex-girlfriend and I just wanted to bring him his belongings that were left at my place when he moved out. I’m moving and I didn’t want any of his things getting left behind.”

  “I appreciate you bringing his things to him. He’s probably going to need them when we get our place. We’ve been looking for months and we’re so anxious to find one.”

  I nodded. “What did you say your name was?”

  “Stephanie, my name is Stephanie.”

  “Stephanie, it’s been a pleasure meeting you. Take care and good luck to you and Dwayne.”

  “Thanks, Brenda, it’s also been a pleasure finally meeting you. I’ve heard so much about you and it’s good to be able to put a face with the image.” Lord only knows what Dwayne told her about me, I thought. It didn’t really matter, because at that moment, I knew my seven-year relationship with Dwayne was over! I had not one jealous bone in my body; I actually felt sorry for the chick that seemed like a nice person. I almost cracked up at the shocked look covering Dwayne’s face when I talked to her. He seriously thought I was going to act a fool over him again, but little did he know, those days had long passed.

  I smiled as I pulled the last box out of the trunk and set it on the ground. Dwayne jogged down the steps, and put the box on the trunk of my car.

  “So, where you movin’ to?” he asked.

  “I found a townhouse in North County. I’m moving in a couple of weeks.” I didn’t even know if it was a done deal or not, but I was claiming it.

  “If I can help, let me know.”

  “No, that’s okay. I already got that part taken care of.” I moved around him to get into my car.

  “Brenda, hold up. What’s the rush? I…I miss you. Why don’t you call me so we can holla about some things? If you want me to, I’ll make her go home and we can talk now.


  “That won’t be necessary. I don’t want to be with anyone right now. I need time to myself. Time to focus on just my kids and me. So, you go ahead and do you. I wish you well, Dwayne, truly, I do. And whether you realize it or not, if she’s who you want, I’m happy for you.”

  Dwayne’s girlfriend got agitated on the porch waiting for him. She called his name three times, but he ignored her. She started down the steps.

  “I’m getting ready to go,” I said, rushing. “I don’t want to disrespect her in any way.”

  “Alright, Brenda,” he said, holding the car door open so I wouldn’t shut it. “Give me a kiss. Can I have just one last kiss?” I cut my eyes at him and sighed from frustration. Stephanie walked up from behind him.

  “Did you just ask her for a kiss?” she snapped, raising her voice.

  “Back up! Take yo ass back on the porch until I get finished talkin’! Don’t be out here confrontin’ me over no bullshit,” he yelled.

  “What the fuck is your problem?” She blinked the tears from her round blue eyes, and while they stood arguing, I shut the door and drove off. I could hear Dwayne yelling for me to wait, but there was no turning back.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Work was exciting but hectic. Everything was a rush-rush situation. The phones rang off the hook and visitors came in from left to right. The temp who was training me was an older White woman who didn’t seem to have it together. Ruth came out a few times to check on me. She pulled me aside and asked me to be patient, because after two weeks with the trainee, I would be on my own.

  That day, Ruth invited me to lunch with her. I hadn’t eaten anything so lunch sounded good. She took me to a restaurant in Westport Plaza that was owned by baseball legend, Ozzie Smith. Ruth talked about her job and the things she had to do to get where she was.

  “If you work hard, you can get here too. PHP is known for giving promotions to those who perform well and African Americans are given a fair chance. The company also pays for schooling, so if you want to go back to further your education, come see me.”

 

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